[Unlike the last time he'd uttered the word, it's poisonous now. He doesn't attack - he knows that won't work - but he does talk. The Doctor got his piece, now Dist gets his.]
You don't know me. You don't know what I've been through, what I've done. I've fought and killed and died for what I wanted, or at least I tried to. That had been the plan, you see. When you face despair and overheat your own robot before being launched into the ocean, that tends to be the expectation, but I lived through it all. And because I lived, I had one last chance. One last chance to send my world into utter chaos and destruction for a fleeting chance at that one final sliver of hope.
That sliver shot me in the face, figuratively and literally. And when they found me, or more accurately I found them, they didn't kill me like they had my compatriots. No, they locked me away, leaving me with my dreams, my plans, and my intellect but sealed away where I'd never see the light of day again. In some ways it was worse torture than the kind you could inflict on me.
There are people here with more power than me. After all these years, it's impossible to deny that. But don't you dare, for one goddamn second, tell me that I have no ambition, will, or power of my own. I would sink this world into fucking nothing if I had the chance. The reason I wasn't loyal to you is because there are a few others I would save before I did it, but the group of scum you'd assembled might have helped give me the chance. As I said, you're a powerful group, but you don't give a shit about me, so why should I extend the same courtesy?
[His voice has become savage, like he's spitting every word that comes from his mouth. He hadn't felt rage like this in a long time, not true rage, as opposed to the tantrums he was generally associated with. He hadn't been compelled to bare his teeth, to hiss instead of screaming. No, Dist is too angry for that. There's no need to put on a show.]
You no longer have anything to give me. You've exposed me as a spy, and so I don't have to pretend that I won't utterly destroy you, even if you enslave me now. Klaus freed me once, and others will do so again. That's what I have that you don't. You just openly admitted to me that everyone in your organization is a goddamn turncoat, and you know it. You never wanted me to exercise my genius, and a liar can't help but surround himself with liars.
I have no respect for liars. I keep my promises, and I made a promise to burn the lot of you to the ground. Like everyone else, you underestimate me. You don't take me seriously as a threat until it's too late.
no subject
[Unlike the last time he'd uttered the word, it's poisonous now. He doesn't attack - he knows that won't work - but he does talk. The Doctor got his piece, now Dist gets his.]
You don't know me. You don't know what I've been through, what I've done. I've fought and killed and died for what I wanted, or at least I tried to. That had been the plan, you see. When you face despair and overheat your own robot before being launched into the ocean, that tends to be the expectation, but I lived through it all. And because I lived, I had one last chance. One last chance to send my world into utter chaos and destruction for a fleeting chance at that one final sliver of hope.
That sliver shot me in the face, figuratively and literally. And when they found me, or more accurately I found them, they didn't kill me like they had my compatriots. No, they locked me away, leaving me with my dreams, my plans, and my intellect but sealed away where I'd never see the light of day again. In some ways it was worse torture than the kind you could inflict on me.
There are people here with more power than me. After all these years, it's impossible to deny that. But don't you dare, for one goddamn second, tell me that I have no ambition, will, or power of my own. I would sink this world into fucking nothing if I had the chance. The reason I wasn't loyal to you is because there are a few others I would save before I did it, but the group of scum you'd assembled might have helped give me the chance. As I said, you're a powerful group, but you don't give a shit about me, so why should I extend the same courtesy?
[His voice has become savage, like he's spitting every word that comes from his mouth. He hadn't felt rage like this in a long time, not true rage, as opposed to the tantrums he was generally associated with. He hadn't been compelled to bare his teeth, to hiss instead of screaming. No, Dist is too angry for that. There's no need to put on a show.]
You no longer have anything to give me. You've exposed me as a spy, and so I don't have to pretend that I won't utterly destroy you, even if you enslave me now. Klaus freed me once, and others will do so again. That's what I have that you don't. You just openly admitted to me that everyone in your organization is a goddamn turncoat, and you know it. You never wanted me to exercise my genius, and a liar can't help but surround himself with liars.
I have no respect for liars. I keep my promises, and I made a promise to burn the lot of you to the ground. Like everyone else, you underestimate me. You don't take me seriously as a threat until it's too late.
Be grateful for this warning.