A little absent, but better than silence; he knows Armand dislikes being ignored. He caught one, or he thinks he did— currently trying to ascertain the success of his bait, finding it slippery so far away with so many people. The city's dense population is helpful in one way, murders and disappearances happening all the fucking time, but challenging in another, diffusing targets and making it challenging to be precise.
For him, anyway, Armand seems to have little trouble. Letting him do it would save some time, Daniel will only improve through practice, and he likes hearing the little scratchy sounds of his maker doodling, and the way Armand feeling comfortable enough to be doing that makes him feel.
"I think..."
Squint.
"I think I got one. Yeah."
Maybe?? ... Medium confident. Fairly confident. Seeing clearer now, he thinks his struggle was primarily around instinctively avoiding the initial best candidate, who he has returned to. A woman in her early fifties— he still tends to prey on mostly men, trying to pretend he's too good to stoop to every mortal murderer's usual fare, but like the rest of his guilt, this, too, has ebbed away. The cutthroat executive heads to her car, following a sudden blooming instinct. Daniel isn't the Come to me type, it'll never flow correctly for him. Instead, I have the answer.
no subject
A little absent, but better than silence; he knows Armand dislikes being ignored. He caught one, or he thinks he did— currently trying to ascertain the success of his bait, finding it slippery so far away with so many people. The city's dense population is helpful in one way, murders and disappearances happening all the fucking time, but challenging in another, diffusing targets and making it challenging to be precise.
For him, anyway, Armand seems to have little trouble. Letting him do it would save some time, Daniel will only improve through practice, and he likes hearing the little scratchy sounds of his maker doodling, and the way Armand feeling comfortable enough to be doing that makes him feel.
"I think..."
Squint.
"I think I got one. Yeah."
Maybe?? ... Medium confident. Fairly confident. Seeing clearer now, he thinks his struggle was primarily around instinctively avoiding the initial best candidate, who he has returned to. A woman in her early fifties— he still tends to prey on mostly men, trying to pretend he's too good to stoop to every mortal murderer's usual fare, but like the rest of his guilt, this, too, has ebbed away. The cutthroat executive heads to her car, following a sudden blooming instinct. Daniel isn't the Come to me type, it'll never flow correctly for him. Instead, I have the answer.
"It's nice, these winter hours."
Long nights.