[Probably not the point they should be arguing, particularly as there is the wee matter of all that blood. Like Bruce Willis, old habits die hard.
She isn't getting a name in return, which makes him all the more suspicious. Instead, Toko's ping of familiarity comes with the one-two combo of bad humour and bad timing, bolstered by bravado and a mouth that runs on Mach speeds. Though she recoils again at the analogy—]
What did you d-do? Crawl inside of her?
[—her squint now leans towards a hard-nosed assessment, rather than disgust or terror. She knows him, knows something nebulous about his nature. He's unusual (and infuriating), those she can feel in the pit of her gut, but whatever terror she had is leaking away. Somehow, bloodied up or not, his presence assuages her fears instead of stoking them.]
...How am I not supposed to worry about it? [She bites at her lip. Takes a wild guess.] It's n-not yours, is it?
[Yet she's standing her ground. Ready to hear him out. You have the floor, Mr. Sociopath.]
no subject
[Probably not the point they should be arguing, particularly as there is the wee matter of all that blood. Like Bruce Willis, old habits die hard.
She isn't getting a name in return, which makes him all the more suspicious. Instead, Toko's ping of familiarity comes with the one-two combo of bad humour and bad timing, bolstered by bravado and a mouth that runs on Mach speeds. Though she recoils again at the analogy—]
What did you d-do? Crawl inside of her?
[—her squint now leans towards a hard-nosed assessment, rather than disgust or terror. She knows him, knows something nebulous about his nature. He's unusual (and infuriating), those she can feel in the pit of her gut, but whatever terror she had is leaking away. Somehow, bloodied up or not, his presence assuages her fears instead of stoking them.]
...How am I not supposed to worry about it? [She bites at her lip. Takes a wild guess.] It's n-not yours, is it?
[Yet she's standing her ground. Ready to hear him out. You have the floor, Mr. Sociopath.]