"how positively grim and gruesome you are, victor dear. why, you'd nearly be able to make x-man with that sort of attitude." were she diamond, one would be able to hear the scratch of her eyes as they rolled, the harsh scrape of her nail along her palm as fingers flicked outward in disgust. unheard, as always, are her eyes as they narrow -- but the effect is felt all the same. "tell me why you're hear. you know i can't stand poking through that spiky little brain of yours."
𝙰 𝙻𝚈𝙲𝙰𝙽 𝚂𝙼𝙸𝙻𝙴 befell Victor upon entry, with an even gait carried past the white - trimmed threshold of the doorway & into the wine red wallpapered room. warm light caught on the gold leaf details hatched above the wainscotting & like opposed magnets landed with reluctance & jaundice on his pallor making of him a freshly awoken cadaver. suppose if you looked closely enough you might yet find grave soil pressed beneath his nail.
he hummed, ambling the room as if she'd welcomed him in. as if they were friends, reacquainted, invited for lunch. beyond the window the world dimmed in a cold glaucoma & from the glass poured a soft gray light creating geometric patterns on the floor. passing a mahogany tea table he swiped his finger across the top, blunt shadow cast on the displayed porcelain, wilting the hand-painted carmine flowers. ❝ if only i were interested in your little league of super heroes. but as it goes, i don't exactly have a good record with the sort.
❝ i thought i heard word that a friend was in town. decided i'd pay a visit. ❞ he stopped a short way from her, leaning against one of the decorative columns in the room, his hands in his pocket. everything indicated, despite the subject that soon followed, a relaxed posture. not because the air around him nearly rippled with power, not for some sense of faux security: he knew what emma was capable of, with some torquing curiosity wondered his own ability to toil with it should she get in his head. but her distaste for him aside, Victor found he actually liked Emma. found her intriguing. ❝ i came to ask what you're doing here. or rather, to tell you to leave. the lot that's after mine is catching on to yours. i doubt they care to distinguish the two or that they'll care much once they do. ❞
