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[powerhungry]

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SILCO

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[powerhungry]

[ The more he sees of her, the more clearly the shape of danger defines itself within the silhouette of her frame. He thinks of Singed, crippled by love. And he thinks of what he would be without it — his scruples scraped away by singular focus and set free by— not malice, exactly, but enjoyment.

Silco's brow pinches as he looks down at the little capsule, the whole of him otherwise held still. Euphoria is one thing. To addle the mind is another. Finally, deliberately, he reaches out, picking the glass up and raising it to his eye level to inspect the purple smoke that forms in whorls within. ]

Quite the clever concoction, [ he says, suddenly keenly aware that she could have used it on him from the moment she walked into the room. ]

I'll take it as a token of goodwill, then, unless you expect something in return.

[corvere]

[ Placing her handcrafted, illicit substance is the proof of how infinitely dangerous she is. Resourceful and eager to be overlooked, so that she can continue to do what she wants, when she wants and to the degree she wants. As he takes the vial between his fingers, the centers of her irises seem to bleed red for a moment — as if some beast is inhaling, scenting the air.

It subsides readily, and she exhales smoke into the air loosely. Clove-scented and sharp, she stands straight and attentive. ( She absolutely could have used it on him, is the point. The only thing that held her from doing that was a goal she had in mind; without a goal, or structured environment, she'll be bored and indulgent. ) ]

Take it however you like, boss.

[ She purrs, mouth curling a little. ]

There's plenty more to come.