Bored. Very, very bored Lustren was, and it was beginning to grate on his delicate nerves. He looked up suddenly—it would have been randomly if not for the deliberate and calculating smile that came upon his face with the movement.
"Let's play a game."
Gabriel paused and lifted the pen from his paper, an unnoticeable grimace sneaking its way over his lips and eyes. That tone and that look, separately, never brought anything less than trouble, and when coupled with those vague words… Gabriel knew that someone would suffer. He could only hope that it would be over quickly for whoever was the unfortunate victim.
"A game…?" he repeated as though the words were foreign and frightening. "Alright." But he knew from the tone of Lustren's voice that there was really no question, nothing to agree to. When Lustren said 'let's play a game,' a game would be played.
Hesitation was especially obvious when it came from Lustren's servant, and knowing the dark lord himself, that hesitation was justified. Fear was also obvious, and that detection never failed to bring a smirk to Lustren's young face. Flipping the rebelling strands of silvery hair from his yellow eyes, he pulled a revolver from the cushions of the couch and admired it in the candlelight. Almost thoughtlessly, he began to stroke the barrel and spin the chamber.
"Are you feeling lucky, Gabriel?" he asked, as though asking about something as petty as the weather.
"How about a game of Russian Roulette?" Lustren lifted the gun, held it delicately between two fingers, and held it out toward the other man. "You first."
Gabriel took the gun obediently and spun the chamber once, twice, three times—hoping to get lucky. As satisfied as he would ever be, Gabriel took a deep breath and brought the cool metal to his temple, closing his eyes. He pulled the trigger.
Lustren smiled with a grim sort of satisfaction as blood and other crimson debris he dared not name splattered across stacked documents and dusty books. He loosened the grip of a cool hand around even colder metal.
Leaning back, Lustren tapped the handle of the gun twice on the arm of his couch.
"My turn," he murmured in his quiet, chiming voice. He brought the weapon to his own head and laughed as he pulled the trigger. There were no blanks.