[ The answer to Liem's unspoken question is approximately 30%, 20% and 50%. Not that he'd have an easy time figuring that out -- Gen wears his protective layer of derision and scorn as naturally as he breathes, having had years to perfect that prickly suit of armor. Case in point, even as Liem offers him that small morsel of sympathy, his kneejerk reflex is to bristle first. ]
-- I fucking know that.
[ His voice rises to a harsher growl for a moment, just loud enough to startle a passing Veneran citizen; the poor, spooked woman only shoots them a brief glance before hurriedly scuttling off, in no rush to earn the ire of a pair of suspicious strangers lurking in a dark alley. Gen gives an irritable click of the tongue as he ducks his gaze once more, the ember of his cigarette burning cherry-red as he takes a long drag.
His next exhale of smoke comes hard and rushed; he's not even in the mood to savor the taste of it when his nerves are crawling nonstop under the surface of his skin. ]
... I know that. I know it's what we have to do. [ It says something, doesn't it. That Gen feels the need to repeat those words. He knows there are things he has to do, so he'll do them, because that's how he's always had to operate. But even so ... ] ... I'll do it. Just doesn't feel right, either. Even if I'll do it.
[ His movements are restless and twitchy when he rubs at his arm with his other hand, like he kind of wants to scratch his own skin off. Anxiety bubbles in the pit of his stomach, and his next words come a touch jittery. ]
Why're you so calm about this, anyway. You used to kidnapping people to suck dry or something?
no subject
-- I fucking know that.
[ His voice rises to a harsher growl for a moment, just loud enough to startle a passing Veneran citizen; the poor, spooked woman only shoots them a brief glance before hurriedly scuttling off, in no rush to earn the ire of a pair of suspicious strangers lurking in a dark alley. Gen gives an irritable click of the tongue as he ducks his gaze once more, the ember of his cigarette burning cherry-red as he takes a long drag.
His next exhale of smoke comes hard and rushed; he's not even in the mood to savor the taste of it when his nerves are crawling nonstop under the surface of his skin. ]
... I know that. I know it's what we have to do. [ It says something, doesn't it. That Gen feels the need to repeat those words. He knows there are things he has to do, so he'll do them, because that's how he's always had to operate. But even so ... ] ... I'll do it. Just doesn't feel right, either. Even if I'll do it.
[ His movements are restless and twitchy when he rubs at his arm with his other hand, like he kind of wants to scratch his own skin off. Anxiety bubbles in the pit of his stomach, and his next words come a touch jittery. ]
Why're you so calm about this, anyway. You used to kidnapping people to suck dry or something?