R's entrance isn't heavy on the theatrics like Karis's: he doesn't have a gravelly voice to threaten with, his teeth aren't Boney-sharp like hers and his eyes don't glow. Watching Karis in her element, his eyes sliding to her back as they move in as a group, R thinks he's okay with that. If this is how they roll in other hives, R's starting to think the way his murders people isn't that bad after all. It's bad, he's not saying suddenly he's okay with killing folks and eating them. It's not that. But there's a difference between old-fashioned murder and then murder with a huge side of mind games to top it off. R wasn't killed yesterday. He remembers that conversation with Karis before the Arena.
She wants her food scared.
R realizes after a moment that his mouth is doing things on its own. His teeth are exposed, lips peeled back in a snarl. Wait, not a snarl. Scratch that. It's a grimace. And he's aiming it at Karis's back.
Let's just get it over with, he thinks, starting to translate that to actual words.
"Ghhgghl...krrk..." is what comes out, a loud, hungry moan punctuating Karis's threat.
Dammit.
R's eye adjusts to the darkness inside the restaurant as he shuffles around Karis to fan out, almost bumping shoulders with Air as they form a wall before the one exit. More overturned tables and chairs, counters that might've once held food, cashier registers that haven't actually served people in who knows how long. And then, like a gasp of fresh air, a Living man is standing before them with his stench overpowering in the enclosed space and firing up all of R's dead cells. R inhales despite himself. The grimace at Karis morphs into a hungry snarl as he daydreams about tackling the Tribute to the floor and sinking his teeth into his soft, warm, beating neck.
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She wants her food scared.
R realizes after a moment that his mouth is doing things on its own. His teeth are exposed, lips peeled back in a snarl. Wait, not a snarl. Scratch that. It's a grimace. And he's aiming it at Karis's back.
Let's just get it over with, he thinks, starting to translate that to actual words.
"Ghhgghl...krrk..." is what comes out, a loud, hungry moan punctuating Karis's threat.
Dammit.
R's eye adjusts to the darkness inside the restaurant as he shuffles around Karis to fan out, almost bumping shoulders with Air as they form a wall before the one exit. More overturned tables and chairs, counters that might've once held food, cashier registers that haven't actually served people in who knows how long. And then, like a gasp of fresh air, a Living man is standing before them with his stench overpowering in the enclosed space and firing up all of R's dead cells. R inhales despite himself. The grimace at Karis morphs into a hungry snarl as he daydreams about tackling the Tribute to the floor and sinking his teeth into his soft, warm, beating neck.