Nothing is Ever Easy [Finished]

[Kari Muffin]

Douche bag.

The swan seemed completely unphased as he listened to the man, taking a sip of his coffee. The man was going to make everything painful, but at least he wasn't pretending this would be an easy problem to solve. And at least he knew that there was a problem to begin with.

He set his coffee down, leaning forward a bit. "You forgot to mention that she's worried about your well being. She's afraid that you're going to get hurt, and never come home to her because you've managed to dig yourself a grave while picking a fight with someone stronger than you."

A smile crossed the swan's face. "And yes, I do have other questions. Do you believe in all of the stereotypes you come across, or just a few?"

By no means was the swan uncomfortable, he was still in control as far as he was concerned.

[carcinoGeneticist]

The man gave a short snort of derision. He knew Xiven worried about him, but for the life of him he couldn't figure out why. He'd been seriously injured all of once or twice, but only one of those times had he been acting outside of the woman's line of sight. Even then, he'd proved to the world that he was better than that, at least in regards to battle and fighting. He stared rather hard at the ceiling, trying to focus on an off-colored spot rather than look into the swan's eyes again.

Tulgeys. Fucking weird group of people.

"She shouldn't worry. If I do pick a fight with someone strong enough to actually kill me, then maybe it's my time to be dead." Death frightened Apocalypse whenever he stopped to really think about it, which was all of... Never. There was no point in dwelling on something that was a given for him now. He'd die one day. He'd accepted that. He rolled his head back, letting it hang over the side of the chair.

Then he started to chew on his lip, holding up four fingers. "Boggies are crazy." He lowered one. "Hearts are assholes, Clubs are annoying, Tulgeys are creepy." He gave the swan a sidelong glance, then thoughtfully raised his middle finger. "And psychiatrists are just as fucked as the people they treat. Yes? No? I don't fucking care. I don't want to be here."

[Kari Muffin]

This wasn't going well at all. The swan watched with a straight face as the man began to speak. He shifted in his chair, sipping his coffee nonchalantly.

The Queen of Hearts wasn't going to be happy. At least with this session. On the bright side he couldn't tell her anything the man had said for the sake of privacy, but he could always tell her flat out that her king was an immature waste of time.

He froze in the middle of a sip. Slowly he put the coffee down as the man listed the stereotypes he believed in. It had been a while since the swan's facial expression betrayed him. For a moment it flashed pure anger before going back to it's normal neutrality.

A small chuckle escaped him before he spoke. "You're only right about one of those stereotypes. Tulgeys are indeed creepy." He leaned forward more than he had previously. "But let me tell you a little secret. Psychiatrists are more fucked up than the people they treat. If I told you my life story you would be grateful to have someone who loves you unconditionally and is willing to get you help."

A honk escaped the man as he pulled backwards. "You're here because you love that woman just as much as she loves you. So perhaps you could pull your head out of your ass and start acting like an adult for your own sake and hers, Your Highness. Or perhaps she sent you hear because she thinks you've never been properly taught manners. I'm sure the Her Majesty is ashamed at how you treat people when they give you more than enough respect."

[carcinoGeneticist]

Compared to the placid calm that had been all the swan seemed to display in regards to emotions before Apocalypse had started to really dig his fingers in, the momentary flash of anger was like a lighthouse at midnight. He didn't miss it. On the contrary, in fact, he positively seemed to bask in it. There was little that thrilled Apocalypse more than the knowledge that he'd found a weak spot in someone's defenses and jammed his fingers into it. Then he liked to give a little wiggle to make sure that whatever he'd said really stung.

There was something more interesting than making the psychiatrist uncomfortable, however, and that was the show of emotions that proved that the man did, in fact, care about something.

Apocalypse's face lit up. "You know, I'd count that as two out of five, because the point I was getting at is that psychiatrists are people who can't fix their own bullshit lives so they go wiggling around trying to live vicariously through others. I'd make a remark about my life story, but I have no intent on ever telling it to you, but I will say - a childhood of child prostitution really fucks you up." Bright and cheerful. He could play the role of someone who had a real past, couldn't he? He could drop hints here and there about it, because the more that he focused on lies, the less likely the truth was to come through. "About the others... I'm willing to bet that met more Boggies than you and let me tell you, I've never met a single one that's all right in the head, not even mixes, so I think I've got that one too."

Then he leaned back in his seat, tilting his head to the side as he stared the swan down. He listened, unflinchingly, as the man lectured him on a situation he had no idea about beyond whatever Xiven had told him, which didn't seem to be much. Slowly, he ran his fingers across a scar across his forearm, finding distraction in the sensation of smooth and raised skin under his touch.

"As for manners, they must pass just fine when I'm doing my job, unlike some people." His merriment only grew. "Otherwise, the other Queen and the Kings would have rejected me as The King of Hearts after Bernard died. Besides, if she wanted me to learn manners, she would have hired a Diamond. They've got some degree of charm at the very least." A small smile was aimed at the swan, the man's posture and expression one that spoke of utter and complete apathy towards what he was saying.

The quack would need to work a hell of a lot harder to get a real rise out of Apocalypse.

"Ask me more questions. This scolding thing is irritating and boring."

[Kari Muffin]

The swan's expression remained blank as he listened to the man rant. Child prostitution? Yeah, right. He'd believe that in a million years. The swan shifted and drank his coffee again.

This was all quite a bit of bullshit to wade through. And he was half tempted just to kick the man out and give the Queen of Hearts her money back. This man seemed like a hopeless case. Being a jackass didn't have a cure after all.

"There is a notion out there, Mr. Apocalypse, that we carefully craft ourselves a reputation through lies. Right now, I have no doubt in my mind that you're lying to me about just about everything." Rosewood finished the rest of his coffee.

"You're nothing special Mr. Apocalypse. I've seen more than enough people like you, and you're only hurting yourself by acting tough. And I dare say you're hurting the people who love you as well. Now, how do you feel about writing?"

[carcinoGeneticist]

The pale man snorted again, rubbing his pinky against his ear and then glancing at it. Then he gave his hair a casual flick and rested his head against his hand, raising an eyebrow. "You're a hell of a psychiatrist, doc. Telling your patient that they're lying outright is a grand way to earn their trust." He shifted again, a curious glint creeping into his eyes. "What if I told you that I can still remember the first time I killed a man? Almost my entire body was inside of him by the time I was finished, I can still remember all of the blood... I was only 13, it wasn't what I wanted to do - rather the whim of my master at the time, but I would have done anything for her."

Orange eyes met pink, and there was a hatred in the slitted pupils that was not reflected in anything else about the way that Apocalypse carried himself. "She was my lover, too. Did you know that?" He said the words softly, a shiver going through him as he did.

Then he went quiet, the pleasant smile affixing itself to his face. "As for the rest, you must be on Checkmate to think I could possibly be lying. We have a full court of Nobles, all equally fit to challenge me should they feel I would dishonor them in a professional situation." Then he blinked, the smile faltering. "By the Suits, man... Do you really think I act like this all the time? We all wear different masks to meet the occasion, don't we? This is my This is a Fucking Waste of My Time mask, don't you like it?"

Then he shifted, jutting out his lower lip. "I do a lot of it every day. I'd never considered writing in my spare time, so I don't know how I feel about it."

[Kari Muffin]

Fine. Be difficult.

Rosewood was still quite skeptical of the man and anything that came out of his mouth. He shifted to cross his legs as he leaned on the arm of his own chair. His expression was still blank.

"Then tell me, what is it like to kill a man? What was it like taking someone's life? Do you remember the sound they made when they finally expired? You seem comfortable with the notion of killing, so feel free to tell me ever little detail." A grin spread on the bird's beak. He wasn't about to back down. Let the thought of writing sit and stew for a bit.

His goal right now was to find something to either make the man feel uncomfortable or at the very least to gauge how much he was actually lying about. The swan would wait patiently for either thing to happen.

[carcinoGeneticist]

Hah. That blank expression told Apocalypse everything he needed to know about the swan's belief of what he'd said. He'd given the doctor one outright lie and one guarded truth and the man had reacted the same to both - that assured him that his story wasn't the problem, it was just the fact that the damn Club didn't want to believe the King. The questions he was asking were further proof of that, and it only made Apocalypse's grin widen.

This was territory he was comfortable with. So comfortable. It was almost like breathing, remembering killing someone - anyone.

"What's it like?" He repeated, leaning back and slowly running his finger across his lips, raising his eyes to stare at the ceiling before he fixed that rather piercing gaze on Rosewood once more. "It's a lot like an orgasm. Until you've done it, you can't fully imagine it. There's power there, especially when you know you're acting in the service of someone important. I killed while I was still in the Bog. I've killed while in Her Majesty's service, both in her dungeons and out, for the betterment of the Suit. I've hunted men and women down, I've followed their every step and then finished them when they least expected it. I've heard a hundred last breaths, a hundred requests.

"But you know what my favorite part is? It's not the last breath or the sound that they make. Usually, that's less than inspiring. What I like - I'm a very hands-on man, Rosie, and what lets me know that a job is well done is that first arterial spray. There's a look in their eyes when they realize that yes, that blood is theirs, and yes, they aren't going to see the next day." He didn't blink, simply spoke, his voice slipping into a soft undertone. "Then they look at you, and there's a prayer in their gaze - it's like you're their own private God in that moment."

Then he smiled, his pointed teeth flashing in the low light. The way that the Hearts Court dealt with threats from outside - that was well known. It only made sense that a King would know what it meant to take a life. "...Do you want me to tell you more?"

[Kari Muffin]

The swan's expression remained blank. He was clearly unmoved by the description. He didn't even shift uncomfortably when the man gaze locked onto his.

The man had killed before. But there was something in his statements that didn't sit right. What was it? He couldn't quite figure it out. The swan's expression remained neutral as he mulled through all the possibilities. Of course he ran into the problem about not knowing much about the bog.

"Can you remember your first kill?" he asked idly as he looked down at his empty coffee cup. Caffeine would be nice right about now. "Oh, yes, and would you like to have a drink? You never really answered that question before."

He smiled brightly at the man. He wasn't going to give up. He couldn't give up. The swan rose to fill his own coffee cup as he waited for the man's response.

[carcinoGeneticist]

That idle, glazed expression was getting to be annoying. Apocalypse found himself wondering if the man was drugged, and entertained a thought of getting up and crossing the room, flicking the bird right between his pink eyes and seeing if that would get a rise out of him. He shifted again, folding his legs into the seat of the chair, and stared evenly at the doctor.

"Do you remember the first time you fucked a woman?" He said in a silky soft voice. "...Or man, I'm getting a vibe from you. Regardless, it's not something you forget very easily, is it? Killing someone - again, I fall back on the sex metaphor. It's similar. So the answer is yes - I do remember. I remember as well, considering how addled my brain was at that point in my life." Addled, half-formed, the two seemed to clash so very often, and it had the same basic effect on his mental state when he considered it.

As for the man's second drink, Apocalypse found himself actually considering it. A drink would give him something to focus on, which would in turn make ignoring Rosewood that much easier. He didn't really feel like talking to the man anymore; After all, he'd already found a painful jabbing point. "Water, if you would." Then he laughed to himself. "I get it now. We were talking about you for a little while there - about how you've got some serious issues of your own, some shit you've probably never been able to deal with, and now you're poking and prodding at me to try and find something that bothers me as much as your past disturbs you."

He sat up more fully, that brightness back in his eyes. "Does it hurt you? That a bipolar sociopath who gets off on killing can deal better with his issues than you can? Is that why you're focusing all your effort on making me feel like shit?"