[ He doesn't look down at the gun. (He acts as if she isn't holding it at all, as if this conversation weren't loaded with years and years and years of history and lies.) There's a smile that sits on his features, the kind the press cameras never see because it speaks too closely to the bitterness and meanness that he's capable of — it's practically a sneer. And that'd never sell, would it? ]
It's just a pity Corben didn't know what he was doing. Can't rely on anyone these days — you want a job done, you have to do it yourself.
[ His teeth bare when he laughs, still holding her gaze across the table. She's right on one count — Lex Luthor would never make a mistake, at least not when it comes to the travails of human life. When it comes to the supernatural, it's a different kettle, but he's learned his lesson, there. Men have to take care if they intend to fight with gods. His little sister is nothing so lofty. ]
Alright, I'll admit— it was an overreaction. But you always did know how to get under my skin. [ His hand rises and falls, fingers drumming over the tabletop. ] Family, right?
[ Then, silence, again. His head cocks as he looks at her. (He wonders if he's jealous of what she's done with the family company. If he wishes he'd taken in the direction she had, or if it's some rage to do with the ins and outs of inheritance, of family, of blood.) Finally, his gaze drops, and he gestures at the pistol. ]
If you're going to use that, go ahead. If not, put that shit away. [ The curse drops sharply from his tongue, an abrupt cut through the veneer he always wears. ] You shouldn't be playing with toys like that.
no subject
[ He doesn't look down at the gun. (He acts as if she isn't holding it at all, as if this conversation weren't loaded with years and years and years of history and lies.) There's a smile that sits on his features, the kind the press cameras never see because it speaks too closely to the bitterness and meanness that he's capable of — it's practically a sneer. And that'd never sell, would it? ]
It's just a pity Corben didn't know what he was doing. Can't rely on anyone these days — you want a job done, you have to do it yourself.
[ His teeth bare when he laughs, still holding her gaze across the table. She's right on one count — Lex Luthor would never make a mistake, at least not when it comes to the travails of human life. When it comes to the supernatural, it's a different kettle, but he's learned his lesson, there. Men have to take care if they intend to fight with gods. His little sister is nothing so lofty. ]
Alright, I'll admit— it was an overreaction. But you always did know how to get under my skin. [ His hand rises and falls, fingers drumming over the tabletop. ] Family, right?
[ Then, silence, again. His head cocks as he looks at her. (He wonders if he's jealous of what she's done with the family company. If he wishes he'd taken in the direction she had, or if it's some rage to do with the ins and outs of inheritance, of family, of blood.) Finally, his gaze drops, and he gestures at the pistol. ]
If you're going to use that, go ahead. If not, put that shit away. [ The curse drops sharply from his tongue, an abrupt cut through the veneer he always wears. ] You shouldn't be playing with toys like that.