It's weird being this angry. To be fair, he's always had a layer of petty anger that he wears a little bit like a hat but this was way deeper. It was the kind of anger he spent a lot of exhausting time fighting, because he keeps trying to tell himself that he doesn't care about the supernatural world and he doesn't want to be involved. But the truth is, he can't not be.
He's not Midnight anymore (his last tie had been Soeki and Soeki had left so long ago now, it was a wonder he'd been hanging on this long), but he still pays attention to the witches who had given him a home. It's bad enough when there's talk of them teaming up with the vampires, but worse still once the news emerges about Abigail.
It's obvious to anyone who has ever played a game of Risk (or anyone, really), what the next step is here. He should let it be. But neither Redbright nor the Vampires deserve this territory Soeki and his friends had kept for themselves.
So he goes to Eames. Maybe he hadn't been the best of help during his last claim, but he'd been there and that (he hoped) was going to gain him a couple points, if he couldn't earn them somehow else.
"She's going to strike, and everyone knows it," he's explaining over a cup of tea. At least he's managed to get a captive audience here. "All that territory, concentrated like that? It's not good for anyone." He's surprisingly calm, detached. Like he's delivering a statement instead of talking about something he actually cares very deeply about. But rationality, at the very least, has always been something he's been good at projecting.
vague wildcard gestures
He's not Midnight anymore (his last tie had been Soeki and Soeki had left so long ago now, it was a wonder he'd been hanging on this long), but he still pays attention to the witches who had given him a home. It's bad enough when there's talk of them teaming up with the vampires, but worse still once the news emerges about Abigail.
It's obvious to anyone who has ever played a game of Risk (or anyone, really), what the next step is here. He should let it be. But neither Redbright nor the Vampires deserve this territory Soeki and his friends had kept for themselves.
So he goes to Eames. Maybe he hadn't been the best of help during his last claim, but he'd been there and that (he hoped) was going to gain him a couple points, if he couldn't earn them somehow else.
"She's going to strike, and everyone knows it," he's explaining over a cup of tea. At least he's managed to get a captive audience here. "All that territory, concentrated like that? It's not good for anyone." He's surprisingly calm, detached. Like he's delivering a statement instead of talking about something he actually cares very deeply about. But rationality, at the very least, has always been something he's been good at projecting.