Skipper's laugh was more nerves than humor, but he played it off smooth, possibly seductively, as if the barrel of a shotgun wasn't pressed to his lower belly.
Gal stood, no longer perched in his lap, her eyes burning and her mouth a curved line, so simple yet hinting at the beginning of a bitter, hateful sneer. Her heels clicked when she stepped, toe-heel, toe-heel.
Please, please put one foot on the chair like in the stories--
One foot, heel and all, made its place on the chair he sat on, rather aggressively letting him know his chair he sat on wasn't his-- she'd move him if she wanted. Man-spreading was no longer an option, but a necessity at this point.
And he chuckled, rather intimidated, but soon cleared his throat, looking away and trying not to look at the heeled shoe that stayed between his knees on the chair. Her amused hum didn't help the matter at all. Nor did the weight at his lower belly-- though the fact that it was a firearm greatly kept his tongue tied and heat levels low.
"I swear to god, I will shoot your nuts off, merchant.. I--I'll.." she swore viciously under her breath, leaning more on to the chair and with the shotgun-- Skipper grunted.
"I--" Gal sneered completely, eyes wild, hair so frizzy and puffy, "I'm threatening to shoot you. And you're talking back."
Skipper felt a laugh bubble back up, almost as if hysterical, but fought it as he watched her face. Maybe any of the options here meant death.
"What? Don't fancy a sharp tongue?"
Another jab-- he coughed and grunted when she pushed the shotgun directly at his groin, eyes flaring with anger.
"Okay- okay, sorry. Sorry." He wasn't. "I just get the feeling' that you're not wanting anymore blood on your hands in this hell house."
Gal allowed him the slightest amount of comfort from the gun's barrel.
Skip continued, face still serious, "You wanna buy some plasmids to help kill spl--"
She jabbed the barrel into him again, jaw locked, "Why do I even fucking BOTHER?"
His groin was sore, so so incredibly sore, from such an encounter with his own shotgun-- but he knew what he needed to know. She needed help and she didn't want more bloodshed than she'd already seen today.
