[He only smiles his slick, sliding smile in reference to the bandages, says nothing. If she doesn't know the particular specifications he'd been created to, he sees no reason to enlighten her. Perhaps she'll find out one of these days, but he suspects it's unlikely to be today. The bar around them, it's still thrumming with unreleased tension, but the likelihood of things reaching the kind of crescendo that would require his particular services seems - alas and alack - a distant thing.
Instead he relaxes back a little further against the bar. Stretches sinuously. Laughs his quick, barking laugh.]
Weapons don't have hobbies, Ms King. It isn't encouraged.
[Because her fears of what she could have been or might still become, they're present in him, he sees himself as exactly that. A product. Something to be used. And yes there are things he likes outside of what he's meant for, but speaking of it seems wrong and perverse and he pretends, for the most part, that they don't exist at all because to recognise them too openly would be to call into question for himself the reality he's been pressed into.
Acknowledging something like that-- it'd be enough to drive one mad.]
no subject
Instead he relaxes back a little further against the bar. Stretches sinuously. Laughs his quick, barking laugh.]
Weapons don't have hobbies, Ms King. It isn't encouraged.
[Because her fears of what she could have been or might still become, they're present in him, he sees himself as exactly that. A product. Something to be used. And yes there are things he likes outside of what he's meant for, but speaking of it seems wrong and perverse and he pretends, for the most part, that they don't exist at all because to recognise them too openly would be to call into question for himself the reality he's been pressed into.
Acknowledging something like that-- it'd be enough to drive one mad.]