[ Fenris's voice is bone-dry. He's here because he's a ghost, and always has been. A terrifying shadow, bound completely to the Company's will--or so they presume. He watches Jack laugh and twitch, observes the cut and glint of his sharp, white teeth. Notices the beads of sweat on his throat, on the ruined landscape of his burned face. ]
Perhaps you'd like a cool washcloth.
[ He stops just short of saying 'sir', because while he might agree to play caretaker, he's not going to outright cross the line into 'butler'. ]
no subject
[ Fenris's voice is bone-dry. He's here because he's a ghost, and always has been. A terrifying shadow, bound completely to the Company's will--or so they presume. He watches Jack laugh and twitch, observes the cut and glint of his sharp, white teeth. Notices the beads of sweat on his throat, on the ruined landscape of his burned face. ]
Perhaps you'd like a cool washcloth.
[ He stops just short of saying 'sir', because while he might agree to play caretaker, he's not going to outright cross the line into 'butler'. ]