...I know just 'ow this is going to go. You're going to lie there giving off belly rub vibes, and then the minute any bugger tries, you'll take their face off.
It tastes sort of medicinal, but in the good way, if you know what I mean.
[She eyes him, enjoying the dynamics of his movement. Iris is very well aware that a sensible person might be scared, that there's very little she could do if he decided to start violence. She just refuses to be afraid on principle.]
Aye, well, I did tell you I 'ad memory problems sometimes, lovey. Didn't I? I'm almost sure I did.
I don't. Haven't needed it in a long time, and even when I did it wasn't ever a good thing.
[The fact that she seems determined to remain unafraid is a little frustrating, but ultimately probably for the best; it keeps him from lashing out immediately to try to get a response.]
[Reflex kicks in and he opens his eyes, throwing an arm up to bat at it before rolling to his feet in one smooth movement, glancing around for the source. Finding it, he gives the girl a dangerous smirk.]
[Iris would rather stay in the shade, and she eyes him for a long moment before deciding that refusing to walk the twelve or so feet between them isn't worth the effort. She fills the second glass, and rises to her feet with a theatrical sigh.]
What'd your last servant die of? No, don't answer that, lovey, I'm fairly sure I don't need to know. 'Ere you go.
Might be to yours if you didn't push the issue. I'm not hurtin' anybody. [...yet.] Am I?
[A lazy stretch, reminiscent of a cat's, and he crosses his arms behind his head as he continues to watch her, looking her up and down, gaze too sharp, bordering on outright dangerous.]
[He is a beautiful mover. Iris doesn't feel attracted to him specifically, but he'll never not be a pleasure to watch; she does so openly, as one would watch any beautiful animal.]
Well, why wouldn't I, love? Cheers!
[This is the shortest of Iris' incarnations at five foot nothing, but it's also been the longest-lived so far, and she's well used to being loomed over. She tilts her head up at him, grinning, and lifts her own glass.]
[He knocks it back without expression, as easily as if it were water; much like the other folks with healing factors, Creed actually needs to work to get drunk. He leaves the glass on the ground nearby, then settles in to watching their surroundings.]
You don't startle easy.
[There's a hint of surprise in there, but mostly it's just curiosity.]
[And by startle, he means intimidate; it interests Iris that he's chosen to use what might almost be a euphemism.
She chuckles.]
No, I s'pose I don't, lovey. Life I live, if I started jumpin' at everything that 'appened I'd never touch the ground. 'Alf the time there's no reason and the other 'alf there's no point.
[If he were a cat, this would be the point where his tail would swish back and forth across the ground, a warning before he attacks. But he's not a cat, only a beast in a human suit, who's currently watching her like she's his prey. But the smirk he grants her with shows elongated canines, and if she can see his hands where they're behind his head his nails are a little too long, and sharpened, more like claws than nails.]
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