[What follows is a beat of wary silence. It's an odd position to be in, all of a sudden. He doesn't have much understanding of it, himself. Just that it happened. Even Talia and Ra's, for all their resources, hadn't been able to put a finger on why he'd woken up six feet under, still half dead from the beating that had killed him in the first place. And he hadn't sought it out, after he'd been healed. Because the far away intangible what that had brought him back had paled immensely in the light of what he'd found once he was himself again. He'd left that mystery in the past to pursue his life again with purpose. To do what he could to make sense of his half-baked second chance by doing what no one else would do in his absence.
He can't do much of that, here. And face to face with someone who may provide insight, if not answers, he weighs the worth of his secrets—if you can call it that, when Loki's looking at him like he's wasting both their time by dodging—against it.
If nothing else, better to know what Loki does know. Or at least, what he thinks he does. There's a tic in his jaw while he turns it over, a tight line in his posture that does not at all invite further investigation. But sooner or later—]
Try me.
[He's listening. What better place for a ghost story than a graveyard, after all?]
no subject
He can't do much of that, here. And face to face with someone who may provide insight, if not answers, he weighs the worth of his secrets—if you can call it that, when Loki's looking at him like he's wasting both their time by dodging—against it.
If nothing else, better to know what Loki does know. Or at least, what he thinks he does. There's a tic in his jaw while he turns it over, a tight line in his posture that does not at all invite further investigation. But sooner or later—]
Try me.
[He's listening. What better place for a ghost story than a graveyard, after all?]