This Hunter hunts people. Cassius has basically said as much, what with the oh, plenty of people here, they won't go hungry business. Cassius gets his food from this Hunter.
Oh.
Oh dear.
Oh yes, everyone, good news! The strange worm abomination, as you all call it, was rather polite about needing human flesh to supplement his diet. Probably for all the maggots inside him. Hungry little buggers, haha. Anyhow, can I borrow a corpse or two? He hears the strained tones of his own phantom voice behind his eyes, now, imagines himself standing in front of a firing squad of other department heads and higher ups trying to explain that the new stowaway that none of them trust only needs a little human flesh now and again. How they'll all look at him in the moments before they decide he's absolutely biased or absolutely insane, and then start plotting how to get rid of Cassius. God. God.
Hugh lets on to none of this. Tries not to, anyway, only folding his arms and tilting his head, trying to fight the anxious twitch of his mouth.
"Oh. I see. We should - find them soon. Then. Shouldn't we?" His foot is tapping a crooked staccato on beaten metal flooring. They tore up the carpet ages ago. Too unhygienic in the long run. Hugh brings a hand up to rub absently at his mouth, glancing off towards the glace for just a split second before tearing himself back. "Do you have any ideas? I'm afraid the intercom system has been broken for ages, so. No paging them to the front desk, I'm afraid."
Check check, one-two. Hunter to the front, come collect your worm boy.
no subject
This Hunter hunts people. Cassius has basically said as much, what with the oh, plenty of people here, they won't go hungry business. Cassius gets his food from this Hunter.
Oh.
Oh dear.
Oh yes, everyone, good news! The strange worm abomination, as you all call it, was rather polite about needing human flesh to supplement his diet. Probably for all the maggots inside him. Hungry little buggers, haha. Anyhow, can I borrow a corpse or two? He hears the strained tones of his own phantom voice behind his eyes, now, imagines himself standing in front of a firing squad of other department heads and higher ups trying to explain that the new stowaway that none of them trust only needs a little human flesh now and again. How they'll all look at him in the moments before they decide he's absolutely biased or absolutely insane, and then start plotting how to get rid of Cassius. God. God.
Hugh lets on to none of this. Tries not to, anyway, only folding his arms and tilting his head, trying to fight the anxious twitch of his mouth.
"Oh. I see. We should - find them soon. Then. Shouldn't we?" His foot is tapping a crooked staccato on beaten metal flooring. They tore up the carpet ages ago. Too unhygienic in the long run. Hugh brings a hand up to rub absently at his mouth, glancing off towards the glace for just a split second before tearing himself back. "Do you have any ideas? I'm afraid the intercom system has been broken for ages, so. No paging them to the front desk, I'm afraid."
Check check, one-two. Hunter to the front, come collect your worm boy.
Christ.