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The oracle's proxy paces around his office. He takes the device out of the lapel pocket and looks at it frantically once again. He isn't sure how many times he has done so today. The beads tangle around his thumb before he knows it, and in a single, terrifying moment,
Beep.
The timer comes to an end. He has failed to fulfill the Prescript. Stressed, he huffed, bringing his hand up to his temples and rubbing them in prominent frustration.
He knew a moment like this would come, that he would end up unsuccessful one day or another. He has seen what befalls those who have failed to complete to the city's will. Preforce, it warranted severe punishment usually resulting in death, or to ruthlessly mangle one's body to the point or irrecognition. Rien's hand trembles, and he sighs, his lips curled into a wry smile. An incredibly lackluster one. Fucking hell, he looks like one of those cartoon characters that try to sport a smile for the first time in their lives. His eyebrows furrow as a million thoughts on how he could avoid his demise surge through his head.
And all of those thoughts are crushed as soon as The Thumb's Nursefather barges into the room by kicking open the locked door via her heel.
"Oi, Proxy!" Valencina calls out obscenely like how she'd shout out to Textbook, her right hand lightly holding the hilt of her katana like she was going to unsheathe it and carve out the other side of his face as well, while her rests left on her hip.
The oracle's proxy flinches, His head snaps to his office door, now hanging on its hinges, with the Thumb Nursefather standing just before it. He can't help but look between her and the door, almost dumbfounded.
He takes a deep breath, trying to cool himself down.
"Miss Valencina." He 'greets', his voice unnaturally calm despite his previous state. "While I have no knowledge of what your urgency stems from, please do keep in mind of the fees that reside in getting that lock fixed-"
"Pff! And you'd think The Indexs' nursefather would have better things to worry bout' after fumbling a Prescript." She rolled her eye so hard Rien thought it'd pop right out.
"I am very much capable of... Mm?" He comprehends her words shortly after his pause. His lone eye widens ever-so-slightly. How does she of all people...
"How do you know?" He asks rather bluntly, his hand dropping from his suit pocket to his side. Valencina simply laughs at him.
"Ah, right. That pissy little device of yours doesn't tell you whose in charge of you once you fuck it up." She takes one step closer to him before the signature sadistic grin appeared on her face.
"I'll tell you then, yeah?" She takes the cigarette from between her teeth, small chips of its inside falls out onto the floor. "I'll be the one givin ya your thorough penalty."
Rien's expression hardens as Valencina takes a step closer to him. His hand clenches into a fist, his thumb tapping it against his leg.
"I see." His voice is flat with a mix of almost unnoticable dread. He doesn't like how this is going. He really does not. He could try to fight back, of course he could, he'd a plethora of weapons by his side at all times. Yet he does acknowledge that disobeying the Prescript is a foul sin in of itself, and disobeying the Prescript's punishment would be sure to kill him before he knows it.
"Are you going to kill me?" He asks once more, although he is certain that inquiring too much will end with that same fate.
She cackles again, although he is sure that this time it is out of a different kind of twisted amusement. Perhaps she saw the fear lingering behind that single, soulless eye.
"Oh calm down! Still need ya' for little Ticket, don't I. Little shit's always talking bout you." She flicks the burnt cigarette onto the floor on top of its mess and crushes it under her heel. Rien is almost certain it's another attempt on getting under his skin.
His shoulders sag from an invisible weight, A small amount of stress leaves his body, and tension slowly leaves his features. So he will have the luxury of leaving this room alive and hopefully well. That is a good enough mercy to quell his fears for a moment. Of course, she could change her mind at any given time, but Rien decides to take the moment of respite for now. As for the mention of Yoshihide, however...
"Ah? She talks of me?" He repeats, curiosity within his voice. His hand slightly dips into his pants' pocket.
"Pfft. You really have some nerve to be demanding information outta me." Valencina's smile is replaced by something unreadable, though it was far, far away from anything close to benevolence.
"You'll take your correction like a good fucking boy before you start talking back to me." Her hand leaves the hilt of her curved blade, slightly gritting her teeth.
Rien takes a moment just to blink at her before he sighs, knowing that he has overstepped his bounds yet again. He puts up one hand in a placating gesture.
"Apologies." He says curtly, his voice flat once again. He takes a small, hesitant step back before straightening his back, trying to make himself look presentable.
"You may proceed." The next thing he sees when he opens his eye is Valencina glaring daggers at him.
"Of course I may." She scoffs and strolls past him. It would take more than some half-baked apology and a mild attempt at respecting her. Ha. Back in her day this bitch wouldn't have even dared to even look at her.
Valencina takes a seat on a chair that looks rather out of place inside of the delicately furnished office, one leg over her other. She unsheathes her blade and puts it near the back leg of said chair. "Over here."
The Index's Nursefather has no choice but to do as he is told, he approaches Valencina and positions himself infront of her, his hamds behind his back. Then tip of Valencina's dress shoe brushed against his knee. There's an uncomfortably long pause as Valencina stares him down. Her silence somehow fills Rien with more dread than when she is yelling at him.
And his position is then ruined as in a split second Valencina grabs a fistful of black hair and practically shoves the Index Nursefather over her knee, keeping his head down just enough for his neck not to snap. Rien's breath immediately hitches, his lone eye widening as he is manhandled onto the former sottocapo's lap - his stomach lands over her thighs unceremoniously just enough for his ribs to ache after he settles in a rather indignifying position.
He scrambles for leverage and his hands end up holding onto her leg as best as he can whilst his head is bent in a brutish angle. "Valencina." He said calmly, although he was anything but. "What are you planning?"
Hearing her own name from the pitiful, pathethic man before her almost felt like an insult to Valencina's very core. Her free hand promptly took a brutal handful of his ass.
"Shut it." As a former sottocappo it seems the authoritative voice always remains. She takes another look at the man beneath her in unbridled disdain and slaps the clothed flesh beneath her palm just as harshly as she was grasping it, eliciting a grunt of pain from the proxy.
"Count, pig. You're good at that, aren't you?"
Rien wants nothing more than to struggle out of her grip, but the knowledge of how doing as such would certainly end in a premature end holds him back. And so, "...Hana." He counts. The number leaves a bitter taste on his mouth. But he barely gets it out properly as her hand struck him again. "Dul." Rien huffed.
Valencina looks at him with a bored eye. It's not as entertaining as she wants it to be, perhaps the stoicism of the men she hit was starting to become dull for her. Not that she would do this to Lucio, she at least has the decency to dismiss the idea of crushing his dignity.
Not Rien's, however.
His neck stung from the awkward angle it was crudely bent in, not to mention Valencina's gaze on him as she paused only served to fuel the shame building up inside his gut. The Thumb's Nursefather delivers the next few in quick succession, Rien feels her hand tangle inside his hair and fuck it up even further with every hit. "Seht.. Net." He somehow manages to regulate his breathing, much to Valencina's irritation. She yanks Rien's head up and bends it as far backward as it can go without dislocating it. He helps, gritting his teeth to prevent any further noise. He couldn't. His pride doesnt allow it.
"How's it feel?" She taunts, shaking his head slightly forward and watching him struggle. His legs were tense, knees bent with his ankles together mid air. The Thumb's Nursefather hums as she leans back on the chair as if she was not holding a vicelike grip on his locks.
He feels almost dizzy from the constant shift of focus, he lets out a shaky breath, but he supposed giving her the satisfaction of knowing how it affected him would satisfy her at least for a while. He hoped. "It hurts." He lets go of her leg and finds his grounding on the edge of the chair. He glances at her face.
She looks back at him almost immediatly.
"It is supposed to. You're a grown-" Her hand is hurled down in a ruthless swat, Rien flinches violently and bites down onto his tongue nearly hard enough to draw blood. "-fucking man. And look where you are." She spat out as if she was talking to a mutt. The Thumb's Nursefather only continues her relentless assault, occasionally spanking his thighs where she knew it'd hurt most.
Rien had been horribly wrong, admitting it stung only fueled Valencina with more vigor.
And he was damn beginning to regret it now. Every lash of her palm against his clothed flesh first bloomed a searing pain that coursed through his veins before leaving a dull, constant ache in its wake. His voice is strained, yet he continues counting every strike. By the time he gets to the thirties, his joints had long given up on him, his body going slack in Valencina's hold. He loosely grasps the front left leg of the poor chair which was slightly creaking from the sheer weight subjected onto it. The only thing that stuck his cracked, porcelain mask to his sizzling wound was a few stray locks of his hair that clung to it stubbornly, but Rien could feel it slipping bit by bit following his every movement. Its humiliating, he hates it, but he supposes its better than having his guts sprawled over the floor after an ambush by Index units.
The Thumb's nursefather suspends her onslaught and traces a finger over the tenderized fabric, she could feel how he trembled beneath the lightest touch. Good. he's almost there. The mere thought of it makes her snicker, seeing it infront of her turns it into a laugh. She'd bet at least ten thousand Ahn the surface of his skin was a lovely red by now, might as well encourage it further. It's amusing how him of all people could be defiled so thoroughly so easily.
Rien wants to vomit. His face had flushed a deep red a bit ago, sure, but now he has to come to terms with the fact his face is burning ablaze with embarrassment all while his head is bent upwards where he knows she could see said flush in its full glory. He could control it to a certain degree of course but that too had its limits.
"Perhaps you would... allow me the knowledge of when you will halt?" His voice comes out sorry much much to Valencina's delight. His mask soon drops to the floor, his shoulders tense again as lets out a choked hiss when it falls off. By a miracle that will be the only mercy he'll be getting today, the porcelain does not shatter thousandfold into a million pieces. Lord knows what would happen to him then. He was half-sure that she would make him gather all of them, bake it into a cake and devour it whole under thirty seconds. And it still sounds more pleasing than the treatment he is recieving as of the moment.
"Ya think you're in a position to ask for anythin' out of me?" Valencina thrusts her hand down again with commendable force, the sheer force of it joined by the excruciating pain that now came from his exposed wound makes Rien jolt almost violently. "You're done once I tell you you are done."
"S--" He almost curses under his breath, holding himself back by biting down on his tongue once again, the dents he had left last time he bit down puncture and the taste of copper invades his mouth. He pants and tries to get a semblance of oxygen into his system, but still; "...Seoreun yeodeol." [Thirty Eight] he barely gets the number out.
"Ha." She chuckles, taking notice of the crimson trail that dripped down his lips. The Thumb's nursefather releases his hair, the gesture is followed by an audible sigh of relief. She rubs her palm with her now free hand, soothing the sore joints. Her gloves had ruffled slightly up her sleeves, she pulls them down as soon as she notices. No way she's touching him with bare hands. "Can't even control your own mouth. Get off. Now." A stern, amused voice commands. She lightly jabs up The Index Nursefather's ribs with her knee, which is enough force for the man in the suit to grunt before straightening himself up and getting up on legs that felt like they'd fail him at any given moment.
Rien supports himself on the edge of his desk, looking at Valencina through a half lidded eye. His gloved finger absentmindedly traces his wound which stains it with fresh, burning blood. "Am I.. dismissed?" He asks, his voice defeated.
"No. Fuck you for asking." The Thumb's nursefather stands up from her seat and kicks the chair to the side before her hand reaches down to grab the handle of her blade. "Your hands, on the table. Move them an inch and I'll gag you as well." She drags her thumb over the tip of its ornament greedily before her gaze trails back to Rien himself. And by the time she does, he's already taken position. She can see his trembling, it almost makes him seem fragile. Pfft, its almost pitiable.
Somehow Rien found the sound of her footsteps getting louder and louder behind him more intimidating than the fact she was holding a weapon that she has gutted out numerous people with. He could hear the crisp chisel of it dragging right behind her, and the moment she stopped filled him with dread once more. He dared not to move a singular muscle, hesitant to even blink. But his exposed flesh on his face makes it rather hard to go more than sixty seconds without wincing slightly in pain.
Valencina leans like one would bend onto a pool table with the stick between two fingers and takes a hold of his wrists, pinning them to the desk properly. No struggle came on his end, which she was rather proud of - she takes one step further, just enough for his good eye to be in her view and brings her hand backward, pressing the side of the blade against his ass. She saw how Rien tried to supress a shudder and failed just as quickly and bit back another laugh.
"Ready?" She tapped it against him, Rien cannot tell if its a genuine question or a taunt anymore but her tone dripping in condescension suggested the latter. He stands perfectly still with his head hung low, focusing on two varying types of pain that were constantly assaulting his senses along with burning humiliation.
"...Of course." A shaky voice responds to The Thumbs's nursefather, but the next thing he feels isnt a sharp swat against his skin but rather his arms being released from her grasp.
"Then wait for a little, you can do that for me, can't you?" Valencina doesn't wait for a response, she produces a cigar out of her overcoat's pocket identical to the one between her teeth when she'd first kicked down the door. She bites one end of it off and puts it in the same position, leaning on the right corner of her lips. She savours a long drag of tobacco that lasts for a solid ten seconds before she huffs out a plume of alchohol-tainted smoke with a sigh. Rien recognizes the brand of liquor, it's Old Parr if he remembers correctly. He briefly remembers The Thumb's apprentice carrying bottles upon bottles of it into the corridor of The Thumb, which was usually followed by muffled yelling and a glass shattering onto a wall.
Once the chips of its insides begin littering downward, Valencina spits it out onto the floor once again and without warning cracks the katana forward. Rien chokes on his spit and flinches, trying to catch his breath only fills his lungs with the scent of nicotine combined with alchohol. A combination he hopes will never come his way ever again punishment or not. He can almost feel her gaze piercing into him while he can only writhe in pain. She's by far enjoying his struggle. He wants to cry, maybe he wants to laugh. His thoughts are scrambled all over the place but he can't focus on a single one.
"Proxy." Valencina spoke in a tone that could only be described as sadistic. "What'd I tell you about squirming like a roach?" The weapon is lashed at him again brutally in a constant, repeating cycle. She could barely make out his "apologies." between his grunts of pain, his hoarse voice from counting out every strike beforehand had really gotten to him. More than she had expected. And this was the man they wanted to reshape into that certain fixer in the library? Valencina almost snickers at the concept when she looks at the pathethic man before him, trembling like a leaf caught in heavy wind at the slightest touch.
It was torture.
Both mentally and definently physically.
Rien's entire body ached. His hands had splintered from the chipped wood of his desk that'd stabbed through his white gloves scraping against his palms perpetually, his face burned not only from humiliation but the carved, blazing side of his head. His abdomen slightly pressed onto the edge began stinging, his ribs had long began feeling sore after she'd hurled his body over her lap, and he feels it is not even worth it to put into words the searing anguish of whats happening to him, behind him. He feels like he's one push away from a tear falling from his eye, pride be damned. As if it was not gone long ago.
Valencina sighs under her breath and only when her hand tires does she stop. She lets go of Rien's wrists and fixes her gloves once again, taking a step back to admire her precious handiwork. He looked ruined, utterly wrecked. "Psh. Look at me." she urges, and Rien's head weakly turns towards her, his shoulders going slack. She can only chuckle before she reaches down for her sword's scabbard and slides the weapon back in its casing, before raising it up to buckle it back into her belt.
"Don't you think you're forgetting somethin?" Valencina idly taps the scabbard of the blade, her gaze fixed on The Index's Nursefather. The man turns to his front, uselessly stumbling on his leg when he attempts to do so.
"Am I?" He an hardly look at her properly, he leans his back on the desk for leverage.
"Thank me." Imvoluntarily, Valencina's fedora tipped forward and cast a faint shadow over her face. For a moment, Rien wishes to ask if she is bullshitting him, but her tone would suggest she is nothing but dead serious.
"Thank you, Miss Valencina. I promise to.. never act in such a manner again." Rien spoke begrudgingly, managing his tone to be just sincere enough for him to avoid a second session.
"Good. And you'd better hope I have no reason to come here again." Without bothering to clean up the mess she created, The Thumb's nursefather puts her hand loosely into her pockets and takes her leave - making sure to slam the door behind herself for good measure.
Rien takes exactly two half-witted steps to the left before he ends up collapsing onto a nearby couch. his body ached all over, but he still tries to look on the bright side, which is the fact he will live to see another day. even if it is with all his limbs sore. He lays on his side, letting both the blood that trickled down his chin and from his wound drip onto the cushion. He could wash it later. it's a problem he is not a good fit for fixing at the moment. He'll be okay, won't he? A few days of rest and the ache will hopefully subside. Perhaps he could ask his apprentice to buy him lotion so he could rub it on sore flesh...
His lone eye absentmindedly looks around the room, and he ends up catching a glimpse of two wide eyes staring back at him from behind a corner table. She quickly comes out of the spot, the chains that bound her wrists clinked against one another once she stood up.
"U-uh.. Mister Rien, y.. you're okay, right? T..that l..looked really p-painful." That familiar shy voice of Sora met his ears, and Rien turns his head towards her in a speed that could be considered unholy, his eye wide.
"How long have you been hiding there..?!"
-
Rien, prideful man that he is, had to bribe Sora with three pints of ice cream so she would never speak of this to anybody. Ever.