There is a delighted squirm to Cassius at that (like a heartbeat, maybe, like a simple thrum) as he watches Hugh the Doctor settle in across from him with familiarity not unlike his Hunter.
(Cassius doesn’t realize it, but he mirrors Hugh the Doctor’s body language just a little. Just enough to be off-putting. Just enough to feel a little closer to his newfound companion.)
He can see it now, he thinks. The monster. He had not noticed Hugh the Doctor’s teeth when he was so far, the unworldly, silvery sheen of them. Had thought the shimmering white upon the dark of his hair to be something more human than what it is.
Monsters here, it seems, are far more subtle than where he is from.
(Because despite all of his study of people, there is something he lacks, something obvious to observers that he cannot pinpoint, cannot replicate. Because despite how human his Hunter looks, how human they act, prey know a predator when they see one.)
Still, knowing that Hugh the Doctor is also a monster eases something in Cassius he had not known was tight to begin with. Means that he does not have to worry about scaring Hugh the Doctor anymore because Hugh the Doctor is no longer something to be scared.
“It is nice to meet a fellow monster,” he says, before shaking his head. “But… no, Hugh the Doctor, my Hunter is so much more than you and I.” For the first time in their conversation, Cassius slides his eyes shut. Tilts his head back as if reliving a fond memory, recalling dark features and a smile filled with too many teeth. “My Hunter is stronger. Faster. Sharper in ways that humans were not meant to be. They are a force of nature, birthed from blood by a song far older, far more primal than anything crafted by human hands. “
The squirming hum under his shell becomes tighter, his movements a touch jerkier when he reopens his eyes and once more gives Hugh the Doctor the full weight of his attention. His feet stammer across the floor as the energy writhing inside of him forces him into movement a few steps away.
“The Hunter is an inevitability, Hugh the Doctor,” Cassius continues, rocking back to face his fellow monster, skin rolling with the movement (with his fondness, with his eagerness to speak). “Teeth and claws in the dark. Blooming, tearing meat and fractured bones. Grooves in stone and metal alike.” He makes a gesture that ends up a little too wide, a little too stuttered with his enthusiasm. “My Hunter is a monster without limit.”
He pauses then. Drops his gaze to a buzzing, rippling palm before looking away entirely.
(Even the sudden sadness falls flat on his features.)
“Without my Hunter, I would not be here.” Would have surely slept away in his Garden and emerged into something… terrible. Something cruel. Something that would not have known just how wonderful humanity could be. A place deep within himself aches at the thought. “They have made me who I am, Hugh the Doctor. Shaped me just as their Song has shaped them.”
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There is a delighted squirm to Cassius at that (like a heartbeat, maybe, like a simple thrum) as he watches Hugh the Doctor settle in across from him with familiarity not unlike his Hunter.
(Cassius doesn’t realize it, but he mirrors Hugh the Doctor’s body language just a little. Just enough to be off-putting. Just enough to feel a little closer to his newfound companion.)
He can see it now, he thinks. The monster. He had not noticed Hugh the Doctor’s teeth when he was so far, the unworldly, silvery sheen of them. Had thought the shimmering white upon the dark of his hair to be something more human than what it is.
Monsters here, it seems, are far more subtle than where he is from.
(Because despite all of his study of people, there is something he lacks, something obvious to observers that he cannot pinpoint, cannot replicate. Because despite how human his Hunter looks, how human they act, prey know a predator when they see one.)
Still, knowing that Hugh the Doctor is also a monster eases something in Cassius he had not known was tight to begin with. Means that he does not have to worry about scaring Hugh the Doctor anymore because Hugh the Doctor is no longer something to be scared.
“It is nice to meet a fellow monster,” he says, before shaking his head. “But… no, Hugh the Doctor, my Hunter is so much more than you and I.” For the first time in their conversation, Cassius slides his eyes shut. Tilts his head back as if reliving a fond memory, recalling dark features and a smile filled with too many teeth. “My Hunter is stronger. Faster. Sharper in ways that humans were not meant to be. They are a force of nature, birthed from blood by a song far older, far more primal than anything crafted by human hands. “
The squirming hum under his shell becomes tighter, his movements a touch jerkier when he reopens his eyes and once more gives Hugh the Doctor the full weight of his attention. His feet stammer across the floor as the energy writhing inside of him forces him into movement a few steps away.
“The Hunter is an inevitability, Hugh the Doctor,” Cassius continues, rocking back to face his fellow monster, skin rolling with the movement (with his fondness, with his eagerness to speak). “Teeth and claws in the dark. Blooming, tearing meat and fractured bones. Grooves in stone and metal alike.” He makes a gesture that ends up a little too wide, a little too stuttered with his enthusiasm. “My Hunter is a monster without limit.”
He pauses then. Drops his gaze to a buzzing, rippling palm before looking away entirely.
(Even the sudden sadness falls flat on his features.)
“Without my Hunter, I would not be here.” Would have surely slept away in his Garden and emerged into something… terrible. Something cruel. Something that would not have known just how wonderful humanity could be. A place deep within himself aches at the thought. “They have made me who I am, Hugh the Doctor. Shaped me just as their Song has shaped them.”