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Aaand Attila's back to normal. :x Not a sign to end the thread, unless there's no other way.
He admitted to already "dirtying" his hands, scratching irritably at his wrists with a fascinating ferocity. The younger Aston watched with curious eyes and silent words; what had Claudius done? Knowing his brother's immature, surely he had only strangled a rabbit or accidentally pushed someone or something feebly similar. It took every effort not to scoff and mock him at the thought, though the distressed rubbing and scratching of his brother pulled him away from the thoughts. Attila didn't want to question the fact, but he knew the behavior was unnatural even for someone like Claudius, and enough became enough. Why do you keep doing that? he said finally, vaguely motioning with a flick of the head at his brother's odd movements, a slight hiss in his tone hinting at the beginnings of annoyance.
However, the irritation in that tone became nothing compared to the fury that rose quickly in his eyes as his brother continued, speaking with the backbone he had definitely developed since the last time they'd met. His lips thinned and twitched, aggravation forming wrinkles in his otherwise handsome features. Attila thought to simply leave, to say nothing and accept Claudius's words as truth, but he could not. Noir's death might have shifted something within him, but the shift was slight. The brother Claudius knew still lurked within.
Who's the older brother here, Claudius? he said, words forming in a restrained snarl. He stepped in close, moving in and towering over his "older" brother with a high head and square shoulders, scarlet burning within the frosted ice of his eyes. You think you can do a better job than me at protecting yourself? You, who can't even form a sentence without sounding like you're about to piss yourself? I offered my help as the competent one between the two of us. You don't want it? Fine.
He turned suddenly, shadows in his face and toned frame moving with intent to depart. Good luck, 'big' brother.