[ He listens with rapt attention, expression hungry, like he's drinking in the words. Mass suicide? A festival of brutal murder, burning people alive? God, there's a part of him is horribly excited to hear it: it sounds supernatural and spectacular and terrifying, all the makings of a memory that would feed him. Significant distress is a phrase that makes him— makes the eldritch, awful thing living inside him— eager.
When she cuts herself off, shuts down, Jon jolts back to himself. Takes a half-step back, wary at that tone in her voice, but. But she's not human, is she? He has tried so very hard, for so very long, not to prey on the minds of innocents. Of human victims.
But she's not human. And he is so horribly hungry for memories of horror and fear. ]
no subject
When she cuts herself off, shuts down, Jon jolts back to himself. Takes a half-step back, wary at that tone in her voice, but. But she's not human, is she? He has tried so very hard, for so very long, not to prey on the minds of innocents. Of human victims.
But she's not human. And he is so horribly hungry for memories of horror and fear. ]
I just want to know. I just want the story.