[ Kostos is thoroughly distracted. First by our pact: he has to reach back through twenty years and through the shroud hung around other memories in close proximity, and while doing that he frowns at Nikos like he's learned some strange fourth language. When he does find the memory in the haze, though—the blood, the bruises, the distant crying, the somber drama (they have not changed all that much) of the handshake—he exhales the sort of exhale that might have been a laugh if he were another person in another situation. The pact.
But then, a threat.
It is only fair, of course. Only a return volley of something Kostos started. But Kostos' face still crumples with horror at the thought of a gift parade. He even covers his eyes so he can massage his temples one-handed. He misses Nikos' sleight of hand entirely. Well played. ]
That is, [ he says, and lowers his hand, ] disproportionate retaliation. Escalation.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2018-02-12 01:01 am (UTC)But then, a threat.
It is only fair, of course. Only a return volley of something Kostos started. But Kostos' face still crumples with horror at the thought of a gift parade. He even covers his eyes so he can massage his temples one-handed. He misses Nikos' sleight of hand entirely. Well played. ]
That is, [ he says, and lowers his hand, ] disproportionate retaliation. Escalation.