( There's a contemplative moment on his end where he turns the knife over in his hand a few times. He could make a few off-hand comments about it, but as he's gotten older he's also gotten a little more pessimistic about life in general. The first thought that comes to mind is more like that's gotta be goddamn exhausting. He can't really imagine it. Hell, he can't see himself living another five years half the time, but another - what - sixty? Seventy?
After a beat, he throws his knife — no spin, dead center black. Thank god. )
Yeah, well. I did a forty-year stint in hell, so let's call it twice-ish. Drink.
( Not exactly an abundance of silver linings about that whole thing, so when he can use it as bragging rights for something? Damn right he'll take it. )
no subject
After a beat, he throws his knife — no spin, dead center black. Thank god. )
Yeah, well. I did a forty-year stint in hell, so let's call it twice-ish. Drink.
( Not exactly an abundance of silver linings about that whole thing, so when he can use it as bragging rights for something? Damn right he'll take it. )