[ That's quite the face, isn't? Carver tsks and steps forward, almost into range. Crowding the other man just to see what fucking happens, what it gets him, how it changes the field. He doesn't have a blade but that's okay; he's gotten through worse with less. Pope wouldn't have chosen him if he couldn't do this much. And maybe it's come time to prove that once again.
There's a chance this isn't real, Carver knows. He struggles with the real, sometimes. When the ghosts crowd up in his corners. But a fight?
That's pure. And that'd be real enough, wouldn't it? ]
You're just...interesting, aren't you? [ he drawls, eyes bright. Loud and aggressive to make people think he's slow, that he can't move fast on his feet, all sound and fury to distract and get them to overcommit to the first move. Carver so rarely strikes first. It's so much more fun to goad the enemy into doing that for him. ]
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There's a chance this isn't real, Carver knows. He struggles with the real, sometimes. When the ghosts crowd up in his corners. But a fight?
That's pure. And that'd be real enough, wouldn't it? ]
You're just...interesting, aren't you? [ he drawls, eyes bright. Loud and aggressive to make people think he's slow, that he can't move fast on his feet, all sound and fury to distract and get them to overcommit to the first move. Carver so rarely strikes first. It's so much more fun to goad the enemy into doing that for him. ]