"Nothing is funny. I recognize your opinions, even if I do not agree with them." Evan didn’t wish to give further explanation for his laugh, and fell silent, visibly vexed. He didn’t relax, as she continued, and his brow furrowed for a time. Her question upset him more, but he temporarily ignored it. "I doubt you want to cause them the pain. It likely is a bad coincidence for you...nothing to blame yourself for. Everyone knows relationships are some of the noblest things. I wouldn't care what they think if I were you." That is why I lack them, he supposed, as the words sobered him. He looked back to Fleur, once his neck began to ache from craning up so long.
"It is impossible for me to be happy for long. I want to have fun and enjoy the thrill of duels and fights," he admitted, "And have wanted to hurt people many times, and I still wish to harm some and worse." Moody still had to die, obviously. There were reasons behind so many of the conflicts, but he usually was the cause behind them. Evan believed nothing of her universe, but he did not judge it. There was no plan to him, only disorder and what the individual made of their life. "I killed my plan, if it ever existed, and I am not creative or care enough to make a proper new one. People here have morals and know better than to speak to or know me." He took a step toward Fleur, intently staring into her eyes, but it softened. "You speak to me out of charity and only because I still stand here and approached you. I frighten you? I don't mean to." The drinking had made him far too gabby for his own liking, but perhaps it was needed.
Moralities meant nothing to the insects. Too bad he had not been born one. "Yes, mythology was very romantic as a child." Perhaps had his parents hired a skilled astrologer, they would have seen what fate awaited their only son. Would they have helped him, or reconciled and had another child to desperately preserve the line?
"You give no credit to the male scorpion and he does not appreciate it," Evan reproached. "He dances the promenade à deux, sometimes eaten, but the skilled one knows his dance and escape their mate to live another day." He found it very amusing, actually, and only remembered because he had a few as a child, when his father was still alive. "Danse macabre, promenade à deux, that is my life calling, there's my plan."