Jacob Frye freed London (and Evie helped) (haltthemachines) wrote in angellogs, @ 2017-02-17 05:42:00 |
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Entry tags: | !dreamland plot, !trigger warning, aedan vael, jacob frye |
Who: Jacob Frye, Dream! Maxwell Roth, OPEN to anyone who wants to interact with his messed up dream (Aedan Vael in passing, He's snuck out to fight club alone at night cause screw being grounded and screw his night security)
When: Friday (During Dream Plot)
Where: Outside Fight Club at the Pub
What: a blast from Jacob's past brings up some problems
Warnings/Notes: Maxwell Roth's got a interest in Jacob that borders on creepily obsessed. Warning for that. Possible TRIGGERS for vague references to Roth's 'claiming' Jacob in ways that border on consent issues. Sexual Innuendos.
"Right. Two seconds between rounds for me, and no, Aed, you're not fighting. You're not meant to be out of your HOUSE right now. I'm not in the business of tattling, but I'm not putting you in my ring either." Jacob wiped his sweaty forward with a flourish, tossed his handkerchief into an adoring crowd, and turned to head through the lot to the pub proper, when he felt a tap on his shoulder, and whirled quickly, near dropping the hat he'd pulled out from his pocket when he got a look at just WHO stood before him.
"Jacob, My dear! How good to see you, darling boy! So THIS is where you've kept yourself!" Maxwell Roth's voice was as familiar as it'd been in life, low pitched, and full of gravel, his clothing as impecable as it had been in life, no hint of the blood stains from his throat that Jacob had placed there during their final meeting, when Roth had given him that kiss that started up so much for him, and the man's theatrical flourish and triumphant grin, on seeing him, made Jacob's own blood near run cold.
"Hard to imagine you in a place like this, dear Jacob," Roth pressed on, casting a quick bow in his direction. "Someone with your...qualities." He practically purred the words, making Jacob feel uncertain in what he was meant to do here, besides start screaming or looking for Evie. Neither one seemed right just now. He'd killed this man for what he'd done in London, for the innocents he'd hurt, the children he had killed, the people who had been lured to his shows and injured in Jacob's own name. Just looking at him, remembering that kiss, the way that Roth had CLAIMED him, made Jacob feel dirty to consider it now.
"Roth..." he finally settled on, choking back the horror that he had woken here, and pasted a broad smile on his face. "Good to see you here." It really, really wasn't, and he had the feeling they both knew it.
"Come now, Darling." Roth's arm snaked out around Jacob's shoulders, tugging him in close, and the smile he gave Jacob made it quite hard to resist. "We both know you didn't mean it, in the end. You were confused." The older man continued, shaking his head a little. "By your assassins and that sister of yours...I think you've been a bit of a naughty boy." He purred those last words in Jacob's ear, a promise practically intent in them, "But I can think of ways for you to learn your lesson that don't really mean goodbye. Although for now." He beamed, waving at a few people who passed by. "Why don't you show me around a bit. Looks like you've done a great job with the place. Buy me a drink, at least?" he asked, sliding a hand down from Jacob's shoulder to around his waist as more people passed by.
"Why, good evening!" Roth called out to those who headed by, "I'm a very special friend of Jacob here. It's been some time since I've properly seen my boy! Come now, darling, introduce me to your special friends."
There wasn't much way out of this given the grip Roth had and the seemingly protective, actually possessive hold on him that Jacob could not break no matter how he tried.
Help?