(Untitled)

[raventonbeauty]

Enough of this.

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[beauty_addicts]

*The Twins have never responded normally to blood, or to death, or to suicide; more, they think, for them, the greedy ones.*

So you want to go back?

You could have asked us. We would have done it for you.

You didn't have to be so messy.

[raventonbeauty]

*murmurs softly, closing his eyes* I didn't want it to be your way. Not again.

[beauty_addicts]

What was wrong with our way?

You were perfect for it.

We loved it. You loved it. We love you, Ashley.

*licks up a little of the blood that's spilled onto the armrest*

[skullproprietor]

*Arkady enters, unexpectedly drawn to his brother's presence and the feeling of death and danger. He remembers this; he remembers the feeling he had when he returned to find his brother dangling, lifeless, dead.*

Ashley!

[raventonbeauty]

*The razor hits the floor, an almost inaudible thud on the soft carpet. Ashley doesn't look up, but he's not dead. His head tilts slightly, looking away from his brother. He's well weakened by the attempt, but still plenty far from death.*

... Arkady.

[skullproprietor]

Ashley. You --

*he stands where he is, watching the blood pool, and momentarily he can't move, can't even make himself breathe. And then the spell is broken because his brother isn't dead. No, he's not. He's not gone yet.*

You fool! What have you done? *In a few quick movements he is by Ashley's side, gripping the injured arm and lifting it above his brother's head.*

[raventonbeauty]

*Ashley gives a cry at that, indignance and pain, and tries unsuccessfully to pull his arm away, glaring angrily at him for the offense.*

Let me be, Arkady!