Curious to a Fault

“I ain’t saying you don’t have any empathy, I’m just sayin’ it don’t seem like ya do from what ya’ve said so far.” She said with a scowl, “That or ya just aren’t usin’ it.” She wasn’t even sure she was making sense to herself, but she was this far in, arguing with a child, so it didn’t seem likely she was going to stop. “Ya got ta use your empathy, put yourself in other’s shoes, try ta see how they feel.”

The boy made a face. Why would he wear other people’s shoes? He barely liked to take the time to tie his own shoes. And those fit his feet correctly. He wasn’t a fool. If he gave it half a second of thought he could no doubt figure out what was meant by the turn of phrase.

He chose not to.

“I think th’ problem’s that ya came from th’ surface. Ya ain’t th’ pure Rapture mindset that I do.” 

He should apologize for being rude.

“I know much about the sisters. But wanting to tell you? Nothing.” Her breathing was still uneven, coming in broken gasps and deep inhalations. Did he truly believe that she would tell him…ANYTHING about her girls? And what exactly was it he even wanted to know?

To catch them, likely. Did he think she knew how to separate the girls from their protectors? Somehow, through all her pain, through the torture she had been subjected to, she managed to smile. To exhale the faintest laugh.

“You can… you cannot get to sisters, can you? Your men… nothing but splicers, and you are thinking… you can control them with ADAM?” Was she gloating? Her mind screamed at her to be sensible, to stop, to think. But that dark, broken, twisted up part of her wanted to PUSH. To see how far this man would go. “I have NOTHING to tell you.”

Bitch. Fucking bitch. Though the smile stayed on his lips darkness slipped in behind his eyes. A furious black flame that would burn Rapture to the ground if ever the young man lost control for even a moment. He stood up with a sigh, letting the chair slide away from him as he pushed it gently with a foot. This BITCH thought she could keep it from him?

A hand grabbed a fistful of the woman’s hair, jerking on it hard. Trying to wrench her head back. Expose her throat entirely. The smile gone at last when he looked down at her.

“I ain’t sure I made myself clear a moment ago. I ain’t askin’. I’m demandin’. Now, ya can either tell me how t’ get them Frankensteins ya created willin’ly. Or I can make ya damn well scream th’ answer.”

@weelittlepatrick·

With the way that he was reacting to her, it was becoming increasingly clear that, yes, he WASinterested. And Sweet Pea had to admit, he was much easier on the eyes (and ears, too) than a lot of the people she’d dealt with in the past. Might be nice to….change that.

She couldn’t help the little laugh that left her at his words; she was genuinely amused, instead of simply pretending to be whatever she thought her companion might want her to be.

“But what if I wanted to teach them to YOU?” she asked, voice a low purr, even as she reached out, running a hand over one of his suspenders, as though to straighten it.  Really, she’d just wanted touch him, to see if that might …. ENCOURAGE him at all.

@starcftheshow

Oh fuck it all! She was a succubus. He’d heard fairy tales or the like about those. Beautiful women who stole men’s souls or something when they had sex. That was this woman. Patrick was certain of it. With that seductive little laugh. And that absolutely delectable body. And the touching him. Oh... Oh he could think of a few better places she could touch if she was so inclined.

His hands moved to the woman’s waist. Eyes staying fixed on her face as he ran his thumbs in small circles. He could be good. He was totally not doing anything. Certainly nothing he had to pay for. Limited funds.

Plus if he was in such a hurry she bet he wasn’t planning to wait long enough for any sort of pain medication to take effect, so that meant greater chance of him moving her screwing up and him bleeding to death. Maybe she should have just let him leave after all. Still she was supposed to be a doctor so it was her duty to patch him up, plus the whole paying her thing, that definitely helped.

“Alright stick your arm out and hold as still as you can, otherwise there’s a good chance I could slip and mess up something important and then you’ll die anyway. Also might want to bite down on something, unless I can convince you to wait for some painkillers to kick in?”

“How long’re pain thin’s gonna take?” Patrick would take the truth to his grave, but he wasn’t exactly fond of pain. In fact, the revolutionary had been known to be rather pathetic when it came to being hurt. The fact that he was sitting here, bleeding out, calmly probably should have been a red flag of some nature. Maybe adrenaline? He didn't care much.

He finally stood and gave him that knowing disappointed look. “Were you snooping around again? You know your mother will kill me if I don’t take you right home.”

Snooping was a strong word for it. Loitering around in places that he wasn’t supposed to be. That was a better term if one asked the young blond. Though, the way his blue-green eyes looked anywhere but at the pale adult and he shifted back and forth on his feet it was clear he understood he was in trouble. Again.

“I don’t remember ya tellin’ me nothin’.” Liar. “An’ I don’t see how come Mum’s gotta know anythin’ since I ain’t done nothin’ wrong. I told ya. I didn’t do it. Or it was an accident.”