Lotte didn't move, but her gaze and chin followed after him as he moved back to the bed and sat down on it, looking more animated than ever.
"Don't tease me. I might have cut a man down for less. You don't really know, do you?" Lotte hummed, looking back down at the cellar.
Had Alastor ever actually asked her if she'd killed someone? She couldn't rightly remember, at this late hour after all the excitement of the evening and the several shots of whiskey they'd shared this evening. Maybe he had. Either way, the answer was the same.
She hadn't, but not for lack of wanting.
The only thing that had stopped her was the knowledge that she wasn't likely to escape retribution out here. If Alastor hadn't come, if she'd failed to pull up anything at all... in a few years, who knows what lengths she'd have gone to, to take back some of her power. Lotte wasn't sure she had many limits, if pushed to the brink. She certainly wouldn't spare a single crumb of pity for the type of people she'd been subject to here.
"Wouldn't I?" Finally, she pushed herself up and closed the cellar up, scooping the jars of preserves and her blood into her arms and carrying them over to the table. She wrapped each in some old newspaper she had stashed in a drawer before tucking them into her bag.... her eyes wandered to the sickle, but she left it out.
Just in case anyone came a'knocking for Alastor during the night.
"Sickles are very messy, though, you know. Would be an awful lot of cleanup to worry about in a city. Out here, the animals or the storms handle that for you. If you even find the body." Lotte sat herself in a chair and took hold of the dress Alastor had fixed once again, laying it out in her lap and brushing her fingers over it.
"Do you plan on killing people, once we're there? Making more deals?" She thought about how the red hadn't fully seeped out of his eyes when they'd been up close, how clear it was that this just a skin stretched over the thing that was Alastor, still nearly bursting at the seams. Lotte didn't rightly care if he did either, particularly, but she was curious what plans he had for himself now that he was free.
no subject
Lotte didn't move, but her gaze and chin followed after him as he moved back to the bed and sat down on it, looking more animated than ever.
"Don't tease me. I might have cut a man down for less. You don't really know, do you?" Lotte hummed, looking back down at the cellar.
Had Alastor ever actually asked her if she'd killed someone? She couldn't rightly remember, at this late hour after all the excitement of the evening and the several shots of whiskey they'd shared this evening. Maybe he had. Either way, the answer was the same.
She hadn't, but not for lack of wanting.
The only thing that had stopped her was the knowledge that she wasn't likely to escape retribution out here. If Alastor hadn't come, if she'd failed to pull up anything at all... in a few years, who knows what lengths she'd have gone to, to take back some of her power. Lotte wasn't sure she had many limits, if pushed to the brink. She certainly wouldn't spare a single crumb of pity for the type of people she'd been subject to here.
"Wouldn't I?" Finally, she pushed herself up and closed the cellar up, scooping the jars of preserves and her blood into her arms and carrying them over to the table. She wrapped each in some old newspaper she had stashed in a drawer before tucking them into her bag.... her eyes wandered to the sickle, but she left it out.
Just in case anyone came a'knocking for Alastor during the night.
"Sickles are very messy, though, you know. Would be an awful lot of cleanup to worry about in a city. Out here, the animals or the storms handle that for you. If you even find the body." Lotte sat herself in a chair and took hold of the dress Alastor had fixed once again, laying it out in her lap and brushing her fingers over it.
"Do you plan on killing people, once we're there? Making more deals?" She thought about how the red hadn't fully seeped out of his eyes when they'd been up close, how clear it was that this just a skin stretched over the thing that was Alastor, still nearly bursting at the seams. Lotte didn't rightly care if he did either, particularly, but she was curious what plans he had for himself now that he was free.