After being informed by my faithful butler Raymond that my ultimate goal (which is to sleep with every single person in whatever the hell the country I live in is), quite a difficult feat, would be made easier if I were to meet people over the internet so I can hack into their personal information and find out where they live I agreed with his theory and here I am now.
la introduction.
I am Jean Descole an artistic man of science(IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!) I am a very experienced whore archeologist and inventor and a french gentleman. And when I say gentleman I do not mean the mockery (that I shat my pants! :D) that batard Layton put on the word, I am a real gentleman.
I would write more but I am currently rather...indisposed.
I look forward tovous vissage becoming acquainted ~♥
la introduction.
I am Jean Descole an artistic man of science
I would write more but I am currently rather...indisposed.
I look forward to
- Current Location:your pants
- Current Mood:
horny - Current Music:plug in your USB and you can do me
Comments
Descole has lost it completely. After punching the wall, he makes a pained noise, but the injury to his hand does not deter him, if anything it enrages him further. Grabbing Layton by the shirt, he pulls him forward before aggressively throwing him back against the wall.
He lifts his hand to strike him- but this is Descole, he can't keep one emotion for long. The reality of what he's doing hits him, and he's distressed once more.
He wills himself to strike, but can't bring himself to hit Fessah. Angry at himself, he stalks abruptly away, his movements jerky with anxiety.
With a defeated sigh, he sits dejectedly (for Descole, he still manages to look fabulous and up himself) on Layton's desk, facing the window. He ignores Layton, momentarily lost in his own little world.
Layton is forced backward, no match for sheer rage, and - still somewhat stunned by the entire situation - he slides abruptly to sit on the ground, quickly shielding himself from Descole's supposed blow with his hands and looking back up in momentary confusion when the strike never comes.
He watches Descole's shift in mood and actions critically, as if he partially already expected this outcome. Instead he lets out a soft, exasperated sigh and (drawing his knees up to his chest) leans back against the well, perfectly content to let erratic, strange little Descole sit on his desk for the time being (even though Descole even being there is messing everything up)
For some time Descole fights an internal battle, I imagine he'd almost have split personalities, he's so changeable, it would be like Luke and Descole arguing.
But Descole characteristically has to be in control of the situation, so seeing Layton so comfortable with what's happening irritates him into action.
"Well then" He snaps, scowling at Layton. "Lets just get this over with."
"I'll make my demands, and then you will never have to worry about your little secret becoming known, again."
"Well decided, Descole," he remarks, folding his arms and considering Descole with impassive concern. "Very well then," He momentarily casts his gaze to the floor in a flicker of discomforting embarrassment, before meeting where he presumes Descole's gaze is.
"State your demands, and they shall be met."
He turns a death glare on Layton, which is largely hidden by his mask. "Very well" He snarls.
But as an idea forms in his mind, his expression slowly changes. He smirks coldly, and proclaims.
"My demand is......you."
His smirk widens, feeling the amusement and vindictive pleasure that comes at dropping a bombshell that will (hopefully) cause rather an impact on the victim.
"I have decided...why relinquish my power over you? I can think of nothing I could want more."
The next demand is, however. Not being very mature emotionally in this regard, he has not anticipated this development at all, and it fills him with intense unease, disappointed frustration mingling with the smallest dash of fear. Outwardly, his expression doesn't change much, but there is a definate change to his posture and demeanour, and there is a soft, sharp intake of breath.
"You- cannot mean..." Layton pushes aside his concern at the creepyness of that request to worry more about the pain of not resolving the Luke issue. "You cannot- you were to- finish this madness, not- I can't have anyone... find out..." He takes a step backward to consider Descole with disbelieving, rising alarm (although for Layton this isn't very obvious).
"Exactly. You can't have anyone find out, so you will have to do everything I say. Do you agree Professor?"
*Layton does whatever*
"Why are you upset Professor? You shouldn't be, I wouldn't do anything to hurt you, not if you do as I say."
((hmm, sorry about this, but I'll need Layton's reply! Sorry about the shitty comment! >_< ))
Descole gloats at him and Layton looks away, for once at a loss of what to do, his brilliant puzzling mind falling short of this unprecedented, uncomfortable situation. "I-" Once more Layton is reminded of the myriad of things that are entirely wrong with his relationship with his apprentice, least of all the legal impact upon a relationship between a 40-year-old and a 14-year-old boy who was also under his care for quite some time, and the end that would await not only himself, but the impact it would have on Luke. He barely hears Descole's querying under his concerned musings, merely frowns and looks back up at him once Descole is finished.
"Well, you give me no other choice," Layton looks away again, and replies with barely a murmur: "Very well then. What do you... intend to ask for?"
He pauses, before remarking "Well I hardly have to ask for one single thing, I rather like the idea of you being my slave." He stalks slowly around Layton, like an animal sizing him up for the kill "Yes, I rather like the idea of you in a collar and chains."
He once more moves closer to Layton, but with a different intent to before. Dare I say, "seductively"? ;)
His breath quickens imperceptibly as Descole closes in on him, now visibly uncomfortable (skin-crawlingly so) and disgusted by Descole's mere implication, and perhaps even very, very dully interested, although he would barely even acknowledge why. He'll back away as much as he can, reluctant to escape the situation entirely because he knows he has to give whatever Descole requests unless he wants further fuss.
Layton is also incredibly uncomfortable about Descole's change in intent. Normally he's arguably a few shades of Asexual; he tends to focus more on the individual attraction rather than a general one, and he's too emotionally immature and shy to consider anything else, particularly as he is so uncomfortable with his own feelings and emotions anyway - so anything of this nature would scare him somewhat.
"You hardly have a choice."
Back when he was in school, parents constantly moving everywhere until they finally settled in Steviano/Stanbury and Layton constantly being the new, awkward, quiet kid with no motivation to do anything at all, he was pushed around and made to feel uncomfortable quite often, not least with Lando - although he was happy to be bossed around and forced to play along for him, appreciative for the attention of someone far more outgoing than himself. Even nowadays he is used to deferring to those that demand power, although his sense of justice has saved him from ever being a complete pushover to the point of regret (well, except maybe with Luke, although that's hardly Luke's fault).
But now
Well, this is something else entirely...
Layton doesn't even acknowledge Descole's first request, blithely stunned as he attempts to piece together what Descole has requested, something so abhorrent, lewd - he stares back at Descole in confused discomfort - perhaps he imagined it-
but no, Descole is menacing, insistent. He shrinks backward.
"You-" He takes in a sharp breath, willing himself to calm. "You can't honestly-"
But Descole cuts him off, reminding him cuttingly of the commitment he has made, the commitment he has had to make because of Layton's own wretched immorality.
Layton falters, willing himself to take action, just be brave and do it. Descole's masked intense gaze just makes him even more uncomfortable, and he blushes unhappily as he slowly, awkwardly and stiffly reaches to comply with Descole's mirthful request. He closes his eyes, grimacing, as he sheds his jacket and shirt, cagey and embarrassed. They fall to the floor with a nervous shudder.
When he has finished he stands there awkwardly, fingers knotting the shirt he holds close to himself in discomfort, looking down at the ground in nigh-crippling shame, and says nothing at all.
"Oh my." He laughs. "I really can make you do anything." He seems to only have just realized the potentials behind this.
He inspects Layton hungrily, before placing his hand on Layton's chest. "Very nice." He says almost wistfully.
He slinks closer to Layton, leaning forward so his head is almost against Layton's cheek.
I assume Layton tries to dodge this, whether a slight automatic reaction, or trying to step out of his way.
Momentarily Descole draws back to give him a death glare because of this, before getting even closer to Layton, trailing his fingers down his chest and generally not being able to keep his hands off him.
"Don't move" he says flatly. "I need to teach you to obey me, to make sure you're completely aware of exactly what choices you have. Do you think you can do that?"
Layton shudders as Descole touches him, looking back up at him with distinct unease, rigid and unhappy, blushing with embarassed unhappiness. He's not used to such lewd behaviour, Descole's predatory stare promising far more uncomfortable things - well, in any case, he feels he isn't. What he got up to with Claire, and especially with Luke - is far different to him than how he feels about this situation. He shrinks back when Descole moves forward to press against him - it is almost a subconscious reaction, revolted, afraid and humiliated.
This increases as Descole glares threateningly at him, before setting about making him even more uncomfortable. Layton shivers and his breath quickens slightly as he presses himself as far back against the wall as he can, faint blush spreading across his face as Descole's incessant touching begins to stir a further discomfort in his treacherous body. His voice is thick with shame as he protests: "Descole, Please do-"
But Descole cuts him off with a further threat, dominant and overwhelming. Layton stares back at the cold, impassive mask, brow furrowing in pained concern, but says nothing. He turns his gaze back down to the floor, frowning, before dipping his head into a nod of affirmation.
"Sorry? What was that? I didn't quite catch it." He sticks his face right into Laytons (like Lando)
"Say it, you're mine."
*I'm guessing layton does. I'm psychic haha!*
"Good." He purrs into his ear. " You're learning."
Then there's a change in him, his expression (from what you can tell) changes, he zones out.
"God I've missed you..." He murmurs.
He draws back, confused with himself, before scowling, and returning his administrations to Layton.
He licks Laytons neck ((Haha! Said I'd put it in ;))
And sticks his hand down his pants.
PROBLEM LAYTON