thatwasteofmotherslove:

Jack had been speaking with one of his whores, when he caught a glimpse of him. Eyes darkening with cruel desires; a hunter finding it’s prized prey. The doctor finally leaving the comfort and safety of his domain. Licking his lips at the sight of him in that suit jacket. It’s been far too long since their last meeting, something which the pimp certainly needed to fix.

Wasting no time in fear of losing the handsome bastard. He left the whore with little fuss and hide within the crowd, his always recognizable form now well hidden from the the doctor’s famous piercing gaze. A lion in the tall grass stalking the blissfully unaware buck, simply awaiting the proper moment to pounce. Slinking into a dark alleyway as his prize’s eyes shifted downward for but a moment. A sick smile crossed his features, poor thing hadn’t a clue he gave him the perfect opportunity to strike. Now simply awaited patiently for him to pass, the tension building with every step. The shadows became his allay, though the now loss of sight making his heart race. Only being able to judge his timing with the click of his shoes became it’s loudest. Extending his cane to wrap it’s self around the other’s waist and swiftly pulled him into the alleyway.

His gloved palm placed upon Angus’ mouth to quiet any screams. The circling police didn’t need to be alerted of their little get together. It would be such a shame for it to be spoiled. “Been awhile, ‘asn’t it doctor?” He purred into the man’s ear.

He knew there was a reason for him not to go out, and here it was. He was yanked and pulled into the darkness without anyone noticing. Oh, how society was just a mockery on humanity, no one really cared as long as their own skin was safe.

Angus felt the hand press against his mouth, and eyes from behind lenses shot over to stare at his assailant. He should have known, especially with that slur of a voice. Though, it seemed as if the man didn’t think this fully, for both of his hands were placed in two separate spots, and not holding him down very roughly. Splatter probably could have felt his lips tighten into a grimace, only to have the point of a cane jab roughly to his abdomen.

His head jerked away from his hand, making some sort of foul expression. 

“Yes, it has, Splatter… Though, contacting me by more civil means would have been appreciated, instead of pulling me into some filthy alley way.”

Well, of course, he was angry; it was clear in the creases of his face, and the furrow of his brows. More for reasons of unneeded force, and less civility.

“Now what, I suppose you’re going to ‘gut’ me, as you would say? Take my money, or whatever it is I have on my persons? Or is there another reason why you drug me here…”

(Source: memoriesacurse)

He dusts himself off, and places a top hat so languidly onto the top of his head. His hands reach up and tug gently at the lapels of his suit coat to fix them, then slides down to brush any dust free from his chest. A hand gripped to a cane, causing it to shift only slightly.

There was that sly sneer set to his lips as he looked about the sidewalk, eyes scanning the bodies that carried themselves so lively. He closed them for a split second, only to walk out with the mass that traveled toward him. The notorious doctor blended almost effortlessly, but there were a few looks here and there. People still knew him, nor did they ever say anything. He didn’t seem to care anyway if they had something to say or not.

A small glint from his glasses appeared as he looked up, only to look forward again.

“I am a Doctor, what other service than curing am I to do?”, he lifted a brow.

“Well, I would not know… I am not the negative type, I do what I need, to keep my place on the top of the ladder in this place. I help, I provide a service… Now, is there any other particular reason you have approached me?”

thesonofruin:

Lucian held in his breath as the feeling in his hand went away, only to be replaced with a searing pain. He let out a grunt, and his cheek seemed to have came into contact with the sidewalk below. His eyes gazed around quickly, no one was around, and his brows furrowed. He looked up to him and clenched his teeth, his words dripping with acid as he hissed through them.

“Vile…. Pathetic… I hate you… I hate you. I hate you!”

A snake-like smile crept to his expression, and he lifted a foot to press itself to the side of Lucian’s head. Almost as if he were going to squish it like a puny insect. “What was that? I’m afraid I can’t quite understand you, I’m too busy plotting you and that girl’s death,” he removed his foot, only to give a good kick to the boy’s spine. “You can live… For now… But let me catch you in my sight again, and the police will be dragging another body to the morgue…” Angus sneered, and turned sharply on his heel before walking away as if the whole encounter never happened.

“I’m afraid I do not know who that is, and I don’t certainly use the method of chemicals to treat my patients, or make them relive their fears,” he lifts a brow, and looked up to him. “I certainly do not walk about with burlap sacks on my head, or anything of the sort. I am a Doctor, and well-mannered psychiatrist, and with that, I do my services to help those who need it.”

“I haven’t the slightest idea of who you speak of, and I don’t seem to understand the point you are trying to make… I am a respectable, and reliable member of this society… A man with a status like mine, no one would believe that…”

“….I see.”

He shifts slowly to the other leg, and cocks his head slightly. “And why is this so interesting, if I may ask?”, he lifts a brow, keeping his lips flat.

The man stares almost uninterested over the rims of his glasses, only to let out a slight sigh before crossing his arms. “Dr. Angus Bumby,” he said, a slightly negative undertone to it. “…And, who are you?”