It was certainly an odd tableau. One that would certainly look beyond depraved to any passersby. Some wry, backstage part of him couldn't help being amused at the idea.
"I don't think I have that many bones," he said, at last.
Dmitry had been happily ensconced in the Zone for longer than 206 days, after all. Although he had heard of cases where some individual's skeletons had slightly more or less. It still wouldn't be enough.
"You'd have to break some of them twice."
It seemed wrong, that the sensation of a sociopath touching one's hair felt no different than a mother's or a lover's.
That should be fixed, thought Nika, vaguely.
He'd just have a word with the godless sky. Sometime after all his paperwork was done.
The man's nails bit bluntly into his wrist, but he kept his eyes inexorably locked.
"I didn't put you in Magadan, Dima. You put yourself there."
Liadov rose slowly to his full height, like a dance partner at the end of a dramatic denouement. The man's hand slipped from his head like water, but the one on his wrist remained.
"You created your own Zone, your own Siberia, wire by wire, when you chose to be a butcher, and you pushed humanity away. Did you never realize, Dima, that when you killed those girls, you were killing yourself?"
He shook his head.
It didn't matter.
Nika leveled his gaze.
"You deserved to be in Magadan. You don't deserve a second chance. But you've been given one, through circumstances beyond my influence. Much as it displeases me, I have no recourse."
He was aware of Polya somewhere behind him, that he'd made a small noise of dismay some time ago, probably wanting to clarify exactly how many bones were in the human body, and that babies were born with around three hundred, but then some of them fuse, and it varies from person to person...
"...you could go on to live a full and pleasant life in spite of your crimes. But you must let go of the idea that anyone but Dmitry is responsible for his own fate and self-loathing."
Obliquely, Nika wondered if he was ever going to get laid again after such a weird display.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2007-10-10 07:57 pm (UTC)It was certainly an odd tableau. One that would certainly look beyond depraved to any passersby. Some wry, backstage part of him couldn't help being amused at the idea.
"I don't think I have that many bones," he said, at last.
Dmitry had been happily ensconced in the Zone for longer than 206 days, after all. Although he had heard of cases where some individual's skeletons had slightly more or less. It still wouldn't be enough.
"You'd have to break some of them twice."
It seemed wrong, that the sensation of a sociopath touching one's hair felt no different than a mother's or a lover's.
That should be fixed, thought Nika, vaguely.
He'd just have a word with the godless sky. Sometime after
all his paperwork was done.
The man's nails bit bluntly into his wrist, but he kept his eyes inexorably locked.
"I didn't put you in Magadan, Dima. You put yourself there."
Liadov rose slowly to his full height, like a dance partner at the end of a dramatic denouement. The man's hand slipped from his head like water, but the one on his wrist remained.
"You created your own Zone, your own Siberia, wire by wire, when you chose to be a butcher, and you pushed humanity away. Did you never realize, Dima, that when you killed those girls, you were killing yourself?"
He shook his head.
It didn't matter.
Nika leveled his gaze.
"You deserved to be in Magadan. You don't deserve a second chance. But you've been given one, through circumstances beyond my influence. Much as it displeases me, I have no recourse."
He was aware of Polya somewhere behind him, that he'd made a small noise of dismay some time ago, probably wanting to clarify exactly how many bones were in the human body, and that babies were born with around three hundred, but then some of them fuse, and it varies from person to person...
"...you could go on to live a full and pleasant life in spite of your crimes. But you must let go of the idea that anyone but Dmitry is responsible for his own fate and self-loathing."
Obliquely, Nika wondered if he was ever going to get laid again after such a weird display.