❛ there are countless ways to open a carcass ❜ (from jayoon)
@chaosvoiced | hieu minh nguyen’s not here
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Chuckling precedes any sort of statement.
He likes the way she says things, almost with the same fascination of the scientest that made the two of them. Just a lot more removed, a lot less interested in seeing results. The way she speaks is simply so much her own, that look in her eyes, that unbothered smile, such a big contrast to the show she’d put up to get where she’d gotten, past his eyes that had claimed the truth as such from the get-go.
Fuck.
He really hates the way she talks.
“We’d know a thing or two about that, huh?” He himself is smiling, not just the vision of her imprinted into his brain, behind his inner eye, the one that had fueled the ability to feel anything at all, even if that anything is unbridled hatred.
But his smile lacks the touch of unbothered, lacks amusement. He’s cynical. Been raised that way.
And he fucking hates the way she talks.
He gestures vaguely, aggressively, at the body lying somewhat beneath them, off to his side, off to her side, not occupying the space directly seperating them. Not that it would be bothersome if it did. Doing what they can do, shoving aside anything that is in the way is as easy as breaking a thin layer of glass.
“Go on. Show the class. Maybe you learnt a thing or two extra about how to pick apart a body. Growing up on that farm, must have seen a lot of death, a lot of births. Wonder if that’s why you feel as though you’ve earned a shot at being human.” He tilts his head to the side, his pensive expressions take on a mocking tone. But he is interested, he is asking to get an answer, notion just as evident in his eyes when he lifts an eyebrow and poses his question. “You’ve come so close to the natural cycle of things. How did that feel? Didn’t learn too much about feelings and stuff, huh. Not that stuff you need to imitate them, I know those too. The real ones. Since you’re talking about opening carcasses.”
Chuckles rip through him again, a small burst of laughter, subdued, private almost, millimeters from a giggle, as he looks down at the corpse, and suddenly sighs. He hates all of fucking existence. “I don’t think you’ll find anything in there, anyway. Stomach acid, must have already had a go at it. Although, may have been designed to be swallowed, considering how readily they did.”
