Re: Outside: Clementine & Rudy
There was enough about Rudy that was ugly. If insides showed out, he'd be as twisted as the witches from children's fairytales, lacerated, ulcerous, and old. He was more monster than man, and perhaps it was that truth that kept him from covering the parts of him that were rotten, with honey and sweetness. He never did understand that inclination, but, years and years and years, and a good number of aspects of humanity still remained elusive to his understanding.—His nose often let him sniff at what was beneath the thick, laden scents of falsity, catch a whiff of spoiled meat and selfishness. It might've been that that allowed him to see the woman's stinger at all. Or it could've been that she kept it just out of view, so anyone who looked at her for more than a second, would be faced with such a realization.
The man gave a rough sort of chuckle when she teased him more, but that was it.—He made a 'mm' sound when she asked if her name was pretty, letting her interpret what that meant in whatever way she wanted. He'd tossed back his bourbon, harder and faster than was customary, but he didn't care about customs. He was licking through the cinnamon and high rye to tell her his name, but he was aware, before the words began forming on his tongue, that she had seen something—someone—unexpected and unwanted.
Rudy found these complex relationships—not confusing, but unnecessary. He sighed and looked over his shoulder to find the reason behind those butterfly-wide eyes opening with white fear. Scents vied beneath bourbon and smoke, and he couldn't pick out who it was she had seen, though he could smell the stricken fear on her skin.
"Yeah," was all he said. He followed her to the door, and though he didn't loop his arm through hers, he did open the door by reaching over her, allowing her to slip out, glass and all.