[Long enough for him to completely lose his mind, apparently. Several months, though. Can she really believe that this creature standing before her used to be a man? Yes, she realizes after a moment, and that's enough to send chills through her. Immediately, she quashes the idea, trying not to bare her teeth when his head flickers like it's... well, not really a solid thing at all.
Nynaeve decides that she's finished with this conversation. Light, she doesn't think she can watch his features do that again.]
Any other advice, Mr. Bracket? [Her words are brittle and clipped, but the way her knuckles are white with strain betray her true emotion.]
[There's a slight flicker of annoyance across his features - he doesn't like the formality of that. He likes success, of being acknowledged, but somehow it smacks of cheap flattery when someone calls him "mister".]
[He thinks over it for a moment, before he turns back to her, taking out the cigarette from his mouth and letting his head flicker back to its regular shape.]
...Ah, yes. Almost forgot. When you turn into a monster, well...you'll be eating something new. Something different. You'll be eating parts of...human beings.
[He lets out a slight huff and says, ever so casually:] I eat souls, myself.
[Her lips thin irritably at that, and if she didn't think she'd be tempted to strangle herself, she'd mock him with a curtsy just out of spite! Nynaeve can't shame herself though, not in front of a man who has already frightened her once.
He does it again in an instant, talking so casually about devouring souls. Her fist clenches her braid tight, and Nynaeve wishes she was brave enough to slap him until his fool head falls off!] That... [She breathes unsteadily, trying to keep calm even though her insides are writhing.] ...is impossible.
[Her voice spikes, growing louder and louder with each word.] You are a monster. Light! How can you say something like that so casually?!
[He almost has half a mind to tell her what he did at home. He used a tool from another dimension, a godly object, to transform the essence of human beings into abilities that could change the very reality he lived in. In his mind, those people who were absorbed by that tool were, in a way, blessed. They achieved some form of existence that he couldn't comprehend.]
[Is him stealing souls from others now the same as that? Possibly. Maybe not. But in a way, he prefers it over killing someone and having their blood taint his hands. He's merely finding another use for their souls: his survival. He doesn't like it, exactly, but it's better than what he has seen others do.]
Because that has become my reality. Hard to...deny your own hunger. You go mad if you don't eat. Berserk. Can't let that happen, no...
So you rather devour the souls of people for the sake of saving yourself.
[Disgusted is too mild a word to describe her feelings in this moment, and despite herself, Nynaeve bares her teeth at the creature as though she'd very much like to sink them into his throat. He's already mad, but she has the wisdom to keep her mouth shut--at least on that point.]
Stay away from me. [She warns, managing not to hiss like an angry goose.] Or I'll--
[She doesn't know what. Strangle him. Hating herself for not daring to take her eyes off of him, Nynaeve takes a wary step back, then another, and another.]
[There's no arguing, no denial. Just a "yes". He's a monster. That's that. Can't ignore it.]
Or you'll...what? Kill me? Can't...can't do that, I'm afraid.
[He feels a strange feeling well up in his chest when he sees her anger, sees the glint of fear in those fiery eyes - the fact that another is afraid of him is so strange and so...amusing, almost. Before, people wouldn't give him the time of day, and now he could make others fear him.]
[He's still staring at her with those horrible eyes, burn him! Nynaeve yanks her braid so hard that it hurts, gathering her anger before she speaks. Anger gives her word a razor's edge, and she's glad for the sharpness.]
Anyone can be killed, Mr. Bracket. You remember that.
[Blood and bloody ashes, when will she learn not to poke the bear?! She hastily turns her back, intending on striding off before he can frighten the wits out of her again. Not that she would ever admit to it.]
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no subject
Nynaeve decides that she's finished with this conversation. Light, she doesn't think she can watch his features do that again.]
Any other advice, Mr. Bracket? [Her words are brittle and clipped, but the way her knuckles are white with strain betray her true emotion.]
no subject
[There's a slight flicker of annoyance across his features - he doesn't like the formality of that. He likes success, of being acknowledged, but somehow it smacks of cheap flattery when someone calls him "mister".]
[He thinks over it for a moment, before he turns back to her, taking out the cigarette from his mouth and letting his head flicker back to its regular shape.]
...Ah, yes. Almost forgot. When you turn into a monster, well...you'll be eating something new. Something different. You'll be eating parts of...human beings.
[He lets out a slight huff and says, ever so casually:] I eat souls, myself.
no subject
He does it again in an instant, talking so casually about devouring souls. Her fist clenches her braid tight, and Nynaeve wishes she was brave enough to slap him until his fool head falls off!] That... [She breathes unsteadily, trying to keep calm even though her insides are writhing.] ...is impossible.
[Her voice spikes, growing louder and louder with each word.] You are a monster. Light! How can you say something like that so casually?!
no subject
[Is him stealing souls from others now the same as that? Possibly. Maybe not. But in a way, he prefers it over killing someone and having their blood taint his hands. He's merely finding another use for their souls: his survival. He doesn't like it, exactly, but it's better than what he has seen others do.]
Because that has become my reality. Hard to...deny your own hunger. You go mad if you don't eat. Berserk. Can't let that happen, no...
no subject
[Disgusted is too mild a word to describe her feelings in this moment, and despite herself, Nynaeve bares her teeth at the creature as though she'd very much like to sink them into his throat. He's already mad, but she has the wisdom to keep her mouth shut--at least on that point.]
Stay away from me. [She warns, managing not to hiss like an angry goose.] Or I'll--
[She doesn't know what. Strangle him. Hating herself for not daring to take her eyes off of him, Nynaeve takes a wary step back, then another, and another.]
no subject
[There's no arguing, no denial. Just a "yes". He's a monster. That's that. Can't ignore it.]
Or you'll...what? Kill me? Can't...can't do that, I'm afraid.
[He feels a strange feeling well up in his chest when he sees her anger, sees the glint of fear in those fiery eyes - the fact that another is afraid of him is so strange and so...amusing, almost. Before, people wouldn't give him the time of day, and now he could make others fear him.]
[Strange. So very strange.]
no subject
Anyone can be killed, Mr. Bracket. You remember that.
[Blood and bloody ashes, when will she learn not to poke the bear?! She hastily turns her back, intending on striding off before he can frighten the wits out of her again. Not that she would ever admit to it.]