[ He recognizes this. He recognizes the way she's acting, the way her hand grips that fork like she wants to plunge it into someone's neck, the way her shoulders go tight now that she's not alone. The way she seems jumpy and agitated. It's more than just existentialism, it's more than just new surrounding, unfamiliar people. It's not just discomfort. It's probably ptsd, but he's no damn doctor.
It's something he can sense because remembers feeling it.
He can see every kid hunter in her posture, every Krissy Chambers he ever met. He can see himself.
She's from a fucked up situation. His lips part a little as his eyes flick over her, that understanding rushing through him for a second before his face blanks out again. The only thing worse than agitating her further would be letting on he can see through her, he knows that from experience, so he covers it up quick. ]
Moldy bread.
[ He deadpans, a blatant level of sarcasm coating it that he doesn't bother hiding. In other words, if you don't know he's not gonna be the one to tell you, kid. He's sure she can pick up on that, because kids her age are fucking smart about that kinda thing. ]
What the hell are you doing running around alone anyway, pipsqueak? What are you, like, twelve?
[ He's antagonizing her not because he particularly means anything he's saying, but he figures riling her up a little about something other than whatever's eating at her nerves might take her mind somewhere else. Give her a little distraction to help her get a grip.
Crowded public places ain't exactly the best way to get reintroduced to reality if everything you knew before it was violence. ]
no subject
It's something he can sense because remembers feeling it.
He can see every kid hunter in her posture, every Krissy Chambers he ever met. He can see himself.
She's from a fucked up situation. His lips part a little as his eyes flick over her, that understanding rushing through him for a second before his face blanks out again. The only thing worse than agitating her further would be letting on he can see through her, he knows that from experience, so he covers it up quick. ]
Moldy bread.
[ He deadpans, a blatant level of sarcasm coating it that he doesn't bother hiding. In other words, if you don't know he's not gonna be the one to tell you, kid. He's sure she can pick up on that, because kids her age are fucking smart about that kinda thing. ]
What the hell are you doing running around alone anyway, pipsqueak? What are you, like, twelve?
[ He's antagonizing her not because he particularly means anything he's saying, but he figures riling her up a little about something other than whatever's eating at her nerves might take her mind somewhere else. Give her a little distraction to help her get a grip.
Crowded public places ain't exactly the best way to get reintroduced to reality if everything you knew before it was violence. ]