[He'd been prepared to lash out with some half assed offense strategy when she gestured for the guards, wrists straining at the cuffs, digging into his skin, uselessly, but-
In seconds his body freezes and he's eye to eye with a tray of edibles just for him. He's silent, letting this woman's voice wash over him for all of about five seconds before the biggest grin breaks out on his face, one of those 100 watt ones, all sorts of pleased (and that's dangerous) and aimed right at Kara]
Thanks a lot, lady! Maybe you're alright afterall. I'll use my good manners just for you.
[Then he proceeds to tuck in with gusto! This doesn't mean he trusts her, definitely has Getting The Fuck Outta Here at the top of his list of things to do, but she isn't half bad. Maybe. She's not stupid, god no, and understands the logic that yes, give prisoner a little crumb and it'll go a long way. There are some commanders and leaders that will callously brush that off and pound answers out of people with no thought to humanity at all. And he can dig the fact that this lady isn't taking that approach. She's right, though, the food is not only amazing warm fuel in his belly but a great stall tactic! He's decided to be as vague as possible but not act dumb to all.
So he'll damn near lick the tray and at the mention of use on this thing, he chews, swallows, then manages to reply without spraying too many crumbs]
I hope I've got a say in avoidin' being thrown ass first out an airlock, with my usefulness bein' up in the air and all. I'm good with my hands and I'm a fast learner. Plus who wouldn't want to look at this smiling face when they've had a long shift?
[He grins, framing his face with one hand.
I can also pilot just about anything, I'm good with firearms, have been labeled a terrorist and call myself the God of Death. When do I start work that won't have you thinking I'm tinkering with your operations here? Yeah, that'd go down great. He continues to stuff his face, and in between bites, asks:]
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3/2/14 08:46 (UTC)In seconds his body freezes and he's eye to eye with a tray of edibles just for him. He's silent, letting this woman's voice wash over him for all of about five seconds before the biggest grin breaks out on his face, one of those 100 watt ones, all sorts of pleased (and that's dangerous) and aimed right at Kara]
Thanks a lot, lady! Maybe you're alright afterall. I'll use my good manners just for you.
[Then he proceeds to tuck in with gusto! This doesn't mean he trusts her, definitely has Getting The Fuck Outta Here at the top of his list of things to do, but she isn't half bad. Maybe. She's not stupid, god no, and understands the logic that yes, give prisoner a little crumb and it'll go a long way. There are some commanders and leaders that will callously brush that off and pound answers out of people with no thought to humanity at all. And he can dig the fact that this lady isn't taking that approach. She's right, though, the food is not only amazing warm fuel in his belly but a great stall tactic! He's decided to be as vague as possible but not act dumb to all.
So he'll damn near lick the tray and at the mention of use on this thing, he chews, swallows, then manages to reply without spraying too many crumbs]
I hope I've got a say in avoidin' being thrown ass first out an airlock, with my usefulness bein' up in the air and all. I'm good with my hands and I'm a fast learner. Plus who wouldn't want to look at this smiling face when they've had a long shift?
[He grins, framing his face with one hand.
I can also pilot just about anything, I'm good with firearms, have been labeled a terrorist and call myself the God of Death. When do I start work that won't have you thinking I'm tinkering with your operations here? Yeah, that'd go down great. He continues to stuff his face, and in between bites, asks:]
So what now?