HE SITS IN THE CORNER of his cell, waiting for steps to become their owner. @cranetm, in all of his hilarious glory.
Crane will find him crouched, comfortable, looking up at him with eyes that everyone knows should not have been created so wide and sweet. "I've been waiting for you." He tells him, unfolding legs as he slowly rises, a smile revealed from where it used to be tucked. Irises trail - up, then down - examining his temperament, guessing where he keeps the cheap stand-in for fear. Manufactured terror. Most intriguing, most awaited.
He steps to him, but doesn't yet invade his space. "Let's not waste our time. Echo's outside." A dip of head, again, to display those hollows in all of their death and decay. Crane's shadow is cast upon him, but it only seems to serve those irises in their corruption. "Not for you. For the guards. We wouldn't want to be disturbed, would we?" He chokes a giggle - lets it bubble beneath the rest of his words. "I promise there are no cheap tricks here. I'm not the joker." Never. Never. He spits his name out like acid amidst the honey-laced lull of his voice. "No immunity, nothing. Not even a clue. How I act will be a surprise to the two of us. Brand new."
Only then does he find his space, step too close. His voice is lower, almost sing-song like a lullaby. "Bet you've been wanting to do this a long time. Bet you think I'll look so pathetic." Wide smile becomes wider. Too, too wide. Wrong. "I will."
