I seem to remember I sliced you with finesse enough. Or did those markings on your chin not count? Though it has been a while . . . perhaps we need another bout soon, just so I can put you in your place. You have gotten too used to being superior, my vampire.
[He cannot get riled, not in public— certainly not the way he wants to be, anyway. But the tavern is dim and the table provides cover; he can at least get away with a bit of filth before he has to stop.]
But if it is finesse you desire . . .
I could pin them to the floor with a blade through their stomachs, letting you watch as they writhe upon their own impalement, ready and waiting for you to drink their fill. Or I could slice into them a hundred times with my gauntlets, and let you watch as they bleed out for you.
Or do you want something more delicate? I suppose I could use those pretty daggers of yours, if you truly wished.
no subject
[He cannot get riled, not in public— certainly not the way he wants to be, anyway. But the tavern is dim and the table provides cover; he can at least get away with a bit of filth before he has to stop.]
But if it is finesse you desire . . .
I could pin them to the floor with a blade through their stomachs, letting you watch as they writhe upon their own impalement, ready and waiting for you to drink their fill. Or I could slice into them a hundred times with my gauntlets, and let you watch as they bleed out for you.
Or do you want something more delicate? I suppose I could use those pretty daggers of yours, if you truly wished.