[She repeats that, through clenched teeth, every fibre of her being aching to just draw her fist back and drive it into that smug face. She imagines in great detail the satisfying impact, the way flesh and bone would crack under her fist. Maybe the crack of a tooth breaking. The gush of blood from a busted nose and lips splitting from being crushed against teeth.
She almost does it. Almost follows that instinct to leap across the table fist-first and end him. But she doesn't, though she's shaking with the restrained urge. Instead, she takes a sip of her beer, confident that Silco will see her shaking hand and know that it's rage and not fear making her tremble.]
Nothing is ever that simple with you, Silco. What's your game?
[Setting her beer back down with a thump, she makes eye contact and holds it, refusing to back down. It's never clear, with Silco, whether or not she has the upper hand just by merit of being stronger and faster and better, and she doesn't like the underlying concern that she might be an animal about to set off a trap right now. But she holds eye contact, mouth set in a straight line, brows furrowed, letting her angry gaze bore into him.]
cw: violence
[She repeats that, through clenched teeth, every fibre of her being aching to just draw her fist back and drive it into that smug face. She imagines in great detail the satisfying impact, the way flesh and bone would crack under her fist. Maybe the crack of a tooth breaking. The gush of blood from a busted nose and lips splitting from being crushed against teeth.
She almost does it. Almost follows that instinct to leap across the table fist-first and end him. But she doesn't, though she's shaking with the restrained urge. Instead, she takes a sip of her beer, confident that Silco will see her shaking hand and know that it's rage and not fear making her tremble.]
Nothing is ever that simple with you, Silco. What's your game?
[Setting her beer back down with a thump, she makes eye contact and holds it, refusing to back down. It's never clear, with Silco, whether or not she has the upper hand just by merit of being stronger and faster and better, and she doesn't like the underlying concern that she might be an animal about to set off a trap right now. But she holds eye contact, mouth set in a straight line, brows furrowed, letting her angry gaze bore into him.]