[You could not pay their waiter enough money to come back to this table.
As the flash-chokehold manifests and this chucklefuck starts spewing some top notch nonsense, Jill gives a sour hiss with what little give she's afforded. There's no spike of fear this time. Just volcanic rage. The bile spills out in the cruel curve of her Cheshire grin, the flash of her livid eyes.
Man. Jill has some bone to pick with her other half if they live through this. First she doesn't give her a heads up about being spirited away to some Sleepy Hollow-looking dump. Then she wastes her time lecturing her about roughing up that old bastard in the hospital, when she should be warning her about assholes like this guy.
This is the problem with sharing emotions and not memories. She knows looking at this face makes her want to puke. The whys and hows are all a mystery. Could have used a brief on what this turd was capable of, at the least. It's glaringly obvious that he's not human. Or hasn't been for some time.
How annoying.]
Aaaah...so that's it? [Her voice is has been squeezed to a steam whistle hiss. Why, oh why, oh why did Miss Morose let it get this far in the first place? Idiot. She can't do shit backed into a corner like this. Jill's hands raise and splay on either side of her. It could be a surrender. It could be a "tada" moment.] Bitch, or brisket?
[How literal was he talking if he's making a meal of her? And fusion? What the fuck would she want that for? She's already too close to Gloomy as it is.
What to do, what to do?
Her giggle is little more than gasps and a heave of her ribs, a wee wrinkle in her nose.]
Either way...you're really scraping the bottom of the barrel. [Jill coughs. It's dry as a bone. She's got no say while his hand's on her neck. Miraculous that she can spit anything out at all.] Life must be...so dull for you...
no subject
As the flash-chokehold manifests and this chucklefuck starts spewing some top notch nonsense, Jill gives a sour hiss with what little give she's afforded. There's no spike of fear this time. Just volcanic rage. The bile spills out in the cruel curve of her Cheshire grin, the flash of her livid eyes.
Man. Jill has some bone to pick with her other half if they live through this. First she doesn't give her a heads up about being spirited away to some Sleepy Hollow-looking dump. Then she wastes her time lecturing her about roughing up that old bastard in the hospital, when she should be warning her about assholes like this guy.
This is the problem with sharing emotions and not memories. She knows looking at this face makes her want to puke. The whys and hows are all a mystery. Could have used a brief on what this turd was capable of, at the least. It's glaringly obvious that he's not human. Or hasn't been for some time.
How annoying.]
Aaaah...so that's it? [Her voice is has been squeezed to a steam whistle hiss. Why, oh why, oh why did Miss Morose let it get this far in the first place? Idiot. She can't do shit backed into a corner like this. Jill's hands raise and splay on either side of her. It could be a surrender. It could be a "tada" moment.] Bitch, or brisket?
[How literal was he talking if he's making a meal of her? And fusion? What the fuck would she want that for? She's already too close to Gloomy as it is.
What to do, what to do?
Her giggle is little more than gasps and a heave of her ribs, a wee wrinkle in her nose.]
Either way...you're really scraping the bottom of the barrel. [Jill coughs. It's dry as a bone. She's got no say while his hand's on her neck. Miraculous that she can spit anything out at all.] Life must be...so dull for you...