OPEN POST // LELOUCH LAMPEROUGE | LELOUCH VI BRITANNIA

[chessking]

( call me out. informal/formal/comment spam/AU/crosscanon/explicit/whatever tickles your fancy. need prompts? Geass permissions over this way. )

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[chessking]

[ He doesn't look at Chara. Hard to look at them when all Lelouch can see is darkness, guided mostly by the direction of their voice and painfully aware of the steady drip, drip of blood from his wounds, and perhaps it's more his mind playing tricks on him than anything, but it sounds deafening. More deafening than their voice.

Even after seeing how brutal the executions were the past few weeks, he'd never thought that he'd be on the receiving end of one, or how agonising it would be for him.

It takes most of his strength to laugh, and it's a strangled, ugly sound that can surely be heard by the people below who are watching this pseudo horror show of a child carrying out an execution.

There's nothing innocent about Chara, that much he knows now. They're nothing like Nunnally. ]

I'm sorry.

[ He doesn't sound sorry. Lelouch has always had a talent for making things sound like backhanded compliments if he wanted to, but this is outright condescension, and he's finally letting one last burst of raw emotion, the equivalent of scathing hatred dripping from those two words.

Lelouch's anger has always been more of a cold fire than an explosion.

And even now, it still burns, even as he's crucified, as he waits for death to take him once more, waits for Chara to strike a killing blow that he can't see coming. ]

[smileyfaced]

[Does Lelouch really think Chara will begin with a killing blow? That would be much too easy -- and that'd reveal their capabilities far too quickly. This game was one of deceit as much as murderous intent. A wolf that flashed its fangs early on will be killed. Play as if you're a sheep and you'll survive.

(survival is all that matters. only the strong will live, and Chara isn't weak anymore. they don't want to be.)

That venom is accepted without a retort. If Chara speaks too much to Lelouch, the audience's suspicions will be aroused. They don't want that. Instead, they press the knife's tip onto the spot just above Lelouch's heart, letting their grip shake enough for him to feel the quiver. The promise of broaching the breaking point.]

I want you to hate me.

[They mutter it, a vicious glee snaking into their words.]

I don't want any pity.

[With that said, they suddenly let out a strangled cry and slam the knife into the spot they had been pressing down on, making sure to push as hard as they can on the hilt.]