Re: Cass & Mat: the Quiet Home
Well, our clever Cassie is correct to assume that the switchblade before her is, by nature, mercurial in temperament. The appraisal would, at least, be historically accurate. Lately however, she’s a touch more wary of caprice, devout. Studious, the way anybody might be after lingering in hell as long as she had. Being nice would help her go back to that first place, the long quiet, the velvet black, wouldn’t it? Because who the fuck should be forced to take pills that make them feel like shit? Especially, someone who is clearly not sick! In her expert opinion, at least.
A grin veered, arched up. She followed. Her eyes caught in the circular, dark vaults of half-sphered cameras plugged up, stuck on the ceilings. It wouldn’t matter anyway. It wasn’t as if what they were doing was obvious, or illegal. If anything, that stupid director would be blamed for listening, right? Nobody cares about this shit. “Is this idiot even going to be in there?” she asked, but the answer was obvious. The door was open. And there he was. Strangely, looked a little familiar, but...