[ Promises, promises. Sharkface leans forward a little, feeling the blade dig into his neck, but she relents before either of them can really test the line. Sharkface is almost disappointed. A fight would feel good right now, proof that his brain hasn't finally given up under the strain and sent him into a fever dream. Pain is real, anger is real. Everything else is relative.
He just laughs, low and hoarse. He doesn't know her. Has no reason in the world to care what she says. It would be easier just to walk away, but he stays. What else is there to do, in this place, except stand around and hope for a fight? ]
Nah. You're just friendly.
[ He holsters the pistol, not particularly concerned with what she does with the knife. ]
no subject
He just laughs, low and hoarse. He doesn't know her. Has no reason in the world to care what she says. It would be easier just to walk away, but he stays. What else is there to do, in this place, except stand around and hope for a fight? ]
Nah. You're just friendly.
[ He holsters the pistol, not particularly concerned with what she does with the knife. ]
My enemies wouldn't hesitate.