The cryokinetic's smile grew as he heard Victor describe fracturing Havok's ribs and sternum; I hope it hurt. The bastard... The sinister nature of Victor's grin didn't bother him at all.
The Canadian then extended a hand, and the claws gleamed in the dim light of the moon and the hallway's illumination. He chuckled at Victor's joke about keyboards. "Well there's no such thing as a job for everyone," he said as he chuckled; he stretched back and one of his hands adjusted the knot in his cerulean tie. The silver pinstripes of his otherwise-jet-black suit subtly shone in the sparse radiance.
"Heroism wasn't for me. At least not the kind I was forced into when I was sixteen..." he said, "but hey, for all the painful-as-fuck shit Weapon X did, at least you've basically got a permanently perfect manicure." He added another chuckle, but it ended quickly and was clearly forced. Well, its easier to laugh than cry about the stuff he went through..
The accountant scooped up more icecream and shoveled it between his lips. His tongue gathered the ribbons of caramel before he let the bourbon-filled dairy lusciousness pass down his throat. "So... you and Logan have a history right?" he asked, again a touch quieter than usual. He knew the other Creed considered Logan a "weak pup" - well this Victor wouldn't think that.