And Gunner was not about to give that ground. Not to him, not just as a stranger and definitely not as a non-resistance member. Yet in that instance the smith learned more about him that they wanted to. Cared to even. They knew instantly in that moment how they could hurt him, how they could destroy everything he ever lived and cared for. On how they could break him to their will. How deeply could they stab that knife and twist it?
But they were not that kind of person.
Even if he was one to deny the game.
Yes it was life, everything was life. Everything had a cost, was created, born, lived and died. Yet, it was also still a game – different groups, organisations and factions dressed up in their own colours. Even those that looked to remain unaligned still sported their own signs. That was the game and you either lived or died. The green eyes did not meet his, resting somewhere on his forehead in an attempt to at least look at him. There was no damns given on where he came from – none of it mattered really.
What mattered was what he did now.
“Neither of us have time to indulge your presumptions. Nor the story you wish to carry on telling. As I said before, I have little interest in your current affairs. Your time and your choices are yours to make, along with your ideologies and beliefs. If you are looking for justification, a balm against your hurts then I am not one to give it,” the gloved hand gestured to the firearm, “I am merely an enabler for your ambitions. Least, until they turn otherwise.”
They would not rise to him, would not hear the bleating he tried. How many others were like him? How many stories had they heard over the years, through word of mouth or first hand? He would not be the last, and he was not the only; so why carry on with his pathetic noise in such-
“Perhaps if things stay as they are, or perhaps if they change, or how they change. Change is inevitable and nothing is certain. The future is not ours to see,” Gunner caught their thoughts, grateful for the mask that was in place that hid the grimace of bored annoyance. Information was important, yes, but Gale was not about to put up with listening to his life story raw and unhinged. The gunsmith made no move, finger gently stroking down the cylinder of Liberator, “Rightways or quick and mostly painless? Or will you decide on the day? If your bravado matches your ability, then I am sure they will be no match for you regardless.”
The Artful Gunner gave a tilt of the head, before the hand gestured back and to the door behind Gunner, opposite from where the Passive came through, “With your goods received and satisfactory, a collector of your payment awaits you outside. Less, of course, you have further questions in regards to it?”