"Would you accept 'all of the above'?" you ask, since, strictly speaking, it's true - for a broad definition of candy. A
very
broad definition indeed. You're not entirely sure how she feels about your more... carnivorous tendencies, or even if she knows about them. It's not like you advertise how close you sometimes are to taking up her offers of 'bite me'. Though you probably wouldn't like the taste; alcohol and you have never agreed, and it'd be just like her to replace her blood with vodka the moment your fangs came out.
"Why am I not surprised?" Her voice is light and lilting, and this--for want of a better word--concerns you. Even her most scathing lines are usually delivered in deadpan, something that always amused you. For that to change is unusual, to say the least, and you have never got on well with 'unusual'.
There is a way that Creation should be, a fixing of facts and a continuum of certainty, and you do not appreciate when it is disrupted.
That said, you could be entirely imagining things. It is not as if you are the best at deciphering social nuances, or interpreting the behaviour of others. You are a sword, not a psychologist.
And, of course, even if you
were
right, you wouldn't know the first thing about what to do. You have lived your entire life by a maxim not dissimilar to 'might makes right': if a problem cannot be solved through violence, try harder. Yet, for some reason, part of you quails at the thought of laying a hand on her - with intent to kill, at any rate.
So, instead--though instead of what, you're not entirely sure, given you're still chained to this pole--you speak.
"Because you've spent more than five minutes in my presence?"
"That'd do it," she says, almost laughing. "So, those chains. How do they work?"
You smile. It is a savage thing, all sharp edges and sadism. "Oh, they are most
fascinating
. My captors were very keen on mind-games; mostly because it was beyond their ability to harm me."
16-Jan-2015 11:45:35
- Last edited on
16-Jan-2015 11:48:36
by
Enheduanna