A Nightmare that goes on [closed/Milo]

The boy pulled back the gloved hand, rubbing it a look of seriousness written on his face. The boy pointedly taunted him about he had just noticed, something that was rather bothersome. Was he caught up too much with himself to even notice the protege?

He felt a slight frustration and anger toward the recent circumstances these past few days from the last Emilio's dream toward the little mission assigned to him. Most of the anger was pointed toward Milo, how much he rather disliked the guy. Getting on the good side of her, and rather taking off with his job. Just, it tied back it to her fault of all this that had even started. He was absolutely perfectly fine without her, just, he couldn't find himself to completely blame her. It was rather his fault for foolishly letting his anger get the best of him, to let this sort of thing easily pass by him.

While stuck in his own contemplating mind, the boy had taken advantage to ask him to show his own, as a "trade". Instantly at the mention of the brand on his hand, he shoved the hand into his pockets hiding it, a rather disagreeing look on his face. That's none of your concern." It was pretty obvious from his look, whatever was on his hand, he rather keep a secret... Especially from the boy.

This had gone for far too long, he was the Master here, not some "friend" or "family" or just whatever. With a quick murderous flash in his eyes, he spoke threateningly soft commanding tone. "Show it to me." After less than ten seconds it seemed his long patient self was rather short this dream. "NOW" He hissed the shout, pretty obvious he was too cowardly to force the boy's hand.

There was really no hiding it, he feared greatly what it was, and didn't want to willingly make it easy on himself. A part was unsure what he would even do, if what he had feared already happened. All he knew was the mix feelings swirling in his gut toward the whole ordeal. If the boy already worked for her, it was pretty easy from here. Yet same time the boy was his prey, no one else's, how dare she pull something like this. He just wanted to protect the pathetic boy from the path of servitude. This was absolutely ridicules! Why should he even care for the boy's well being, let her have him, didn't matter. She was the world, a life force, greatest of all things.

 If the boy actually... had it... That meant he already knew about her, and was already working for her. Just, was that what he really wanted? He rather keep her secret from the boy as much as possible, even as a heartless, yet... She always had her own game, was there even a point to follow his pathetic imaginary fantasies? She already owned his liberty, permanently, why not the boy too? Why bother hiding? It was bound to happen, she was to be Queen in the end.

The dream beginning to morph to a darker and darker world, while still keeping the grass field, the cake and trees were long gone. The stars still shined brightly, but there was now a creepy red moon shining above, almost as if the dream was getting influenced by Nagi's emotions.

The boy had hid his hand, was absolutely refusing to show what was underneath the glove. Why the boy moved closer, an cool controlled gaze, the sort that reminded he was the one losing control. It particularly bugged him how he was the one at the disadvantage here, refusing to take action, secretly not wanting to see if what he feared was true. There's Suspecting. Then there's Knowing. Suspecting was safer than knowing, knowing could get one shattered destroyed. Think of a lover who believes her husband cheating on her, then only to see it with her own eyes.

What made matters worst was how the boy was getting the taunts in! The worst of the worst, the boy called him Grandpa, almost reinforcing his fear of getting "too old" for Lilith. How much did the boy even know about the two, what exactly did she tell him? What was this? Some sort of test, they were always test givers. It only rubbed in the hurt wound that the boy was acting as if his little glove meant absolutely nothing. If it was that thing, it was everything, changed everything! Oh how he wanted to hurt the boy so much!

His gaze grew as sharp as it possibly could go, growing as red and cold as it could, his mouth sharp as a blade. "Take it back! Boy!" The shadows began growing around him as he called on their power. It was pretty obviously he had rather planned to attack, and no longer cared to play the little coward who only uses words versus actions. Again he spoke commandingly, "Show me your Hand!"

As the boy began to speak, claiming that he would show... Only if Nagi was to calm down, sounded like a deal the master could agree to. The air around the dream seemed to suddenly change to normal, even the cake had returned though the box itself was gone.

Nagi gave a slight nod, understanding it was his own wrong doing for losing it over just assumptions. What was the saying? Don't make an donkey out of me and you... no that didn't sound right, what did a donkey have to do things?

As a bonus he had noticed the boy mentioned the word damaged... Did he meant as in damage goods, why would a damage goods be owned by her? Unless it was the damaged sense of freedom, the twisted version. No that was too complex for the boy to say out-loud or think in order fashioned, it had to be actual simple damage. So what the glove was for was to protect real damage.

Taking a deep breath, he walked calmly back to the boy, "I'd rather not, so mind showing it now?" He held out his hand, though there was a softer touch to it than before, almost a calmness after the storm.

As the boy began unraveling the glove, instant relief seemed to fill into Nagi's face, though still a tad-bit of stress. He looked it over few more times ignoring the boy's ridicules comments, though a word particularly caught his attention, son...

He looked up from his contemplating a mixture of curiosity, annoyance, and finally understanding. Without missing a step, he spoke with a slight blank voice, "Do you have trouble fighting?" If the boy couldn't fight, then there was no real worry about her getting a hold of the boy. Now that also meant all the training went to waste, and he was a useless keyblader.

Whatever the darkside had done, it seemed quite messy, really messy. He rather disliked how uncontrollable and messy the darkside was, it was just a messy situation. Yes, it had the air of excitement and chaos, but it lost the artform. It was probably just his old age speaking, how irritating experience and the world of light was.

He gave another deep sigh before turning around and heading toward the cake sitting at the table. Two plates suddenly appeared, as well as a knife and two forks. He began cutting the cake with the unbranded hand, still stubbornly hiding the hand with the brand in the pocket. With both pieces cut, they magically floated and landed on the plates.

The boy was making it loud and clear that he would push through this and not loose his usefulness, well wasn't that just perfect? That just meant that he had to turn the boy, why couldn't the boy go retire at his cottage or something? Grow old, and DIE, like those other pitiful mortal. Yet, same time, oh how cheerful it was...

Why if the boy lost the ability to fight, what use did he truly have? He couldn't just let the boy walk out with the knowledge he have, might even tutor other keybladers, why he would never hear the end of it. There might a fang, or even two attacking deeply into his skin when all said and done if the boy lost his ability to fight. How infuriating the whole ordeal was though, made him just want to smash the cake, throw the cake, just leave the dream.

Still holding that same calm blank face, fighting any urges or afflicted feelings show, "Oh? Not Useless? Well isn't that nice, for you." He bothered not diving deeper into the details of what happened, he really didn't want to know, or really just didn't care anymore about it. Either way, it was obvious he wanted little to no conversation about the hand, now he knew what it was not.

The boy made his way to table staring at the cake with those ridicules sad eyes. Well, it was bound to happen, the boy surely began piecing it together long ago. It wasn't like this was all news to the boy, the shadow rather disliked that look, rather just leave and come another day. Calmly and slowly, as if savoring every bite of the fake cake, Nagi continued on eating making no replies toward the boy's words.

The boy continued on talking, Nagi still hid any sort of major emotional expression on his face, a rarity. This sort of thing only seemed to happen if the man was closed off, and saw absolutely no point of holding a normal emotional conversation. However the expression grew sharp when the boy reached out to touch the man's hand.

With a brighter yellow eyes, Nagi flicked his gaze cooly over at the boy. Then placing the fork down he turned to the boy, voice deathly sharp, "If this is your plan to draw out information, you are wasting your time. Now eat your piece of cake, it might be your last" After he spoke the words, his sharpen face dropped to that blank face once more, as he continued eating the piece of cake he had. He had absolutely no plans to spill absolutely anything the boy, funny considering how much he was willing to spill to other keybladers. Almost as if he mocked the boy's talents, probably infuriating to Lio if he knew... What that other boy knew.