NERON
show me how defenceless you really are
”I have exquisite taste,” Neron informs the other man with a slow, cat-like smile, lifting his glass of wine in a toast before taking a sip. It’s blunted, like the taste of everything these days, but the little that the Hailstorm does get is a reminder of some of the best wine he’s ever tried in Halo. ”It isn’t a place that many people stop to pitch a tent,” he remarks of the place, smirking his understanding at the stranger’s limited time in the Citadel.
”A nice treat,” he echoes, his lips wrapping delicately around the words, and the smile he offers this time is edged with fangs. ”Surprises and treats aside, I hope you found what you were looking for.” Straightening up, Neron slips a hand into his pocket, drawing a watch out on a long chain.
Clicking it open, he checks the time, apparently, for a moment or so, before slipping it away again and casting his gaze over the patrons beyond them. ”It ought to be quiet for a while now, at least.”
”A nice treat,” he echoes, his lips wrapping delicately around the words, and the smile he offers this time is edged with fangs. ”Surprises and treats aside, I hope you found what you were looking for.” Straightening up, Neron slips a hand into his pocket, drawing a watch out on a long chain.
Clicking it open, he checks the time, apparently, for a moment or so, before slipping it away again and casting his gaze over the patrons beyond them. ”It ought to be quiet for a while now, at least.”
