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His skin itches, days like this. Not the itch of dry, dead skin that a shed brings, these days instead brought an angry, impossible to ignore feeling inside his skin. It felt like insects, the same things he used to pour over for hours as he fed each of his specimens. His scales would feel off too. Wiggling, like a loose tooth that one continues to poke at. Like his scales could pull loose at any moment and he would see the soft skin underneath, warm and human.
But he knows this can’t happen. He knows that the college name tag, leftover from his time as a professor, refers to a different Luchino Diruse. A calm man half his height, not the abomination he now sees before him. That Luchino Diruse was bitten by that god-awful lizard, cursing him. The sensations feel fresh, those of the spines piercing through his skin from beneath, his bones twisting painfully as they changed, the feeling of them braking, healing, and breaking again had been unbearable. But when it finally ceased, he had shed his human skin, cured to be- to be this. He knows that it was fate, not luck, that brought him into the Baron's life.
Most of the time, living at the manor was nice. Everyone who resided in the manor welcomed him, after the initial period of fear and loathing had passed. The culture of the manor was kind, despite their circumstances. Nobody enjoyed being trapped in the games, but they were all trapped together. Might as well play nice, especially when all their needs were met? They all had beds to sleep in and bountiful food. The Baron provided for them all, as long as they continued to play his little game.
So Luchino was comfortable, at most times. The room was perfect. But on this day, the anniversary of his arrival, the elegant gold mirror that had been hung in his quarters felt less like a gift, and more of a cruel reminder.
His tail swishes behind him, angrily. Another awful reminder. Quickly he draws his arm back and launches himself at the wall, colliding with the glass and sending shards everywhere. He feels some wedge between his scales and cut into his skin beneath him but he doesn’t care, Luchino hates what he sees, a disgusting twisted creature, an abomination. The mirror frame clatters off the wall and onto the ground, loose shards twisting loose. Luchino falls to the floor with it, raising his fists in the air and bringing them down on the now almost bare backboard. He crushes the elegant frame beneath his blows and again it’s another reminder of his monstrosity. What is he doing, throwing a tantrum? Luchino Diruse, scholar and human, would never have done this. But Luchino Diruse isn’t here right now, it’s just him. Just the ‘Evil Reptilian’. So angry he can feel tears in his eyes, he continues to wail his hands into the floor, mirror destroyed but not forgotten.
Eventually, his blows slow, weakened by his meltdown, Luchino lies on the carpet, exhausted. The glass digs into his skin, and he winces with each movement. His hands are bloody and he makes a mental note to clean them of glass when he can rise again. Opening and closing his fists a few times, he hisses through his teeth at the pain, reaching for a nearby shirt and using it to dab away the blood. There’s surprisingly little glass actually embedded within his skin, and he uses his talons to remove the larger chunks. He probably has tweezers around somewhere. Slowly, Luchino stands up, walking around the glass pile as he makes his way to the attached bathroom. Inside, there’s a first aid kit, one that the Doctor on the survivor’s side had insisted was put in each room. There are tweezers, so he spends time inspecting each wound on his boxy for shards of glass. He cleans up after himself with iodine, applying it to the cuts with a cotton ball. It stings, but Luchino doesn’t need to deal with an infection on top of everything else. His clothing caught most of the glass on his body so he carefully removes those and tosses them in the shower. He’ll take care of them later. Inspecting himself for any more glass, he wraps his larger cute with gauze and settles down in his bed. He has to clean, and he’ll have matches in the morning, but for now, Luchino sleeps. And in his dreams, he’s himself again.