[With a quiet smile, Cassel nods. This is - actually pretty good. Better than expected, given the goading, but Chris does occasionally exceed his expectations. He presses the fingers of his right hand against the rent skin, pushes down, just for a few seconds, and then lets his fingertips rest tacky with blood against Slevin's neck.]
You don't get to call him that.
[He pulls off one glove and lays it on Slevin's shoulder, leaning his elbow companionably on the other. Technically he doesn't need to remove them, not with the holes he's made, but it's a symbolic thing, a fast route to fear.]
Keep going. [This to Chris, while he steels himself.]
Spam
You don't get to call him that.
[He pulls off one glove and lays it on Slevin's shoulder, leaning his elbow companionably on the other. Technically he doesn't need to remove them, not with the holes he's made, but it's a symbolic thing, a fast route to fear.]
Keep going. [This to Chris, while he steels himself.]