Thrice, the assassin has surprised them all. Or was it four? Whatever. Actually, no no, wait. It is thrice, three in American. Anyway, back to the story
The drunken man seemed somewhat cured of his drunkenness as he easily snapped back round to stare her straight down with electric blue eyes peered, no, glinted at her with malicious intent. She was completely unused to such raw hatred directed at her, such refined killer intent that not even her daughter Mordred could ever hope to compare to. But it was not the kind of anger that was just outright thrown willy nilly. No. No~. It was the kind of anger that was truly, and completely understood. It was completely warranted. He knew. He. Knew. exactly who she was. How didn't matter, the when doesn't register, but the why? The why?
It remains to be seen. But she has a feeling she is not going to like it.
She calls it a kings intuition. It was not. It was in fact, a woman's intuition.
"Outta all the fuqin people who lectures me on what to tell me what a hero is..." He laughed mirthlessly "... It had to be un of da greatest failures of all supposed heros everywhere: Queen Arturia of the Round table." His words forced Arturia to be stoically still with her face completely emotionless. But her eyes, her eyes betrayed her once more, infuriated by the slander and completely butchered titles she perceived to be "correct".
"That. Is King Arthur to you, you dishonorable cur-" "-said the failure." Immediately Silver was already making her miserable at every chance. Screw the plan, time to make this bitch get the meanest, greatest, most equal, yet downright satisfying wake-up bitch slap that will ever go down in history. And when he is done with her, he will personally, tattoo his old name to her ar-[CALL] 'Awwwwww shite.'
"That, is King Arthur to you, you disgraceful scoundrel." She repeated once more while Silver took the call while responding with a- "BOITE ME!!!" To which she reacted as though physically struck
Apparently, she was~ paying attention this time. Though now that he thought about it, this was an important thing not to screw up. So of course~~~~ shes going to paying attention. Why wouldn't she? Why wouldn't she just let him enjoy it himself with his usual ways of winging it? He knew why. She was right, and he was wrong. As the way things were meant to be. His material desires easily switches on and off at the drop of a hat. Her's........ Fits more to a, basis to basis situation. Yes, he can, CAN, see the whole damn picture. But he's in a moment kinda guy, or a hedonist if you want to be a damn psych about it.
Sliver still does not understand why you need to pay someone to talk about your problems. Can't they just drink/fight/fuck their problems away and move on? Though now his therapist is calling. And he didn't like it. Not. One. Bit.
Though now he has to pick up, she'll know if he ignored her again. Consequences? More like end of the damn world as he knows it.
[CALL]
'Shiiiiiiii~it. Now I gaht to pick it up.' Silver disconnected earlier for a damn good reason. Sure he'd love to hear a pretty lass's voice in his head all the time, but she can do a pretty good job to not make it so. He was sure there isn't a stick up her arse, trust me, he's checked. Even if she appears to be quite the smart lassie, he's of the particular opinion that she has a hard time relaxing when need to be. Stressing when she doesn't have to be over particular details.
He loves this damn woman. He has experience, but god damn does she take it to a whole other level.
"'Ello~?'"
"'So your not going to fire away the entire plan we spent years preparing for straight into the sun right?'"
"'Ha ha ha~. Selene! To what do I owe the pleasure?'"
