Dualscar was sleeping when Pietro stepped into his room. The place was still an outrageous shade of yellow, but the seadweller had tried to cover the worst of it, shoving as many objects up against the wall, or scattered over the floor, as possible. He slept with the blankets twisted over his head, a leg and arm sticking out at odd angles.

Pietro grinned flicking on the small object in his hand and making it buzz. “Good morning fuckfathe.”

“Sgnhuh? Wh-” The seadweller yelped as blue and red energy grabbed him by the ankle and dragged him from the bed. His jaw cracked against the floor, making light dance across his vision. He tried to jump to his feet, only to find his knees stuck together and held to the ground by psionics.

“Hehehe look at you, flopping about like a fith.”

“PIETRO YOU SACK OF SHIT WWHAT THE FUCK YOU Y'THINK YOU'RE DOIN?!” Dualscar demanded, attempting to twist around and catch sight of the yellowblood. Additional sparks of power gripped him by the wrists and chest, mashing his face into the floor with his rump still sticking out into the air.

“Tthhhhh” Pietro shooshed through his lisp, “Hold thill, I have a little thurprithe for you~ Hehehe”

A surprise is never something you want to hear about getting from a kismesis. Especially not while being forced into such an undignified posture. Snarling, Dualscar bucked and twisted, muscles rippling along his back as he tried to free himself from the psychic restraints. “Pietro, I wwill fuckin tear that smug grin right off y'face!” It didn't matter that he couldn't see it, he knew it was there.

“I goddamn mean it!” He added forcefully, feeling a hand grab at his ass to hold him in place. This was bad. Really really bad. It was just worse as he felt the other hand stroke at him, running the tip of his claws along Orion's side and legs. He was being toyed with.

“You look good like thith.” Pietro sniggered, “Maybe when I'm done I'll have thome fun with you. But Firth~!”

He barely had time to register the buzzing sound before there was a sharp pain in his rump, dragging a startled cry from the seadweller. “WH-AAA WHAT THE FUCKIN HELL” He thrashed about, but under Pietro's firm hold was unable to move. “Wha-is that a fuckin tattoo gun?!?!”

The giggle he got in reply, coupled with the continuing jabbing sensation sent a shiver of white-hot rage through Dualscar. “Y'BASTARD! Y'LUSUS FUCKIN ASSHOLE!!! LET GO OF ME RIGHT THE FUCK NOW!!” He clawed at the ground, face turning purple with rage. From pietro's vantage behind him, he could see the seadweller's fins fanning out, a sure sign of just how upset he was.

By the time the yellowblood was done, the seadweller had gone through several phases of rage- first, the demands, then the creative insults, and now he was incomprehensibly mad, having given up the use of language for wordless sounds of pure hatred. His entire body was tense, trembling with repressed violence. He slowly kneaded his claws against the floor, murder on his mind.