Orlando Pursuing the Fata Morgana | George Frederic Watts | 1846-48
-tries to read Divine Comedy once more as a fervent admirer but drifts off- Mhm… -absently stares at the photos resting on his desks-
To prove a point. You mess with me with some foreign substance, I will retaliate back. As I had no clue who it was, I had to put everyone, save the few who know me well enough who took this into consideration, at risk. At worst, your brain boiled, killing you almost instantly and you’d wind up in respawn.
[a moment of silence snakes through] That’s just wonderful. Charmer, huh? -unconvincing smile-
Of course. You’d be dead not long after. No offense. I take certain aspects of my privacy seriously. Like the other day, some idiot decided they wanted to poke the viper’s nest and shot me some truth serum. I laced the base’ food and drinking supplies with a fast-acting poison in retaliation.
Shame, they were smart enough not to consume anything from the open.
Yeah, I’m sure I would. -figures it best not to argue- What’s the point in doing that? The poison I mean? -quickly looks her up and down- A real shame… Could have gotten the wrong guy anyway, pal.
