[ Puck struggles, and a group of overlapping voices grumble in his skull about how this now-harmless prankster had led to the death of those people in the broadcast, and who knows how much more suffering. His Shadows is the loudest of them: it reminds him that there's nothing stopping them from using Puck's blood for this—there's no reason to forgive mischief when it comes at the cost of other lives.
But with Puck safely ("safely") in Vincent's grip, he stifles his reaction down to a harsh glare before he turning his attention back to the lantern. ]
No, it's all right. As you said, it was my mistake.
[ And therefore his responsibility. Though whether one person's blood is really enough to fix this, they'll see.
He's not armed with anything seriously sharp though, so after a moment he turns to Vincent, eyeing the same claws that he's using to keep Puck in place before he extends a hand towards him, almost too conversational in tone considering his request. ]
Though would you mind helping me? [ by... slashing him up a little?? ] No need to hold back.
no subject
But with Puck safely ("safely") in Vincent's grip, he stifles his reaction down to a harsh glare before he turning his attention back to the lantern. ]
No, it's all right. As you said, it was my mistake.
[ And therefore his responsibility. Though whether one person's blood is really enough to fix this, they'll see.
He's not armed with anything seriously sharp though, so after a moment he turns to Vincent, eyeing the same claws that he's using to keep Puck in place before he extends a hand towards him, almost too conversational in tone considering his request. ]
Though would you mind helping me? [ by... slashing him up a little?? ] No need to hold back.
[ He can grab Puck, if that helps. ]