[ He's right. They should get out of there. Scythians may be made of sturdy stuff, and sure, she's got an auxiliary organ or two in there, but she's not invulnerable — she can still get sick, even if they've never seen it. She's still only flesh and bone. She still —
She's not listening to him, is she? She hasn't even turned her head in his direction. Which wouldn't be entirely unusual, under different circumstances — Andy is especially practiced at feigning disinterest — but not here, not when there are stakes. No, she's just... Standing there with one hand over her eyes as if she has a headache, or maybe like the lights overhead are too bright. Her breaths are — wheezing, just for a few inhales and exhales. As if something were stuck in her throat.
Her other hand is still gripping her bloody knife. Imperceptibly, her fingers curl a little tighter.
It seems an eternity before her arm finally drops. She turns her head just slightly towards him. Enough that he must be able to see — how bloodshot her eyes are, how dark they are, even more than usual, from how wide her pupils have been blown. ]
I don't know. [ Her voice rasps a little. And not just in the usual way, from smoking all those goddamn cigarettes. Like there's sandpaper scraping on every word. Almost like a growl. ] I'm having fun.
[ That's all the warning he gets before she's lunging at him, that blade glinting, deadly and sharp. ]
no subject
She's not listening to him, is she? She hasn't even turned her head in his direction. Which wouldn't be entirely unusual, under different circumstances — Andy is especially practiced at feigning disinterest — but not here, not when there are stakes. No, she's just... Standing there with one hand over her eyes as if she has a headache, or maybe like the lights overhead are too bright. Her breaths are — wheezing, just for a few inhales and exhales. As if something were stuck in her throat.
Her other hand is still gripping her bloody knife. Imperceptibly, her fingers curl a little tighter.
It seems an eternity before her arm finally drops. She turns her head just slightly towards him. Enough that he must be able to see — how bloodshot her eyes are, how dark they are, even more than usual, from how wide her pupils have been blown. ]
I don't know. [ Her voice rasps a little. And not just in the usual way, from smoking all those goddamn cigarettes. Like there's sandpaper scraping on every word. Almost like a growl. ] I'm having fun.
[ That's all the warning he gets before she's lunging at him, that blade glinting, deadly and sharp. ]