/ Yeah, Nestan doesn’t entirely care if her experiments kill or severely harm people ( Marin especially ) so. . . she’s not a good person.
Everyone’s a guinea pig.
Quickly places a modified type-1 antipersonnel grenade to @irondxvil ’s centre mid waist.
She’s certain it won’t kill him. Basic prototype, after all.
… 75% certain, re-engineering tech always has its problems.
( 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴. )
other things may be better suited for relieving the pain, if it’s at the base of your neck, massage and heat offer relief. at the front, prime hydration and a cold compress. yada-yada. i was simply curious.
painkillers may not always work.
No, I don't miss myself. I don't remember who I am.
The emptiness inside is more like a black hole or something—impossible to fill.
What do you mean?
Why do you need all this information anyway?
If it erases you, then the desire for a what if makes complete sense. Do you miss yourself?
Empty inside?
My, how do you view yourself?
And yes, curious. To question is to learn.
Oh, darling, so you don't know? This lifestyle erases your personality. After a while, nothing remains but a nickname and a list of accomplishments for which the secret services are looking for you. But yes. It's almost a "what if."
And you're very curious.
I meant in the sense you put behind the truth of yourself and feel something new, as if you are acting. Masked.
You are you, as you are, but you step into a new thought, a new idea. A what if, almost.
Not new. Different. They're two different things. It would be new if I'd quit my career at some point, started a family, and gone to the Alps to herd sheep. And it would be different if I'd never been involved in the criminal world to begin with.
Uh-huh. So, the lipstick makes you feel entirely new then? As if you’re living a new life? A woman with something to lose?
I hold no judgement, simply curiosity. The feminine feels unique, sometimes like a mask.
It's not about winning or losing. I'm not playing poker. It's about survival. And when you survive only to hide or fight again, money is no longer a sufficient reason to fight for that survival.
— Lips pull into a thin line. He worked well with her despite their odds. Yet their working partnership was distracting, in more ways than one.
“ Don’t annoy me. ”
Primed. Ready. Useful. The Marin Kozak way. An almost flawless soldier if it wasn’t for his voice. Realistically, if he kept his mouth shut he would be a prime cut of perfection. Humans refused perfection though, and thus, she had to live with the flaws —
— of his grating personality. They clashed. Two pieces of flint scraping together too close to natural gas. An explosion waiting to happen. He grinds her gears and she makes his life hard.
“ I don’t remember requesting you. ”
In fact, she specifically asked for anyone but. —