He's not sure his death will be a mystery. Probably gonna die on these sands of something he did, bleeding out on the warm grit. It's fine, that's how he wants to go. How he deserves to go. He is no hero and not fit to be buried. He kind of chuckles, nodding slowly as she speaks. "The Ark huh? Sounds about right." He's heard of it, maybe even worked with them. Not directly of course but still. He's at least aware of them. But that means she's cut from a similar cloth as him.
The look she gives him makes his face fall but only for a second before he's rolling his eyes. She's right, he can't dance. Not to save his god damn life. Actually, he has very little rhythm outside of fighting and fucking. Just not his thing really. He clicks his tongue, "Rude." Not that she's actually being rude but.. She is.
"Fine. To spare your delicate eyes from the atrocity that is my dancing, I really do whatever. A little smuggling. A little fighting. Whatever puts food on the table. Surely not all that different from you." Maybe a little pickpocketing..
The look she gives him makes his face fall but only for a second before he's rolling his eyes. She's right, he can't dance. Not to save his god damn life. Actually, he has very little rhythm outside of fighting and fucking. Just not his thing really. He clicks his tongue, "Rude." Not that she's actually being rude but.. She is.
"Fine. To spare your delicate eyes from the atrocity that is my dancing, I really do whatever. A little smuggling. A little fighting. Whatever puts food on the table. Surely not all that different from you." Maybe a little pickpocketing..
