Daud doesn't tense at the absurd way this man speaks so lightly of killing him, those his gaze sharpens, and he feels a burning pulse of irritation. As if this man could. As if he so easily could. It's a ridiculous notion, and one that Daud decides is scarcely worth addressing.
Nor does he shift at the sight of the man's ruined eye. He's seen worse, after all. Has inflicted greater waste on others. True, it's strange to see someone walking around in this fashion. Strange to see somebody survive such a wound, let alone set it out for brief display. And though Daud mostly assumes that the blade remains embedded because moving it would kill the man, there's a part of him that wonders whether Stefano left it there - or planted the blade himself - for the sake of appearances. (It'd fit, somehow. It wouldn't be surprising, dramatic as this bastard is.)
He doesn't point out that he's seen no mention of Stefano's so-called work compared with his own assassinations. Doesn't see why anyone would draw the connections. Daud's work is at once graceful and practical, subtle, and he kills for show only (mostly) when the clients ask for it. While Daud won't deny that there's been a certain grace to Stefano's displays, the overall affect is much more grandiose, and he seems to kill for (does he truly kill for?) the sake of the display itself, and for the sake of his name.
He'd ask about the wound, but he isn't interested. Doesn't need to know more than what's he's already gleaned. And what it tells him - it, combined with the way Stefano speaks of his art, of presenting the world with his vision - is that this man possesses a powerful strength of will. Which is why Daud remains where he is. Which is why he shows no signs of retreat. Which is why this man continues to hold his attention. ]
I don't work well with others.
And I'm not interested in walking with the wretches of this city.
[ Daud's always been more concerned with moving beyond the city. Stepping out from its bounds, twining it into his grasp. ]
no subject
Well.
Daud doesn't tense at the absurd way this man speaks so lightly of killing him, those his gaze sharpens, and he feels a burning pulse of irritation. As if this man could. As if he so easily could. It's a ridiculous notion, and one that Daud decides is scarcely worth addressing.
Nor does he shift at the sight of the man's ruined eye. He's seen worse, after all. Has inflicted greater waste on others. True, it's strange to see someone walking around in this fashion. Strange to see somebody survive such a wound, let alone set it out for brief display. And though Daud mostly assumes that the blade remains embedded because moving it would kill the man, there's a part of him that wonders whether Stefano left it there - or planted the blade himself - for the sake of appearances. (It'd fit, somehow. It wouldn't be surprising, dramatic as this bastard is.)
He doesn't point out that he's seen no mention of Stefano's so-called work compared with his own assassinations. Doesn't see why anyone would draw the connections. Daud's work is at once graceful and practical, subtle, and he kills for show only (mostly) when the clients ask for it. While Daud won't deny that there's been a certain grace to Stefano's displays, the overall affect is much more grandiose, and he seems to kill for (does he truly kill for?) the sake of the display itself, and for the sake of his name.
He'd ask about the wound, but he isn't interested. Doesn't need to know more than what's he's already gleaned. And what it tells him - it, combined with the way Stefano speaks of his art, of presenting the world with his vision - is that this man possesses a powerful strength of will. Which is why Daud remains where he is. Which is why he shows no signs of retreat. Which is why this man continues to hold his attention. ]
I don't work well with others.
And I'm not interested in walking with the wretches of this city.
[ Daud's always been more concerned with moving beyond the city. Stepping out from its bounds, twining it into his grasp. ]