Violent Leisure ch 1

[forgottenlover]

Title: Violent Leisure
Co-written with Severed_Sanity
Pairings: This chapter is KimbleexRoy, we’re going to ultimately end up with at least a GreedxKimbleexRoy, (GreedxKimblee people, forgive me as Greed doesn’t show up untill chapter four)
Warnings: This chapter: Head games, Rape, torture ::pokes at it:: I think that covers everything
Rating: NC-17 without a doubt

Chapter One- first half

He would never forget the feeling, the rush, the craving that his alchemy held for him. The tethered feel of twining molecules together, splicing through the atoms to form what he needed. His fingers gripped tighter around the writhing man's neck as he coldly smirked down at his face. All to soon, the feeling fled and all that remained was the building fire raging to escape from the boundaries of its human host.

Kimblee loosened his grip and let the man fall at his feet. "Thank you for the information." He cackled lightly before turning to leave. "I'll be sure to give Mustang your regards." The splashing gush of human remains was all that greeted his ears as he turned the corner towards his old pal's residence.

The house he was looking for was in a reasonably nice area of town, just bordering the military section. It wasn't big by any means, but it certainly put the barracks to shame. Of course, any Alchemist had to have somewhere to store his personal library and food. None of that impressed him though, as his mind was more focused on other matters.

How long had it been since he'd seen Flame? Years of course, but how long truly? He didn't honestly care, but the thought of being so near to his target after so long made him question just how long he had planned this out. It had been a long process, this course of action he sought to take, one that he'd toyed with as nothing but mere fanciful daydreams at first. But, when his liberation was made firm, it had become something more akin to obsession. Disturbing as it sounded, even to him, he actually enjoyed picking his intentions apart to analyze. Though, the real fun came with the result he wished to obtain. In the end, everything would be red and gone. But he liked it that way best. All he needed to do was wait.

He slipped into the house, jimmying the lock quickly to duck through the door. It was empty of life, but that was understandable since the sun had yet to go down. The lights were off, and the barren area seemed to be more like a library than a home, with bookshelves lining every wall, and books scattered over every available surface.

Kimblee's eyes skimmed over the tomes as he passed. Nothing more than simple alchemy books or subjects along those lines. Pathetic political journals broke the monotony every so often, but the bulk revolved around the breakdown of the base alchemic processes. Why would Flame even care? Sure, he'd always been a sniveling political lap dog with nothing but unrealistic ideals of the military but never one for simplicity. No, Mustang seemed to enjoy the hard route. It never ceased to amuse Kimblee when he thought back to the bumbling fool Flame had been before the war and he took even greater delight in remembering how he was afterwards. The hardened look of innocence lost was priceless. The fool.

It was two hours later that the man who Kimblee had been thinking of so intently arrived home, too focused on getting to his kitchen to realize that his door had already been unlocked when he'd twisted his key. It was a horrible display of inattention. The man didn’t even notice he was sitting there! Kimblee had long since made himself at home in the residence Roy Mustang.

Not at all worried about the time it had taken for the other alchemist to return home, he'd propped himself in one of the overstuffed contraptions he took for a chair and waited. He'd been able to glean information about the man from the objects littering the place. It was obvious he lived alone, and it was completely devoid of the knickknacks or pictures. It seemed the man had grown colder after the war, no longer the cheery optimist he'd once been. All the better. Kimblee hated dealing with simpering fools that were still clinging to ridiculous ideals. He watched Flame enter the kitchen and couldn't help but smirk. He wondered how long he could sit here before the idiot realized someone else was in his home. Probably awhile, and he didn’t want to wait.

Roy sort of paused when he realized there was a light on, as he was sure he’d turned them all off. He quickly turned around and left the kitchen again, running his eyes around the room. Now that he was paying attention, the signs of disturbance were glaringly difficult to miss.

Kimblee sat perfectly still in his seat, a half smirk plastered on his features. Maybe he would help the poor fool out. "It's a good thing, Flame, that I didn't plan to kill you right away." His voice was cold and even, no real hint of emotion floating off the words. "You're no better than a new recruit. Pathetic."

Roy’s gaze finally reached that corner of the room, staring a moment. He didn't look shocked, though inwardly he was cringing away from this signal of insanity. Wasn’t that what it was considered when you saw dead men?. "Aren't you supposed to be dead?"

"Nice way to greet a fellow war veteran, Flame." He was already bored with the man and things had barely begun. How badly did he want what information Mustang had? The need for information did not outweigh the need to quench his thirst for bloodshed. However, he didn't feel the need to do it so quickly. "Define your term for dead."

The colonel stayed over on his side of the room, glad his gloves were on even as he failed to move into action to use them. "Last I knew, you were supposed to have been executed." He shook his head a little. "What did you expect me to say? Nice to see you? That would be a blatant lie."

"And we both know how you feel about lying, don't we?" He leaned forward from the chair and pinned the man with a murderous glare. "Executed?! Death would have been preferable to what I, and many like me, received. Ah, but death is a fickle mistress who likes to dance along fate's boundaries and give false hope of a true end. The bitch didn't like me that well. I'm still here. And it seems she doesn't care for you either... you're still breathing."

Roy twitched a little, then lifted his chin with a smirk. "Well, then it's just the way things work out, isn't it? And yes, I'm quite sure you were supposed to be killed quite a few years ago."

Kimblee may have seemed relaxed and aloof but he was, in reality, poised and ready to spring. He'd also been studying his fellow alchemist intently. He took note of the slight fatigue showing in the man's posture, and could tell that he'd had a rough day by slight scuffmarks on the man's boots. With a smirk he noted the white gleam of those infamous white gloves. Mustang was slow, but not stupid, thankfully. Things were looking up for Kimblee's evening.

"Supposed? That doesn't make it so, Flame. No one really cares what happens to an incarcerated man... or woman for that matter." He mumbled the last bit as he thought back to his time in the cells. He remembered, vaguely, seeing some women being ushered to and from the various cells that lined the laboratory prison, but he shook the thoughts off. This wasn’t about his memories, it was about the here and now. "As long as I was kept out of sight, no one knew the difference. So in a way, I was dead."

"In fact, they announced that you were already dead if I remember correctly." It was not the day for this. Not that it ever would be, but today he'd had to deal with a new influx of paperwork after the Elrics totaled some property to the East. He was exhausted.

"Ah, are we stalling for something Flame?" Kimblee asked in a false cheery voice. "You weren't listening very well. They can say anything they like, but it doesn't make it true. They have the power to make people disappear, to be forgotten. Didn't work out to well for them in the end though. Their little experiment backfired." His eyes seemed to flare to life as he got lost in a far away moment. "The fireworks were spectacular... too bad you weren't there to see them."

Roy did actually flinch with that one. He really preferred not to remember the joy he’d once taken in his fire. "Not stalling, just trying to decide what to do with you."

Kimblee's smirk turned dark in a matter of seconds. "Do with me? My, my, getting presumptuous aren't we Flame? You were no match for me during the war, and I have serious doubts that you’ve improved over time. But if you care to prove me wrong..." With painstakingly slow movements intended to be intimidating, on some level, he rose to his feet and placed his right hand on his hip. "I'm all for it."

Roy very carefully kept himself from looking away, as he had so many times during the war when faced with that very same challenge. "Well, you did invade my home."

"Yes, that. Very bad security you have. Almost laughable how easy it was to slip into this place. Really Mustang," He switched to the man's given name to turn it more personal. Flame, Crimson, Crystal... those names were just some mechanically contrived nonsense to give the military alchemists some twisted sense of importance. A bunch of horse shit if you asked him. "You'd think someone who'd played by the rules of war would be a bit more cautious. But then again, you never played correctly." He began to inch his way closer to the man with the serious intent of curling his fingers around the slender neck sticking out from the blue collar.

Roy stiffened, shifting back a little in a barely perceptible movement, so his back wasn't to a wall anymore. "I go by my own rules. I only just got here anyway, the security hasn't been a main concern."

"So noted, but I could really care less. Your security isn't what I came here for Mustang, as I'm sure even you have figured out." He was almost within arms reach of the man, and some part of him wondered why the alchemist who set fire to hundreds during the war hadn't managed to light a single spark by now. If he was truly conceited, he would have said it was because he commanded attention with an murderous aura, but he knew better than that.

Roy slipped to the side when Kimblee got close, moving back at least a good two feet. He was cursing himself for the ingrained reaction to not attack the man, and his fingers twitched a little as he thought about it. He thought he’d broken all the conditioned reactions from Ishbal, but obviously he was mistaken.

A dark brow rose over a gold eye at the movement, consideration making him stop his advance. Conceited or not, he was beginning to think there was something to this. He almost barked in laughter when a thought came to him. "Oh come now Mustang, not still carrying that pitiful oath around are you? The one we all swore when we joined? I believe there was something in there about attacking your fellow soldier? Awww I didn't know you cared."

"Believe me, it's not something I'm in a mood to follow." He narrowed his eyes a little. Really, if any of the other soldiers had threatened him from back then, he would have reacted instantly, but Kimblee always had had a weird affect on him. He brought his hand up, and was pleased he wasn’t practically immobile anymore.

He'd been expecting this since the beginning so he wasn't surprised by the action. He'd also been waiting for it. Within an instant he sprang into motion, lunging forward to catch the man's raised wrist in one hand while his other latched onto the one by the alchemist's side. The force from his swift movements sent them both careening into a nearby wall, making a distinctive THUNK as the shorter of the two's back connected with the sheet rock and plaster.

Roy hissed out a breath and barely avoided smacking his head, dark eyes glaring at Kimblee from the sudden proximity. Now his chance was ruined, the damn man was too close. He should have attacked a long time ago.

“Now that was pathetic Mustang." Kimblee breathed quietly, as if the innocent words were threatening. "You never learned, did you? But that's really to my advantage, so I'm not complaining." He squeezed the upwardly turned wrist, twisting it just enough to cause sufficient pain.

"Feel special, anyone else would have been fried a while ago." He gritted his teeth, refusing to lose the calm glare.

The taller man bent his head forward until their noses practically touched, deflecting the pitiful excuse for a glare with one of his own. His, however, was anything but calm. "Honored, I'm sure. You should have known better. A convicted killer just happens to be waiting for you to return home and you spend your time bantering on like a simpleton instead of taking action. Endearing, but stupid."

"It wasn't for lack of wanting to, make no mistake on that." Roy leaned his head away, ending up fully against the wall. He'd been stupid, he could admit that. He'd also been in shock.

The movement exposed more pale flesh behind the blue and gold of the uniform. A sight that made the Crimson alchemist smile in manic delight, but whether it was from the unconscious act of submission, or from something else, he couldn't rightly tell. Either way, it gave him more confidence in his skewed course of action. "I don't make many mistakes Mustang. But your wanting and my doing are two different things. You see, " He tilted his face until it was right against the man's ear, "I take advantage of the weaknesses of others... and enjoy doing it."

Roy didn't like that at all, and he jerked at his hands, finally seeming to get it through his head that he was pinned and shouldn't be just standing there. He was seasoned military, he should know better. Even the newest recruits knew better than to let themselves be trapped in like this.

Kimblee merely added more pressure to both wrists, digging his nails into the fabric at the hem of the gloves where they snagged bits of flesh. He'd also pressed one of his knees into the man's legs, effectively stunting any attempts to kick at him or struggle free. "Going somewhere?" His tone was amused, eyes watching the side of Mustang's face.

"Get off me." He tried, futilely, to dislodge Kimblee, voice steely.

How he enjoyed taunting his opponents, nettling at their self worth, logic, or anything else he could get at. It was just too easy to get a rise out people, and Mustang always had been the easiest. Now that he had him practically where he wanted him, it wasn't going to be easy to stop. This was not what he had planned on from the beginning... but it would entertain him none the less.

Kimblee pressed more of his body against the struggling man and laughed. "No, I don't think I will."

The smaller alchemist hissed a little, deciding that if he got a bit burned to get Kimblee off him, that would be perfectly acceptable. He narrowed his eyes a little and twisted his hand so he could snap.

"Tsk tsk, and here I thought you'd learned your place." Things could have gone an assortment of ways at that point. Not all of them very good in Kimblee's opinion, and few even touched on what he wanted. So, in an effort to keep things under his control, he pressed further onto the man until he was practically flush, bent his head towards the exposed neck, and bit hard.

Roy jerked, his concentration broken before he could carry through his intentions, and he stilled briefly, the jolt of pain in that area wholly unanticipated. Of course, he knew better than to try to predict Kimblee, but he'd gotten out of the habit of not being shocked.

Kimblee didn't release the flesh until coppery tang bombarded his sense. The taste of blood was something he sorely missed during his years of incarceration, so he was a bit greedy as he lapped at the wound for a few moments. He pulled back to smirk at his victim. "If I knew that was all it would take to keep you quiet Mustang, I would have done that years ago."

"Get off me." It was a hiss, but Roy only managed to put a minimal amount of command behind it as he jerked at his wrists. He gave up on trying to keep the man's gaze, deciding just getting away from him would be nice. The bastard had just bitten him. Nobody had before, at least not like that.

"Tug all you like, but I doubt you'll get anywhere like that." The sight before him was amusing, but also alluring. This was definitely not what he had in mind earlier, but now, seeing the feared Flame alchemist struggling to get away from him and the situation he'd put him in, it awoke another part of Kimblee that had lain dormant within him since the war. It was true he'd always been sadistic, perhaps even a tad masochistic, to suit his needs, and now he was drawing from his experience with both. He ground his knee into the man's leg more harshly and waited for the delicious signs of pain to start wearing a pattern in Mustang's eyes.

Clenching his teeth a little, the Colonel growled, deciding to try and shove him off instead. "Stop it."

Kimblee had wondered when it would get to this point, and was, quite frankly, surprised the man hadn't tried to knock him off earlier. Then again it was Mustang underneath him, so he possibly could manage his goal given the chance. Of course it didn't work like the alchemist wanted, though it did manage to make Kimblee take a step back. It wasn't for long though, because as soon as he regained his equilibrium he slammed the man back into the wall. He growled low in his throat, practically clawing at the wrists in his hands, "I don't plan on stopping anything Mustang. Once I start something I finish it."

It was obvious the body slam had had an affect when Roy had to take a deep breath, briefly dazed by the force behind it. He'd manage to actually get a bit away from the wall before the man had knocked him back into it, and he hadn't saved his head this time. He focused quickly enough to register his wrists were in quite a bit of pain though. "Let go of me you sadistic bastard!"

He drank in the obvious plea through the threatening voice and relished the sensation it gave him. There weren't any doubts that he was enjoying this situation far more than any man should, but he couldn't help himself. This was, by far, the most fun he'd had since he turned that unfortunate informant into a crimson colored stain in the alleyway just hours before. "Mmm I think not, and I wouldn't be doing that again if I were you. You don't want to upset me Mustang." He dipped his head until they were practically nose to nose again. "You wouldn't enjoy me upset."

The dark eyed man stiffened at the inherent threat in that, pressing back away from the other immediately with a defensive glare. He was beating himself liberally for being so stupid as to let the man within range of him. "You expect me to just stand here?"

Kimblee snaked his tongue over his upturned lips, "Oh no, I don't expect you to just stand anywhere Mustang. I honestly expect you to do your damnedest to kill me. But I don't see you succeeding." He wasn't going to waste much more of this perfect opportunity on baiting the man, even though it was deliriously fun to do so.

With a deepened smirk he again attacked the pale flesh, latching onto the same spot. He idly wondered how long it would take before he got him to scream. As he bit down again he thought he wouldn’t mind the wait. Roy didn't freeze this time, instead immediately thrashing instead of just letting him.

That hurt, and he wanted the damn man off him so he could effectively attack. He tried to get his hands into a good angle to snap again, as he couldn't with how Kimblee had them in his grip. The man only laughed against the smaller alchemist's neck and bit down again. He didn't linger this time, instead snapping upwards, dropping the upward wrist and slamming his palm into the man's cheek.

"I told you, Mustang, you shouldn't upset me." He slammed the palm into the reddened cheek once more before recapturing the wrist. He made sure to grab just below the fabric this time and he brought it towards his mouth. With a devilish smile, he sank his teeth into the one of the white fingertips and yanked the glove free. "One down," He growled as he spit the material to the floor and tugged up the other arm. "One to go."

Roy jerked back, fighting to keep his hand out of glove tugging reach. He had to beat back the rise of panic this very concept inspired. He refused to be completely helpless. At least he wasn't much weaker than the other man, even if the other was bigger...

"See, there you go again... upsetting me." Kimblee sighed in a put upon manner. He easily defused any further struggles by bringing his knee up into the man's stomach with force enough to stun momentarily. With that out of the way, the second glove was quick work.

Roy fought to regain the breath that had been driven out of his lungs, fisting his hands tightly and feeling completely naked without his main weapon. He certainly couldn't get to his gun at this angle either. Fists it was. He took advantage of the distance left by the blow to his stomach to try and trip him up though, or at least to kick him away.

It was unexpected and shouldn't have worked, but Kimblee wasn't perfect, so when Mustang's ankle snaked behind one of his own and tugged upwards, he lost his balance. Thankfully, to him at least, he didn't loose his grip on the other man's wrists. The connection with the floor, quickly followed by the full weight of another body slamming into his chest sent him grimacing and gasping for air, but he didn't let the pain phase him. He'd been through far worse so he wasn’t about to let something this small deter him from action. Within seconds of hitting the floor, he rolled to the side and pinned the smaller alchemist beneath him.

Between gasps of air he sneered down into Mustang's face. "That . . .was a . . .mistake"

A brief flash of satisfaction flickered across his face, but he was less than pleased when he found himself pinned to the floor, not even having gravity to work with anymore. "It was rather satisfying on my end."

Kimblee hissed when he moved the ankle the man had tripped up. It was probably going to swell. He would have to repay him for that. "Short lived as well." He snarled and claimed the man's lips in a savage kiss that was sure to bring blood from one of them. The smaller man wasn't in the least happy with that course of action at all and bit. He wasn't even about to let it head anymore that direction than it already had.

The Crimson alchemist practically moaned into his victim's mouth when he felt the pain flare from his lips, and he drew back to smile. The damn ass nearly bit clean through his bottom lip, so the blood was dripping freely. He licked at it a moment before chuckling. "So you like it rough, do you Mustang? Hmm, that's alright, so do I. Never was one for the safe fuck and suck myself. Too boring." Kimblee didn't intend to do more than strip away the man's resistances while possibly get some satisfaction out of making him writhe underneath him. He honestly didn't plan on kissing him either... but it looked and tasted good at the time. What the other didn't know wouldn't hurt.

His eyes widened a little with that, and it was entirely not the reaction he'd wanted. The slight widening quickly turned into a narrow eyed glare. "Get off me, you sick bastard." He said each word in a measured voice, trying to make it come across as pissed instead of frightened. He'd managed that before, so he figured he could do it now.

"I'm particularly enjoying the view from up here Mustang, so again NO." He slid a knee between the other man's legs and pressed hard enough to hurt. "You don't seem to be enjoying this as much as me. Pity really. Would be so much simpler if you stopped being stupid. But I can't expect clarity from a dunder-headed fool, now can I?" It was just too easy and way too much fun to bait and yank the man. He laughed quietly against Mustang's neck as he lapped at the earlier wound.

Roy twisted a little, trying to firmly keep Kimblee off the damn bite, and he jerked at his pinned wrists a little as he choked back a pained whimper. He wouldn't give him the satisfaction. While Kimblee may not have heard it, the sudden clenching of the throat underneath his lips and the suddenly pent up rush of air, he felt. He smiled ferally on the bite a ground his tongue into the wound. He was going to make Mustang scream, and he had all the time in the world in which to try. He didn't doubt the younger alchemist's resolve, not in the least, but he knew he could far outlast him. He wasn't about to leave it alone, so he pressed his knee just that much harder into Mustang's groin.

Briefly pausing his efforts to get away, he instead just took what slack he did have to push himself away from that painful pressure, trying to twist away with the action as well. "Leave me the fuck alone."

Kimblee jerked his head up and continued the motion until he could stare, fully, down at the man beneath him. He took sadistic pleasure in seeing the faint hints of a nasty bruise creeping up on the reddened cheek, and even more when he seen the bloody mess he left on the pale neck. Of course, it wasn't so pale anymore. "You keep saying the same things Mustang and I keep giving you the same response. This is one of those times that the instructors at the academy warned about. The ones where you are supposed to just grit your teeth and bare the pain. Not one for listening to them either I suppose."

The shorthaired man gave him something that could conceivably be a smile, but was really more of a determined baring of teeth. "No."

"Pity for you then. But of course I don't think I mind that. I'd rather you scream than stay quiet. I don't particularly like the quiet ones. They tend to be less entertaining, and you are so much more than that." At this point he had a choice, he could either continue down this path and make the colonel truly regret something the man probably didn't even realize he'd done, or he could finish his baiting and drag out the information he wanted then leave the pitiful sap to recover. He wasn't clear on which he wanted more.

Roy glared back at the eyes so close to his, hanging onto his resolve to be a stubborn silent brick. "I never said I'd scream." It was a growl, since he'd barely gotten a chance to catch his breath properly.

Mustang's words decided for him. The cocky bastard thought he was going to get through this little encounter with just a few scratches and a hell of a hickey. He had another thing coming. Kimblee's eyes turned to pure ice as he stared down into the unrelenting depths of his victim's eyes. "And I'm not going to give you the choice to refuse."

A flicker of fear actually made it into Roy’s dark eyes as he saw the subtle change, but he didn't break the intense staring contest either, tightening his hands into fists where they were pinned to the floor. "I won't."

Kimblee couldn't help the dark smile that flitted across his bloodied lips. "By the time I'm finished with you Roy, you'll be sorry you didn't do this my way." He needed to secure those effective killing machines Mustang called hands. True, they were less dangerous without the faithful cloth but they could still do some damage if they weren't bound and out of the way. All he needed was a few seconds and a free hand to be able to accomplish the task... but it involved letting one of Mustang's go.

The long haired man quickly decided that giving the man something else to worry about for a moment would help. He raised his knee to relieve the pressure to the younger man's groin, only to ram it roughly back seconds later. With that done, he released the most damaged wrist and brought his hand to his mouth to capture some of the blood from his lip. Mere seconds later, he set about drawing a quick array beside the raven haired man's head. He wasn’t going to be afforded much time, so with one quick glance to make sure he'd gotten the signals correct, he placed his hand atop and waited for the alchemy to activate.

Caught out by the blow to the rather sensitive area, Roy didn't have a chance to avoid the alchemy that was activated right next to his head. One moment he was stunned by a too well aimed knee, and the next he had not quite solid bands from his tile floor securing his uppers arms down, completely eliminating any chance he had of doing anything else with them. And that truly disturbed him as nothing else had yet.

When the bands finished filtering through the tile and secured the man firmly, Kimblee felt it safe to relax his grip and let go of the other wrist completely. Bits of skin and blood were under his nails on both hands, but he wasn't too worried about that. A bit of soap and a scrub later would take care of any evidence. The dark smile deepened as he straddled the man's hips. There were still the legs to worry about, but he didn't think the alchemist would think that far ahead just yet... and if he did. More the fun for him.

"Ah free hands at last. Though why I didn't just blow yours off... maybe I should have now that I think about it. Would have been less trouble for me. But you would have died from blood loss and shock. Oh well. This more than makes up for it, don't you think?" Roy took a deep breath and relaxed a little, seeming to find the clarity in there somewhere to give the man a nasty glare. "The eyes are the most expressive tools in human language, did you know that? They have been said to be windows to the very soul, and can never lie. I think its bullshit, but it sounds nice." He was sprouting random crap out of pure desire to make the man squirm. He was delaying the inevitable, he knew, but it was enjoyable to watch the emotions play off the man. Even if it wasn’t written on Mustang's face, the emotions were apparent from his body language, breathing patterns, and yes, those damned dark eyes. "You're afraid, I can tell... but still stubbornly fighting reality. Don't worry... it'll come soon."

Roy didn't stop glaring, but a bit more unease filtered into it, weakening the impact he'd been trying for. He also couldn't hold onto his gaze anymore. "What’s the point of this?"

"Point? You mean there has to be a point for you to finally accept what's happening?" He couldn't help the tight laugh. "There was never any point to this Mustang, there was just the moment. From there it grew. There still isn't much of a point, more of a need on my end. You presented a challenge and I need to answer it. There's nothing more, and nothing less. Hell, all I wanted from you in the beginning was information on what the fuck happened since my sentence. It’s amazing how little you can learn when you are a free man and yet still wanted." He calmed down after a deep breath, and he gave Mustang a thoughtful look. "No, no point. Just fun... think you can deal so readily with that?"

Roy was rather sure he stopped breathing altogether for a second, then he took a slow, uneasy breath, seeming to be utterly fascinated by what Kimblee had just said. "So essentially, if I'd just asked what you wanted, I wouldn't be here?"

"Well, well, well... there's a functioning brain up there after all." He knew he was being patronizing, but Mustang deserved it. "But yes, if you'd just asked then none of this would have happened. I don't do things rashly, even if I've been perceived as demented. Of course, I didn't try to dissuade that little rumor either. It's so much easier to get what I want when people believe I'm a megalomaniac."

Second part of the chapter