[He takes it, a little dumbly, stares down at the knife resting in his palm as though he can't quite fathom what it could be for. Never mind that he's the kind of creature who can tear out your throat with his teeth and laugh whilst doing it, that he's stabbed and shot and maimed and killed more people and other unfortunate test subjects such as himself than he can count.
He looks up at her, eyes hidden yes, but the lines of face make his reluctance clear enough.]
no subject
He looks up at her, eyes hidden yes, but the lines of face make his reluctance clear enough.]
You want me to cut you?
[Yes Giovanni, she does, come on now.]