SEEING the seething spire of RAGE spit from him like the bursting of a volcano causes a twist upward curl of his lip. THERE WAS SOMETHING wonderful about the ugly nature of a man coming to the light. PERHAPS it’s sadistic of him but men like Sabal liked to PRETEND as he’d gathered. THEY WEREN’T upfront with people, a pet peeve of his if he were to be honest but he can see the VISIBLE strain on Sabal’s face at the mention of Amita, and IT’S LIKE A MIRACLE to him.
A CRACK in that perfect mask of his, and while it’s twisted, SABAL was his ENEMY for all intents and purposes. Karter wasn’t going to PRETEND otherwise like his present company, but it’s VICIOUSLY amusing to see him lose his TEMPER, but then he reverts. THAT GLIMMER fades back to this STAUNCH UPTURNED NOSE of his, and it fuels the burning inferno within him. HE SPEAKS so highly, as though he knows not WHAT KIND of mayhem Karter was capable of, but he reminds himself.
SABAL HASN’T HAD THE MISFORTUNE OF CROSSING SWORDS WITH HIM.
It’s a fight he’d better be praying never comes because Karter had a PARTICULAR itch for violence against Sabal that had been SEVERELY UNCHECKED. Unmoderated, which meant he’d better pray to EVERY GOD he had should the tension break and Karter’s IRE be invoked. It’d be an unpleasant day for him to say the ABSOLUTE least.
A BROW raises at the words he speaks and for a second he considers SHARPENING his tongue further, but it’s a rare occasion where he remains silent and lets his EXPRESSION do the talk. BLANK but behind eyes are a STEELY CALCULATING gaze. One that a mind that was ASTUTE would recognize as a man BREAKING apart his enemy piece by piece…LIKE UNDOING A PUZZLE.
“I think that’s fer AJAY t’decide. Don’ ya? ‘less a course ya don’ CARE ‘bout him like y’say y’do.”
THE FIRMNESS of his tone is where his WALL goes up. SABAL was playing games and dragging Ajay deeper and deeper into a pit he might never crawl out of, AND with this Karter could see Sabal digging his claws DEEPER into the man. IT WAS SOMETHING he was intent on DISRUPTING AND DESTROYING. Nothing would satiate him more than RUINING a twisted scheme of a SNAKE like Sabal.
“Welp, better get USED t’it. Cuz wherever th’SON a MOHAN goes, I GO. Y’dig? So whether y’like it OR NOT, m’here an’ M’PLAYIN’ a part. WHETHER this war s’mine t’fight er NOT, m’fightin’ either way. But WHATEVER floats yer boat.”
IF SABAL wanted to try and mess with his head, KARTER would ensure that karmic justice was served VIOLENTLY AND VICIOUSLY so. BUT it’s the next inquiry that catches him. A BROW RAISING and his fierce & intense glare cast on SABAL. LIKE THE BURNING RAY OF A MAGNIFYING GLASS UNDER THE SUMMER SUN. He’s barely looking AT SABAL, more burning HOLES through him metaphorically speaking. AT THAT he OPENLY scoffs, the absolute ridiculousness of the inquiry almost MAKING him topple over with laughter.
Not everything Amita stood for was wrong and pitiful; they even agreed on more than Sabal would like to admit, but there was something about her that brought the worst in the man: how she was a godless, faithless, hungry for intel woman who despised her own country’s traditions and culture. She looked down at everything he looked up to, even the man he respected the most: Mohan Ghale.
The claims about his own sentiments for the son of Mohan are enough to make him cringe, visibly. Yes, he is using Ajay; it is for the best of Kyrat, or that’s what he convinces himself to believe, but it didn’t erase how he really felt: he cared, and he still does, even when his actions showed otherwise.
He is ready to reply again, but his eyes meet the other’s cutting gaze; the words get stuck in his throat for a moment. He’s right about this foreigner, he’s never been wrong when it came to judging people even if just by their looks: this man is far too dangerous than he’d like to admit verbally. It triggers Sabal’s calculating mind: Getting rid of this threat is too risky to attempt, and besides, he’d lose Ajay for it, the son of Mohan was no stupid. He’s tried getting the man on his side, but it was all just a waste of time and effort. At least he’s not on Amita’s side.
He comes to a conclusion: he can try and keep the fire between them as it is and only avoid igniting it any further.
❝ Of course, he has free will, ❞ he starts, his tone isn’t hostile but firm enough. ❝ I would remind him that he has a home here though. If he ever decides to leave, he still has a place to return to. He’s welcome. Always. ❞
His jaw clenches at the next words; he doesn’t need an outsider to fight their war, even more so when they are so close to Ajay. He respected Mohan, even idolized him, but he learned from the man’s mistakes: he doesn’t need another foreigner lending a hand only to usurp the throne once the gunfire is silenced. He knows, or strongly believes, at least: Karter is no Pagan. Thank Kyra.
Usually, his words are the best weapon to fight with, but in this instance, he finds silence, defense, the best solution.
A sigh is allowed to find its way out. ❝ There is no next question, but I respect it if you prefer not answering. ❞
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