[ His voice is a low growl. And then he amends that: ]
You should go.
[ But Byerly is staying. With hard eyes and a back curved like a feral cat contemplating attack, he stays, and watches. If he'd been presented with the choice, he wouldn't have; if he'd been offered the choice to either watch Louis devastating Prior or not, he'd have opted out. But Byerly has never been able to look away from what's in front of his face. He's lied and cheated and debased himself in the pursuit of truth, and truth for the service of justice. Here, before him, he has a view into just what this petty monster has done to the splendid Prior; how could he not bear witness to that crime?
His hatred is a cold thing. By the time Louis whines about his love for Prior, Byerly's face is cold as anything. Cold as outer space. His voice is steady, now, still soft. ]
That coward should have slit his own belly after this. Or had it slit for him.
no subject
[ His voice is a low growl. And then he amends that: ]
You should go.
[ But Byerly is staying. With hard eyes and a back curved like a feral cat contemplating attack, he stays, and watches. If he'd been presented with the choice, he wouldn't have; if he'd been offered the choice to either watch Louis devastating Prior or not, he'd have opted out. But Byerly has never been able to look away from what's in front of his face. He's lied and cheated and debased himself in the pursuit of truth, and truth for the service of justice. Here, before him, he has a view into just what this petty monster has done to the splendid Prior; how could he not bear witness to that crime?
His hatred is a cold thing. By the time Louis whines about his love for Prior, Byerly's face is cold as anything. Cold as outer space. His voice is steady, now, still soft. ]
That coward should have slit his own belly after this. Or had it slit for him.