he'd been banned from a couple of meetings, and it was his own stubborn ass fault for that. he was insubordinate. he was disrespectful. and he was so ravenous for bloody revenge, that he'd selfishly denied the possibility of accepting any more missions unless it involved hurting the ones who hurt him. it was a focus for which he couldn't shake.
and he was starting to believe it was nothing anyone could help him with. it was a hopeless feeling, turning to a dark obsession rather quickly. and given his other relations with a few other members of the Syndicate he'd made it a point to not show his scared up and militated face there. until today. because he wanted some kind of answers. he wanted to know if there were any leads, and he wanted to poke in and see if his kombucha brew had withered away, or if it were finished.
instead he was met with a set of blue eyes, from spirit herself
@oblame || spirit moves through all things
he greeted her with a smirk, as his eyes landed on that mug for which there was a fissure in the Syndicate band of friends. he fluttered a set of smug eyelashes and held back the information he held onto while side by side with Gil on that metal torture slab.
"Playing accomplice outside of work now, are we? Or are you going to explain why you have Simon's mug?" he crossed his arms over his chest. "Was it you who stole it instead?" he shook his head, 'Thief."
