[ A Celebrity? It's almost funny, Silco wonders what it would be like, in that city. It isn't so unknown, that people would be fans of a powerful killer — some of the more successful Pit Fighters seem to do well enough, well known and regarded — and it isn't like Silco doesn't have his own form of...notoriety. The concept isn't even alien to him, but he supposed he hadn't really thought of Vergilius as that.

He just didn't have the air of it. He didn't carry himself with the arrogance that he'd expected. ]

How funny. I can imagine they speculate about you, don't they? Rumors are always so tiring.

[ Another scrape at his scar, it isn't painful — he doesn't have ability to — but he picks at it regardless. It feels right, more like something that he can open up, so he can put his hooks in him. ]

And what if it is only you? Can you even think of anyone else quite as capable?

[ Maybe it was the violence in him, but Silco had been on the other side of his hands, when he'd wrapped his fingers around his neck, when he'd tried to fight him off. He knew he could kill him with a squeeze, if he wanted. Maybe he liked seeing that turned around on someone else. Maybe he just liked watching violence be spilled in his name, or at his direction. Or maybe... well. There was no need to think about any other reasons, was there? ]