"Fine by me, but I'm used to being the special one." Girls, girls, you're both insufferably egotistical, we get it. Jim winks as he takes the bottle back, deliberately letting his fingers brush Scratch's a bit more than necessary. Nothing is more magnetizing than evil, and Scratch is exuding it in spades, which means Moriarty is completely engaged in the conversation: something that's rare and wonderful for him. True connection of any kind is so sparse that it's requiring all of his self control not to act like a starving man in the face of it.
He savors every word of what he's told, and finds that he actually empathizes with the feeling of being reduced. Even if he doesn't have the sort of powers Scratch did, his power lay in information, in contacts, in control. And all of that is gone. He still isn't sure how much of his vast knowledge even applies here. Rage threatens to lock and shudder every muscle in his body just at the thought of it -
But then the other shoe drops: he's one of the people who's been and gone. Jim has only met a couple of them, so far, but the concept absolutely fascinates him. Sadly, it's the same story he's gotten from them: one moment, monstrous, the next, wham, human in the house of traps. One more mystery to unravel.... another frustration on the pile. Once you're a monster, murder is just kind of ... expected.
Jim's discomfort and simmering anger shifts slowly into an indulgent smile. "Yeah, me too. Everything else is hot garbage, though. ... Can we rewind a tad? What was that about a narrative, sounded like maybe with a capital N?"
no subject
He savors every word of what he's told, and finds that he actually empathizes with the feeling of being reduced. Even if he doesn't have the sort of powers Scratch did, his power lay in information, in contacts, in control. And all of that is gone. He still isn't sure how much of his vast knowledge even applies here. Rage threatens to lock and shudder every muscle in his body just at the thought of it -
But then the other shoe drops: he's one of the people who's been and gone. Jim has only met a couple of them, so far, but the concept absolutely fascinates him. Sadly, it's the same story he's gotten from them: one moment, monstrous, the next, wham, human in the house of traps. One more mystery to unravel.... another frustration on the pile. Once you're a monster, murder is just kind of ... expected.
Jim's discomfort and simmering anger shifts slowly into an indulgent smile. "Yeah, me too. Everything else is hot garbage, though. ... Can we rewind a tad? What was that about a narrative, sounded like maybe with a capital N?"