[ Matt should probably never mention his thoughts about Quetzalcoatl to Silco, the person who hated her for the crime of β checks notes β being nice and understanding to him.
Nor really any of the rest, because Silco would have refuted each and every one of them in order, with careful, modulated anger, because he was always angry, but who could blame him, given the circumstances he was in, the hatred he felt, and the reasons for it? Well, most could, but he would have been seen as slightly more likable if he'd been open and honest with such reasons. No, though, Silco was a creature whose secrets and obfuscations would and always did end in his own downfall, and would have, were his world to continue.
The blood flooded into his mouth, and he drank. There was no sound from him, no pleasure, no hunger. It was eerily silent, two eyes remained open β one blinked occasionally β the other eerily still, not searching for every exit like a hunted animal like he usually did. It was fixed on the prey in front of him, on the food.
It hung for several minutes in the air, Silco's eerie silence, not even the sound of a beast feasting, just a silent, cruel creature that took what he could, especially when it was easy, and offered.
Finally, he let go, and pulled a kerchief from his pocket, using it on his own mouth, before pocketing it. He didn't offer Matt one. (Rude.) ]
Not too much, I hope. I'd prefer to leave you to be able to stand and walk out of here on your own.
no subject
Nor really any of the rest, because Silco would have refuted each and every one of them in order, with careful, modulated anger, because he was always angry, but who could blame him, given the circumstances he was in, the hatred he felt, and the reasons for it? Well, most could, but he would have been seen as slightly more likable if he'd been open and honest with such reasons. No, though, Silco was a creature whose secrets and obfuscations would and always did end in his own downfall, and would have, were his world to continue.
The blood flooded into his mouth, and he drank. There was no sound from him, no pleasure, no hunger. It was eerily silent, two eyes remained open β one blinked occasionally β the other eerily still, not searching for every exit like a hunted animal like he usually did. It was fixed on the prey in front of him, on the food.
It hung for several minutes in the air, Silco's eerie silence, not even the sound of a beast feasting, just a silent, cruel creature that took what he could, especially when it was easy, and offered.
Finally, he let go, and pulled a kerchief from his pocket, using it on his own mouth, before pocketing it. He didn't offer Matt one. (Rude.) ]
Not too much, I hope. I'd prefer to leave you to be able to stand and walk out of here on your own.