et la chat noir n'est pas un ange||o, LeFou's torture

Lefou had been knocked out during the struggle-- his body already covered in scrapes from several falls and a few scratches, and now that he was finally awake his head was pouding, his senses overwhelmed as the bulldog struggled to figure out where he was. Once his vision focused up on Vantias, the memories of what happened came flooding back. A low, disgusted growl came from his curled lip. **"Permettez-moi de vous faire du porc feat! Vous obtiendrez ce qui vous arrive!" he would not give the man the satisfaction of speaking in English, he was too angry to speak in anything other than his first language anyways. He would then attempt to spit in the man's face, as well as aim to swipe a hard paw across his face in hopes of scratching him. Probably not a smart move on his end, but if this guy planned to hurt him, he was not going down without a fight. He was pissed.

(**translation: get off me you disgusting pug, you will get whats coming to you.)

Sadly for him, Lefou had managed to accidentally burn one of his legs, which caused him to cry out in pain. What shall I do with you? "Va te faire foutre!" the canine would manage to insult through gritted teeth, tears now straining his eyes as he squirmed and kicked in pain, his breath picking up pace. Deep down, he was pretty freaked out, and he was clearly in a lot of pain. But he was going to try his absolute hardest to keep a tough demeanor. He did not want to give Vanitas the benefit of having him submit or scream in fear.

"Arrêtez!" He'd cry out even louder in pain, tears finally spilled over as he squeezed his eyes shut, the pain too unbearable for him to hold back in. Every instinct in his body caused him to attempt to kick at Vanitas as he felt his claws rake down, and squirm as much as possible-- while the pain he was experiencing would probably tire him out soon, adrenaline was coursing through his body, still desperate to keep his body going so he could escape. A sad, fruitless effort.

[font=Georgia]When Vanitas stopped his claws against his stomach, the bulldog would attempt to speak, his voice starting to falter. "Pourquoi?..." why? That's all he wanted to know, why was he doing this? He got the impression that the Exiles were pissed off with Riverclan since they successfully rescued Sekai, but why take him? He had no association with that rescue mission. Then he got the answer he was looking for. The bastard was getting some sort of sick enjoyment out of this, and somehow this did not surprise. Lefou had met more sadistic, violence loving people in his current and past life then he could count. As far as Lefou knew, his time being tortured her could very well be his final moments here. The thought was a scary one, but a small part of his mind that wanted to keep him from crying and losing his mind out of fear right now told him perhaps he'd die soon and be able to finally reunite with Gaston again, a thought he would have welcomed under any other circumstance of deadly situations. But being slowly tortured was not exactly the way he wanted to go out, for all he knew this would go on forever. This was absolute hell. These thoughts were punctuated by the feeling of teeth digging into his shoulder blades. This seemed to break his tough act finally. He was pleading like a child. "S'il vous plaît. s'il te plaît, arrête. j'ai rien fait de mal!" his voice was trembling, heavy with his own tears.

This made Lefou laugh. Albiet weakly since his body was starting to grow tired. "Oh please. Riverclan is a million times stronger than any of you guys-- you're all a bunch of try-hard cowards!" Lefou would spit in disgust at him, narrowing his pale brown eyes up at Vanitas. "I will take a thousand beatings if it means defending my clan." and he truly meant this. "Vive Riverclan!" He'd muster out as loudly as he possibly could given the pain he was experiencing. No amount of beatings would make undying love for his home waver.

As soon as he noticed Vanitas had summond a keyblade (something he had no idea about) he freaked out, because it looked seriously scary. He knew the Exiler could do serious damage with this. He would muster all the energy in his body. He needed to get out of here and fast! He would attempt to use all the strength in his body to use his back legs to try and shove him off, wanting to get Vanitas off his own body so he could run. Whether this would work or not, the blade would end up scathing his side and for blood to start pooling from his body, causing him to scream in pain, his movements becoming much more frantic and violent, trying to scratch up his chest and stomach in the struggle.

It wasn't that LeFou wanted to hurt someone, in fact he was only doing this out of self defense, but he was pretty proud of himself when he managed to make his stomach bleed. Especially given their size and strength difference. The smirk was wiped clean off his squishy face as soon as he slammed his paw down against his chest-- which easily knocked the wind out of the poor man completely. For a few moments, he found himself breathless, coughing and sputtering for breath painfully. Well that hadn't worked in his favor, had it?

LeFou was silent, glaring up at The Exiler, impatiently waiting to hear what exactly he had to say to him. Mostly because he feared if he did not he would slit his throat or something like that. And he really did not want to give Vanitas the satisfaction of killing him.

Maybe if you stopped attacking me, my body wouldn't be trying to protect itself. LeFou thought bitterly to himself, glaring up at Vanitas, but he wasn't struggling anymore. Oh good. Maybe he's finally going to let me leave. Or even better, he's going to slit my throat and let me die instead of torture me. It was high hopes he was holding. "What exactly you're going to do to make things "easier for me"? And what exactly am I cooperating in? The process of how fast I bleed out?" the canine would snarl in disgust.