your disguise is slipping (i think you're slipping) (o/o)

All Claude did was hum at the sound of the hero's hoarse voice. He was trying to think of what to do next but his attention went to what the hero had to say. El Musico was right; he has to keep the bastard alive. Life is more interesting having someone to throw around like a useless doll. Sure, he can get as many dolls to throw around and torture as he likes, but he wants to use El Musico as much as he can. There's something about humiliating the one who's humiliated you countless of times. He is his enemy after all. Looking down at his shoes, his brows furrowed together. At least his shoes were not white, though it was annoying now that he has to throw them out; he is already pissed about the silk robes being ruined. Somehow a giggle escaped from his throat, although he was not sure if it was forced or not. The sarcastic apology was funny to him, more so annoying nevertheless.

Clearing his throat, he waved his hand, summoning a soul. It was a black orb with a mist like tail that followed it. Although it did not completely remove the blood and stomach acid from his shoes, it was better than nothing. He picked the soul up and with a twist of his wrist, it was gone. "I like other things splurging onto me, but I wouldn't do it on these shoes. I just got them recently." He disappeared then teleported behind the hero. Then he began to pace around the cell. "I could get more muses, but none of them would ever be like you. I like having a complete bastard who sings. You make lovely music when I hurt you. It was more than enjoyable destroying that guitar of yours too; surprising how that did not completely destroy you."

"Well everyone holds something very dear to them, even if it is something as stupid as a guitar. Children, pets, cars, books, awards, rings, certain places, I've learned over the years that people tie their hearts to the most useless of things. Makes no sense to me." He shrugged. It really is foolish to him personally. Then again, he is very upset about his clothes, but they are very smooth and expensive silk. Not to mention they look amazing on him. Silk robes are better than whatever sentimental thing anyone could ever have.

Claude placed his feet together, slowly turning to look at El Musico. He tilted his head as if he never saw the hero before. "Why should I even consider any of that? I was in a cell like this too. There was an annoying bright over-light that never went out. Be thankful that I didn't install one of those. Be grateful for once."

El Musico's words were amusing enough for him to snicker at them. Some of them sounded like thing he would say, although if he doesn't like something, he will change it. Though Claude does not understand why he doesn't need to be cruel and sadistic. It's not his fault. It wasn't him to initially made him the way he is now; it's all those cowards that kept him locked up in that glass cell in the lab, using him, torturing him. As childish as it may seems, he covered his ears. He doesn't like listening to cacophony and the same words that he has been by the same idiot for spirits know how long. After rolling his eyes, he let his hands drop to his sides. "I do choose to hurt bad people, you're just too narrow-minded to see why they are bad. They all deserved it and they still do. They were the ones who made me the way I am. I did not do any of this. It's all their fault. They took whatever I had and made me their toy so now they are all my toys. Even in death, they are all my toys." He brushed more strands of hair away from his face. "You have done a lot to me. You've done a lot as much as all those dead pricks had. Plus, you've ruined my clothes. Such a maniac."

"You weren't protecting innocents! You never were! They are all horrendous! They made me what you see standing right in front of you. They took away all that I've known. I don't even know what I've had or who I was because that's how terrible they all are," He argued. Whether he liked it or not, his body was beginning to tense up. His hands froze at his sides. Claude was stuck in place as if he were some sort of statue. Oh spirits, this isn't fun. Now he really does wish that he never removed the gag. He could just do it now, but he wants to win this. Besides, he isn't sure what's flowing through his veins but it's making him appear to not move really. He hates it.

Speaking of hate, he covered his mouth as the hero continued to speak. Claude turned to face away from El Musico. His shoulders lightly bounced as he quietly chuckled yet his amusement did not last for long. The sound of his heart beating rapidly filled his ears. He clenched his fists as he moved to look back at the hero. "A child? I've never been a child, Musico. I don't ever remember being one. I just woke up one day as a thirty two year old man. A handsome one nevertheless." His tone was normal. His face was motionless, but his eyes were lit with anger. "Really? You're going to get out of here?" He gasped. "No….No you won't. Last time I checked toys cannot move unless they have batteries. You do not have batteries, Musico. No no no no no no. Besides, what regrets would I even have? There's nothing in here." He slammed his fist above where his heart is. "Nothing. If it weren't for those doctors, scientists, therapists, government officials….maybe I would have something there, but you are years and years and years too late for that. Too late you are, sadly, I suppose."

For once, Claude was genuinely confused as to what he was being told. Seriously. He was not faking the sudden disappearance of his anger or the slight tilt of his head or even the few small steps he made closer to the hero. Hell, even his widened pupils were not fake. No, it was all done out of pure curiosity and confusion. It seemed as if all that El Musico was saying had passed over his head. Did it truly go over him though? He is not sure. How scary that fact is to him.

The past is all he knows. Anything after that, he is still reeling in. His start as Master Õudne, the killings, becoming Claude Yoon….it still feels like that all had happened yesterday. But he is not going to say that. No. Why should he even consider telling a useless hero about any of it? Musico will never understand any of it. Besides, why would such a villain, a god, unravel himself the way a pitiful human would? What benefit would it bring to him? He cannot just ignore all that he had done. He cannot change after already changing multiple times before. Who even knows how many times he's changed before he was Master Õudne and Claude Yoon?

"Vulnerability is insanity. It is pure madness and I never want to go back to such a state as vulnerability. Why do you want me to become worse than I already am? Is that even possible? Change is insanity too. All you talk about is insanity. Are you sure you are not the one who needs to do all of this? You are a complete lunatic who should not be talking this much after I just thrown them around like a doll. Ah you never learn," He nodded. Extending his right arm, he pointed at El Musico. "You are insane."

Claude could not help but make a grimaced look, watching as the hero smiled. It was disgusting. "Are you sure? How do you know? I am telling you all that I know," He said. Lies, but what else could he say? Musico does not deserve anything from him. Not the truth or anything about himself that he made sure he buried six feet under. Nothing. He shook his head. "Enemies never get along. We hate each other and I prefer that, I like it that way." He scrunched his nose while watching the hero.

"Internal bleeding…." He whispered to himself. A light bulb must have gone off when he had said that, but he is not sure why. Usually people who have internal bleeding have an average of five minutes to live. That is not long, it is not enough. An aching feeling had come over him. Whatever it was, he had to get rid of it. It was one of the scariest things he has ever felt. But how could he get rid of it?

His attention fixated on El Musico, on all the blood all over the place. Out of nowhere, he just snapped and began to undo the chains. Claude has no idea how to explain it, but sometimes his mind knows what he's doing but he doesn't. Sometimes he goes blank while his mind does all the work. Usually things end up fine, more so beneficial to him, so he really is not worried about it. Freeing a hero that he had finally defeated then picking said hero up is worrisome to him. But as he teleported the two out of the cell and walked up the stairs onto the elevator, he supposed that none of the worry really mattered. "Don't talk or I will make it long and painful as I like," He mumbled. "I am too lazy to go through all the work to make someone else useless right now."

In all honesty, he is only doing this to get the weird feeling to disappear. He doesn't like it. With his left elbow, he pressed the button to the top floor which is where his personal rooms are at. Most of the ones below have to do with Vahel, but no one really needs to know that. No one has access to all the floors except for him. Thankfully no one really bothers to ask, yet why is El Musico even bothering to speak right now? Didn't he just ask for him to not say anything seconds ago? Heroes, they are only good and listen to rules when it's convenient for them.

"Of course not, but if you really want me to, I will. Just shut up." His eyes were glued to the floor indicator, watching as they went up each floor. It was not long before they reached the top floor. Claude bit the inside of his lip in response to the hero's question. He said nothing while stepping out into the hallway. Whatever is going on in his mind had taken over him. "I am still going to poke you with needles if that's your concern," is all he managed to mumble while walking inside a room.

He is not sure why he has a mini operation room, but he has had it for a few years now. Especially with some of the cuts and injuries he's gotten fighting, he knew he would need something of the sorts. Besides it is fun to help take away pain as much as it is to inflict it. The urge to just drop Musico onto the hospital bed was itching him, but he just sat him down nicely. "No talking. Focus on breathing and dying," He said while pacing around the room. He gathered up things then sat them down on a mini desk beside the bed. Then he walked over an IV pole and turned on the vitals monitor. "No talking."

Claude had stopped for a moment as he got the IV fluid bag ready. "Je ne sais pas," He said, blankly staring at El Musico. He attached the bag to the pole, then connected the bag to a tube. The robes kept getting in the way of what he was doing so he took them off and kicked them to the corner in annoyance. Sitting down on his swivel stool, he grabbed a pair of new gloves and an alcohol wipe. He took Musico's right arm then looked for the vein near the above elbow area. Wiping the alcohol wipe, he whispered, "Prick," then placed the IV needle in. Glancing over his shoulder, he stared at the vital monitor. "I should give this idiot oxygen. Hm? Should I?"

Not bothering to get up, Claude rolled over to the other side of the room. "I do not have any hallucinogens, especially any to administer to you through IVF, if that's what you're wondering." He rolled over the oxygen tank and sat it down on the right side of Musico. "Moderate to severe internal bleeding requires the administration of vitamin K, frozen plasma, blood, platelets, and such," He explained while putting the oxygen mask on. "Sometimes a high amount of electrolytes can be administrated too, it really depends on how severe the bleeding is. Then there is also checking on the bleeding through scans and ultrasounds. If the bleeding stops, then I won't have to preform a surgery or anything." Claude positioned himself so he could keep an eye on the hero but easily look at the vitals monitor. He crossed his arms and yawned. "Now don't be stupid. Just relax and breathe."

Claude said nothing for a few moments. There was really nothing for him to say. Well, he could say one of his typical insults, but there will be plenty of other times to do so. He just went on with treating the buffoon of a hero, doing everything else in order to take care of the internal bleeding. It is like second nature of him; it's very strange given that he's Master Õudne and all, but he shrugged the idea off.

"It's not 'fancy doctor-speak', everyone knows it," He said while applying medicine on a wound. "You're just stupid, Musico. Thankfully I don't know how to cure stupidity. Toys don't really have a brain you know, or don't know." Claude turned to the side and yawned before staring at the vitals monitor.

Bruno? That's El Musico's real name? Why? Why is Musico telling him about his real identity? In this situation the only thing he might need to know about Musico's real identity is his blood type, but that's it. Claude stared at Musico, or Bruno or whoever he is, with a still face. At first he wondered if he did accidentally had given him something to make the hero act loopy, but quickly disregarded the idea. The hero's vitals aren't terrible right now, but Claude could only just assume that there's something else he cannot really control. "Bruno Musico……Funny, that rhymes perfectly," He said nonchalantly. "And besides, I am not trapped here. A friend of mine owns this whole place so in a way, it's mine. You, on the other hand, are trapped, but I am great, so you should be grateful about that."

Slouching in the chair, he kept staring at the vitals monitor. While he did, he removed the gloves then disposed them. With his thumb, he rubbed inside his palm. Staring down at the floor, Claude stopped himself from clenching his jaw. Now his mind was starting to go back to what it was before, or at least, that's what he expected. "I escaped from all that I knew. I escaped eternal damnation and torture. So what if I forged a path of blood? I am free now. I am better than ever." He went to where his robes where and pulled out a hair tie. Even though he should've put his hair up before operating on Musico, it was only until then that he did. He ambled back to his previous spot, gazing over at the hero then at the vitals monitor. "Well everything is either patched up, treated, or taken care of in some way, so the bleeding should be stopping right now. It might take awhile, but other than that, just relax. I could try to move you in a bit when things clear up."

Now what is going on? His attention completely fixated on the hero. With crossed arms, Claude just stared at Musico with a puzzled look. Compliment. He has determined that it's a compliment. Typically he's used to them, yet he really never gets them from someone that's a hero or anyone who's not a client at Vahel. Something always overtakes his mind as he pretends to be a club owner, but he can't do that now. Right now, he's just Master Õunde.

The hero's question made him snap back into reality. He nodded. "I suppose. I am just watching to see if anything happens, but I got you in time so I don't really expect anything bad to happen."