[He's still smiling his cold twisted smile, that empty gash across his face that has nothing of real mirth in it, just something he does with his mouth. There's the eerie red flash of his eyes as he looks at her now. Shrugs.]
I don't sleep at night, Ms King.
[Which is a half-truth-- he sleeps a little, sometimes, less than most, the need for it not quite there in him thanks to what he is. And besides, when he does, his dreams are whiteredblack, blood-stained, full of screaming. Nothing he wants or would ever admit to. But it's hardly relevant here. He watches her finish her beer with a detached kind of interest, wonders what it might be like to hurt her, to be hurt by her.
Fun, he thinks. An interesting game.
But he's behaving, for now at least, will continue to do so up until the moment that the thrum and press of violence spills out of the minds of those around them and into the world at large. Until then--]
And I doubt that. I never regret a good fight. Go hard or go home, hahah. But alas, it doesn't look like we'll have a chance to play this evening, you and I.
no subject
I don't sleep at night, Ms King.
[Which is a half-truth-- he sleeps a little, sometimes, less than most, the need for it not quite there in him thanks to what he is. And besides, when he does, his dreams are whiteredblack, blood-stained, full of screaming. Nothing he wants or would ever admit to. But it's hardly relevant here. He watches her finish her beer with a detached kind of interest, wonders what it might be like to hurt her, to be hurt by her.
Fun, he thinks. An interesting game.
But he's behaving, for now at least, will continue to do so up until the moment that the thrum and press of violence spills out of the minds of those around them and into the world at large. Until then--]
And I doubt that. I never regret a good fight. Go hard or go home, hahah. But alas, it doesn't look like we'll have a chance to play this evening, you and I.