"Why didn’t you just shoot him, man?"
There’s a sudden warmth accompanied by the mans words. His breath a little too close to the nape of her neck. It sets off an army of goosebumps upon her artificial hyde. But she is still. Unmoving. Motionless; like a gargoyle sat atop a building she watches the city below her. The human race scurry around like cattle. Nothing more than pieces of glorified meat. Despite Ivon awaiting some sort of response, verbal, or physical Violet takes a long drawn minute to ponder. What difference does it make how their world ends? Plague, war, famine..? Morality doesn’t even come into it. It’s natural selection, she thinks. She’s just there to speed up the process. “Because, Ivon. That would be too easy. For me and for him.” she finally answers. “besides this isn’t a business call…” she pauses, finally tearing her gaze away from the street below. Violet turns to him with hooded eyes and a bleeding smile. “this is… personal” there’s a slight emphasis on the word personal. “so I’m not going to sit up here with you breathing down my neck whilst I pick off this asshole from afar” It’s not that she can’t make the shot, it’s more that she doesn’t want to. Violet doesn’t want it to end quickly, doesn’t want a bullet to steal away the life of the man meddling with things he doesn’t truly understand. She wants to get her hands dirty. Filthy. Covered in red. She wants to watch the life leave his eyes, but more importantly, she wants to see the panic on his face beforehand. Ivon should understand. He shouldn’t question her. It makes her angry. “Let this be a lesson to you Ivon, to everyone... threaten me or my family--” it’s something she never thought she’d have the chance to say (let alone have) but the words slip from her mouth like they were made for her “--and I will have your heart.”
