Well, the woman had refused his irrefusable request. Not only that, but she'd shot him full of something that was making him incredibly tired. Locas was shocked; that trick normally worked. It mattered not now, as he'd soon be asleep, a state he didn't wish to be in.
Turning to Alaira, who had decided to take a cot for herself, he figured that irrefusable offers were probably going to be his best bets today.
"Alaira," he began, noting the difficulty it took to say merely one word, "We didn't get off on the right foot." The elf gave him a look that seemed to convey, "You just figured that out, dumbass?"
"Look, I know I used a terrible pickup line, and I figured it would make you angry. I completely understand that you're pissed at me. So, right now, I'm going to try to compensate. What Blood runs through your veins?"
"...Electromancy," she responded after a long pause, hate plainly obvious in her voice.
Locas's face lit up, or did the closest thing to lighting up that he could in his drowsy state. A better answer could not be devised. What he had planned...it could be said that a reasonable amount of pain would be needed, an amount he was sure that someone like Alaira would be happy to provide him, given her current anger towards him
"I propose this," the human said, smiling. "I would very much prefer that I didn't fall asleep. I'm prone to nightmares, full of things I'd much rather not drudge up at this point in time. Therefore, given your proficiency with electrical currents, I ask that you give me a shock of electricity whenever I begin to drift off. Feel free to decide the amount of pain you think is...necessary." He placed emphasis on the last word, in a roundabout way of saying that she could torture him without flat-out implying that she would want to. "What do you say?"
The girl seemed to be giving it fair consideration, so Locas continued.
"Of course, I would ask for something in return. Mere conversation would be more than enough. I simply wish to have something to occupy me while the medicine wears off." At this, Alaria seemed to get a little less curious, but Locas hoped she would still consider it fairly, as he was already feeling himself drift off.
Alaira smirked a little when the man seemed to realize his little trick didn't work. Dumbass, you couldn't use words on Lucilia, she's a gods-damn master. She had felt a sense of dread the moment he turned to her, which meant talking would be involved. He apologized again, but said apology implied she was offended by the quality of it rather than the line itself. "If you knew it'd piss me off, why'd you say it?" She asked, and by the tone of her voice she was likely struggling to keep her self from just murdering him on the spot.
He'd asked what her Mageblood was, and she raised an eyebrow. But she decided to just tell him, asking why would likely produce more bullshit. He seemed to be happy about that... for some reason, and she regretted telling him immediately. He told her to, basically, shock him a few times so he doesn't go to sleep, because nightmares. W-what? Did this guy have any idea how magic works? She couldn't just shock him over and over, she could do it maybe... three times, before she passed out? Even so, it wasn't easy to perform. And then he's acting like he's doing her a favor, and he wants more things?!
Alaira looked about ready to explode, but stopped suddenly, as realization dawned. Why should she do what he says? She thought as an evil smirk played across her face. Zapping him would likely be directly disobeying Lucilia, and all she had to do was let him fall asleep. Then, he'd shut te hell up, AND be suffering. Se liked this idea. "I don't know, the idea of you suffering and being quiet with no effort on my part is awfully tempting..." she said, gazing off into the corner in what could be assumed was deep thought.
Locas rolled his eyes as the elf stared into a corner of the room. He knew it was meant to show introspection, but if she thought that he wouldn't see through that, he was giving her too much credit. Or maybe he'd been right the first time, and she was just kind of arrogant. Still, she was fooling no one.
"I was held hostage six years ago." He could see that he'd gotten her attention a small amount. Suddenly, though, he was falling asleep. He reached out to Alaira for a shock, hoping for something to keep him up.
As much as she liked to pretend, Alaira wasn't actually that cruel. So, when he reached out, she sighed, and gave him what he wanted. She hopped off of her cot, and walked over to him. She grabbed him by both sides of the head, and delivered a shock right into his skull. Partly because she wanted it to really hurt, and partly because it wouldn't take as much power. Wordlessly, she returned to her cot, and stared. "You do realize I can do that two, maybe three more times, right?" She said, trying to tell him of the futility of this nonsense.
Jolting awake, it took Locas a few moments to remember why he'd just been shocked. He smiled at Alaira, happy. "Thanks," he said. It was good to know that she had a good conscience. At her mention that she wouldn't be able to shock him more than three times after that, he scoffed.
"You're a strong one, Alaira," he said seriously. "You have more power than you'd think, you just let the teachers tell you that it's normal to only do so much. You're only limited by your mind when it comes to magic power. You might die if you go too far, sure, but you can use all of it up until that point. Now," he said, clasping his hands together. "Where were we? Oh yes, my captivity."
"It was actually ten years ago. I spent four in captivity, held for ransom. Made a few friends, and we ultimately escaped together. Had to 'weasel' my way out of things to help everyone escape. It's a method of survival, and a hard habit to break. I can't really control my more...manipulative outbursts." The way Locas said it, it was hard not to pity him, but he just felt pathetic about it.
"I was in love with a girl named Avi..." His voice began to falter, but he had to keep going. He had to make sure that she knew why he was putting her through this. "She...She was a lot like you. She was sarcastic, strategic, and kind. Sure, she had blonde hair, but her eyes were exactly the same as yours... Anyway, she led our group of escaped hostages.
"Then, one day...the three remaining captors snuck into camp. I was in the tent with Avi, talking about how great a leader she was, and about how she didn't need to doubt herself..." Locas felt tears pushing at his eyes at this point, and, despite how much he tried to hide it, that sadness was present in his voice.
"The quarrel...I didn't even hear it. One moment she was smiling, and the next there was a shaft sticking out from her stomach. I dropped to the ground...I knew they had seen her by her shadow against the tent...so I crawled over to the tent flap and waited...
"Long story short, I killed all of them. It was the angriest I'd ever been...I moved faster than they could have seen... It was short work. But...still, when I got back over to check on Avi...she'd been dead since the bolt hit her."
He was blatantly crying now, the shaking and the tears slurring his speech.
"I went out... I went out into...the main...the main part of the camp... They'd SLAUGHTERED everyone." Locas took a few seconds to let his anger and sadness out, sobbing. "There...there were...body parts...arms, legs...HEADS... They were everywhere... Some had even been placed on the torsos...of their best friends..."
For a solid thirty seconds he sobbed, not daring to look up, not daring to see those eyes... Locas would break if he did. He'd find something in the room and end it, then and there, and he couldn't let all the progress he'd tried to make be in vain. So he sobbed, head in hands, not even remembering how bad the electrical shock had hurt in regards to this.
When he recovered, he knew he had to finish.
"When I say," he started, voice still wavering. "That I'm prone to nightmares... That's what I dream about. It's not every hundred dreams, nor is it every twenty, ten, or two. Every single time I fall asleep I dream of that day...and I can't wake up until it's over."
He sighed, finished now, but still he dared not look into Alaira's eyes.
Alaira scoffed right back when the man went on a tangent about magic power. "I'm pretty sure I know my own damn limits. I just tested them twenty minutes ago for Leehna's sake." She said. When she said she couldn't cast a billion spells, she meant it. Still, she listened to his story.
His sad little story did nothing to ease her fury, but she kept quiet. What did this have to do with her? She could be playing with Lyn, but she had to listen to this guy instead. "So, you just gonna spend the rest of your life feeling sorry for yourself, or what," Alaira asked. She'd been through worse. Sure the memory was fuzzy at best but whenever she did remember... anyway, the point was that this crap could be beaten. "You wanna know what happened to me? I'll skip to the end, you don't. You can't just cry about it, it's already done." While harsh, there was a certain truth to her words. Mostly she just regretted leaving Lyn, though.
Locas couldn't believe what he was hearing. He knew he had an issue with feeling for others, but he also knew suffering wasn't a competition. And who the hell did Alaira think she was, telling him to just forget about it? Did it not occur to her that he'd tried that already? He literally could never forget about what happened that day.
It was time to let her know that he wasn't someone that you could just provoke and be annoyed with. He wasn't a wasp without a stinger.
He stood up.
"Stood" is an unfair verb to use. He certainly half-stood, on his one good leg, but he had to prop the other one up by using his aeromancy. And so he "stood", angry, looking at Alaira, no longer afraid of her eyes.
A draft was felt in the room, building gradually.
"You know why I cry about it," he asked, in his normal neutral tone. "I cry about it because, if I don't, I snap. And when I snap, I do this."
At that, Locas shot forward, injured arm now completely weightless. His right fist connected with the forest elf's lower chest, and he felt a rib or two break. He picked her up and flung her away from the cot she'd been on, into the center of the room. It took him a moment to realize his feet weren't touching the ground, and he gradually lowered himself onto the floor.
"This is what happens when I don't give two shits about what happens to someone," he explained coolly. "If you want to keep all your limbs, you make sure you never reach that status."
Alaira was stunned. He'd hit her. Just... out of nowhere! Alright, this shit had gone on far too long. Pulling herself out of the mass of cots she had been launched into (luckily, they were unoccupied), she stood up and dusted herself off. She looked the guy over, clearly he was far too angry for his own damn good. Now, contrary to popular belief, Alaira had amazing control of her anger; it's what made her rage a potent weapon rather than a liability. But this guy? He was careless, stupid. Clearly he couldn't really control himself. He didn't really seem to give two shits about valid targets.
Now, he needed to be stopped. There were many people all throughout the place all in various states of health, and if he continued his little magic tantrum some of them may die. And the fact that she had almost been blasted into the area that held Lyn and Mar...
Alaira was sick of this bullshit, so very tired of it. Without a word, she marched right up to him. She stood there for a moment, glaring at him. She raised her arm up, and slapped him in the face. It wouldn't deal damage, sure. But it might at least get him to calm the fuck down. "Get a hold of yourself." She more or less growled at him. She grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, and pulled him closer. "I've seen enough violence today, I don't need anyone making this worse, so sit down, shut up, and I'll pretend this never happened, clear?" With that, she forcibly sat him down on his own cot, finding it easier than she'd first expected, and returned to the pile. She then picked up one of the other cots, put it back up, and sat on it, watching to see if the bastard would try any more bullshit.
Having been sat down, his anger subdued, Locas was...absent. What had he just done? He should have dragged her out into the halls or something before he decided that all bets were off. He could have actually killed someone, and probably would have killed himself if he'd kept it up for much longer. It was obvious that something had to be done.
As he was contemplating this, the adrenaline began to fade, and he instantly felt the pain in his arm and torso. He underwent a spasm lasting four seconds, trying to get himself in a better position on the cot all the while. Finally, the human student collapsed onto his cot, gasping for breath.
Raising his left arm to his nose, he gave a quick yank, breaking it instantly. He then proceeded to dislocate his shoulder, trying to compensate for the broken ribs he'd given another living being. Then, painfully, he turned on his side to face Alaira, eyes half full of terror and half full of sadness.
As he started to speak, he felt the sedative kick in again.
"I...I don't deserve to stay awake. If I scream, stuff my mouth." His words were no longer neutral. They had a sad, defeated tone to them. "I don't wish to disturb the other patients any more than I already had. And Alaira," he asked, softly. "Will you do your best not to utterly hate me?"
Locas Jule then proceeded to black out.