[He sounds a little bordering on the edge of hysterical. Because, yes. That's an absurd, ridiculous, infuriating task when they haven't been given a single guideline. But on the other hand, this was already impossible, only now Bull might live. And they might be able to kill an alien, making this not a monstrous betrayal of everything he resolved not to be but rather a means to fight back. They might even be able to do some good here. And Bull might live. He wants that so much more than he knew he would.]
Well, then. I suppose...if any of us can be made to participate, for reasons we may never learn. I'd rather do it while I've control of my own mind. Besides, it's to save Par Vollen. Father would hate that; always a plus. I'm not nearly as certain of his feelings on murder via demon possession.
Or what I mean to say. [Because he ought to actually say it rather than make bitter jokes.] You have my help, if you want it. I won't see you forced to do this alone.
Hey, if they get as far as Par Vollen, pretty sure it's not looking good for Minrathous.
[It's almost crueler this way. To have a bit of hope - as small and unlikely as it is - that they could get out of this alive. And maybe do some good on the way out.]
. . . Thanks. You don't have to, but. If I'm gonna do this, having someone on my side helps.
[He has a few comments about Corypheus obviously not caring too much about what his place looks like considering he's wrecked pretty much any other crib he's had (just look what he did to the Black City) and has no problem infecting the main bulk of his army with lyrium that's probably going to kill them in like. a year. So clearly the guy has foresight issues but WHATEVER. Distracted enough.]
Alright, glad to have you join the team then. We need a name.
[No, he doesn't really want that either. Tugging him towards the bed to sit.]
Come, you. Enough of this. I've four bottles of now extraordinarily suspect parlor liquor I suppose I must dispose of. But if I'm going to be sober, I'd at least like to polish off the brandy first.
Team names, pouring out innocent beverages, and other necessities can wait until morning, can't they?
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[He sounds a little bordering on the edge of hysterical. Because, yes. That's an absurd, ridiculous, infuriating task when they haven't been given a single guideline. But on the other hand, this was already impossible, only now Bull might live. And they might be able to kill an alien, making this not a monstrous betrayal of everything he resolved not to be but rather a means to fight back. They might even be able to do some good here. And Bull might live. He wants that so much more than he knew he would.]
Well, then. I suppose...if any of us can be made to participate, for reasons we may never learn. I'd rather do it while I've control of my own mind. Besides, it's to save Par Vollen. Father would hate that; always a plus. I'm not nearly as certain of his feelings on murder via demon possession.
Or what I mean to say. [Because he ought to actually say it rather than make bitter jokes.] You have my help, if you want it. I won't see you forced to do this alone.
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[It's almost crueler this way. To have a bit of hope - as small and unlikely as it is - that they could get out of this alive. And maybe do some good on the way out.]
. . . Thanks. You don't have to, but. If I'm gonna do this, having someone on my side helps.
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[Even though this isn't exactly a romantic moment (well, maybe Bull thinks it is), tugging his face down for a kiss.]
Nonsense. This isn't your side, it's ours.
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Alright, glad to have you join the team then. We need a name.
[To pull off murders with.]
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[Smiling a little, though. It's easier to put the reality of it behind him.]
Then again, Cassandra doubtless would not approve.
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[He seems amused at the image for just a moment before his face falls slightly.]
. . . You think they're doing okay? Going on two months without us around. Must be boring as shit there.
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[Looking at him fondly. Don't be worried.]
Boring as shit indeed. Selfishly, if I must be trapped here, I'm glad it was with decent company.
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[This. Is gross!!!!! He doesn't want to ruin a nice moment by getting back to the practicalities of having to murder someone.]
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Come, you. Enough of this. I've four bottles of now extraordinarily suspect parlor liquor I suppose I must dispose of. But if I'm going to be sober, I'd at least like to polish off the brandy first.
Team names, pouring out innocent beverages, and other necessities can wait until morning, can't they?