[The statement brings a small approving smile on Richard's lips. It's true that they carry the weight of their past with them. Their victories, sorrows born from their previous choices carved into their bodies in form of scars. Are there some things that Richard wishes he could change if he had the ability to turn back time? Absolutely. But he had also come to accept the past - it was what made him who he was today. No need to dwelve in the what-ifs and what-could've-beens.
He, too, preferred to look forward to the future.
Richard lowers his gaze to look at his hand in Silco's. He nods briefly, as a sign that he understood Silco's words and what he was getting into. And with just that, he heard the the "click" as the trigger was pulled.
The needle pierced through the layers of his skin, plunging into his muscle. The pain was sharp, just like Silco had warned him, and enough to make Richard jolt. It reminded him vaguely from the gratin pain that would come when one hits the nerves on their elbow on the corner of a table or so. Richard grits his teeth together and hisses as the pain rushes through his body, making him spasm little. His hand twitches, and Richard tries to close his hand in a fist but fails as the muscles do not want to listen to him.
But then it was over, just as fast as it had began. The pain fades, leaning a faint itching sensation where the needle had pierced the skin. There is a similar purple tear oozing out of puncture wound. Richard brings his other hand to rub at the spot, feeling near immediate relief.
It hadn't been too bad of an experience. But he can only imagine what it'd be like to have it injected on something as sensitive as an eye.]
Your daughter's blood had the same color as this one. [He states. Which could only mean that she, too, needed to take the same medicine. Except in much larger doses. Maybe more than she should. The wine had driven George mad, so who knows? Maybe abusing this was what made Jinx the way she was.
Well whatever, Richard wasn't in the mood of thinking about here any more than that.]
no subject
He, too, preferred to look forward to the future.
Richard lowers his gaze to look at his hand in Silco's. He nods briefly, as a sign that he understood Silco's words and what he was getting into. And with just that, he heard the the "click" as the trigger was pulled.
The needle pierced through the layers of his skin, plunging into his muscle. The pain was sharp, just like Silco had warned him, and enough to make Richard jolt. It reminded him vaguely from the gratin pain that would come when one hits the nerves on their elbow on the corner of a table or so. Richard grits his teeth together and hisses as the pain rushes through his body, making him spasm little. His hand twitches, and Richard tries to close his hand in a fist but fails as the muscles do not want to listen to him.
But then it was over, just as fast as it had began. The pain fades, leaning a faint itching sensation where the needle had pierced the skin. There is a similar purple tear oozing out of puncture wound. Richard brings his other hand to rub at the spot, feeling near immediate relief.
It hadn't been too bad of an experience. But he can only imagine what it'd be like to have it injected on something as sensitive as an eye.]
Your daughter's blood had the same color as this one. [He states. Which could only mean that she, too, needed to take the same medicine. Except in much larger doses. Maybe more than she should. The wine had driven George mad, so who knows? Maybe abusing this was what made Jinx the way she was.
Well whatever, Richard wasn't in the mood of thinking about here any more than that.]
What is it called?