The only natural progression, though his mind is still leashed to processing the sickly outline of events that'd led to the death of both a man and his daughter over nothing more than the sin of proximity. Logically— his gloved fingertips slipping just along the edges of those pistols, uncertain of precisely what they are— his mind knows there's nothing of his own damning tale to be found in it. But it still rings similarly, in a sense.
Knowing what it's like to be poison in a well, just for the matter of existing.
But then again, what else is more fitting for a cambion and a vampire?
no subject
The only natural progression, though his mind is still leashed to processing the sickly outline of events that'd led to the death of both a man and his daughter over nothing more than the sin of proximity. Logically— his gloved fingertips slipping just along the edges of those pistols, uncertain of precisely what they are— his mind knows there's nothing of his own damning tale to be found in it. But it still rings similarly, in a sense.
Knowing what it's like to be poison in a well, just for the matter of existing.
But then again, what else is more fitting for a cambion and a vampire?