the Shape looks down at the pig-masked killer, head tilting in intrigue as he moves onto his tip toes. there’s a massive height difference between them, but it’s not Will’s fault. Michael has always been taller than everyone around him, ever since he was fourteen. usually he doesn’t look down at others and makes them look up at him, but Will is an exception. he helps the other, guiding him to step on Michael’s boots so their heights match a bit more. happy, Will?

molly vc: keep talkin’

She squints at the notes Will's been scribbling down between bites of sushi; Normal dinner conversation. "Ew, his eyes? What did this guy do, anyway?"

with or without the mask: Jesus, I'm in for it.

She lunges with her knife; not to kill, just to maim. Her blade catches his shoulder, tearing fabric, drawing blood. Free hand catches him in a headlock, knee slammed into his lower back. His temple makes impact with the table before he hits the ground, but the sound is off. Muffled. Is he wearing a mask?

the shape does not hesitate to reach down,  lifting will up off the floor without any effort to get some more of those kisses he enjoys so much.

     “ WELL. I GUESS you get to say you care about something. ” Seems the world doesn’t suck that out of just everyone. Maybe there’s a twinge of jealousy sparking in him, before it’s snuffed out by the memory of the pain caring took on him. The toll it wages.       “ Surprised it doesn’t tire you out. ” His tone is genuine, a brow raising. “ I gave up caring from the sheer emotional toll it took; which lead to a physical toll. Guess if you don’t feel it, you’re good to go. ”

head tilts at words never heard before. he likes them, he thinks. bloodied fingers move up, cupping underneath the smaller’s chin to better meet his eyes, even through the black holes of his mask. Michael doesn’t mind this at all, so long as Will is his, too.