[ He's still smiling but there's a distinct nervous energy to it. He pulls awkwardly at his collar, the top one or two unbuttoned so it doesn't hug too close to his bandaged throat. ]
Oh, yes. Well. Can't lie to your pretty face and say I'm not a little nervous by the whole thing. We've never seen a voted name win the death match, have we? But what am I to do but see where tomorrow takes us...
[ it honestly makes him very sad to see this. whatever this is taking control of daan, and the sight of it makes him go silent for a long moment before continuing. ]
... Before this week, were you already transformed?
About as real as all my nightmares as of late. They've really finally done it, old boy. Couldn't stop seeing him all day Thursday, and coming to to a bruised, broken body underneath me, my only last memory a desperate bid to darken out those bright, yellow eyes -- and it did nothing in the end.
[ There's a strange jumble here of thoughts, like a burst of protest and hesitation -- ...No, that's not what I wanted -- ]
You don't think so? After all, based on what you all said in regards to Ms. Preaker, it sounds like death itself might be the answer here. I really meant what I said. I'm perfectly amicable, and I do like surviving myself. With Mr. Rondo gone and nobody to hold the sword, I would've been willing to take up the mantle if you felt like freeing any more souls from their unwelcome freeloaders.
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... I'm sorry, that it had to be this way for you, as well as her.
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Oh, yes. Well. Can't lie to your pretty face and say I'm not a little nervous by the whole thing. We've never seen a voted name win the death match, have we? But what am I to do but see where tomorrow takes us...
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They do have a certain predictability, don't they? But one can only take it a day at a time.
[ ... ]
You always had a strange thing about cats, haven't you.
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His weird indistinct face shifts and turns into something else, more like a cat's mask with a permanent wide grin and yellow eyes. ]
I wouldn't say by choice, but can't help it if that's just how you are.
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... Before this week, were you already transformed?
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But Thursday, while I'd been in the familiar pits thinking over my failure, I did remember, a crooning voice and a mask pressed to my fingers.
I'd been just about to say yes.
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this place does love the worst possible moments, does it not? ]
Do you believe that memory to be the truth?
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About as real as all my nightmares as of late. They've really finally done it, old boy. Couldn't stop seeing him all day Thursday, and coming to to a bruised, broken body underneath me, my only last memory a desperate bid to darken out those bright, yellow eyes -- and it did nothing in the end.
Last straw for me. Personally.
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[ Is that what you truly believe? ]
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You don't think so? After all, based on what you all said in regards to Ms. Preaker, it sounds like death itself might be the answer here. I really meant what I said. I'm perfectly amicable, and I do like surviving myself. With Mr. Rondo gone and nobody to hold the sword, I would've been willing to take up the mantle if you felt like freeing any more souls from their unwelcome freeloaders.