You saying you can only read dead people's minds? Jesus, that's fucked up. What kind of freak are you? [For a split second Hammerhead almost feels sorry for the fellow freak, pervert or no (and he firmly was in her mind). But it's a split second and whatever else he is, he's a threat she defends against, pressing her hand against his chest and pushing him back.]
Good. You keep it that way, 'cause I don't owe you shit about me, motherfucker!
[And that's about enough from her. He might feel another rumble, then Sylvia takes control and glares at him.] W̟͎̣̙̜e̞̣̖̖̥ͣ̂ͤ̇̊'͒̃̃̾ṟ̭͚͈̺͎́̃̿ͥ̿̇e͖̫̜͛ͦ̽ ̭̥͚͙̼̹͗ͯ͑ͦͩͩ̓ͅnͧ̚o̯̹t ̫͌y̻̙̦̗͕͆͌ͬ̋̒ŏ̤̰͚̦̱͉ͨ͒ͫ̓̀ṹ̟̝͈̮͙ͩ̈́͗ȑ͉͍̪͙̲͙͎͋̊ͭ̈́͋̓ ͌̈́̇̌m̀́̈͋ͩͩys̜͔̊̈́t̬ͦe̜ͨř̦̯͈̮̘̺̃͒͛ͯͤ̌ͅy̦̬̗̞̥̼̠̑ͤ̑ͨ͛ͣ̍ t̠̯̱͒ͭ̓̍ͅo̫̘ͮͪ ̳̣͔̙s̊̔̀̉̂ͫ͋o͈̯͙͎l̝̳̦v̂͛͐ͬ̍͌̚é̱̳ͬ.̺̱̗͉
[Jane wrests the driver's seat from Sylvia and settles back into it. She flashes Murphy the brightest possible sickly smile as she heads on her way.] Thanks for the napkins.
no subject
Good. You keep it that way, 'cause I don't owe you shit about me, motherfucker!
[And that's about enough from her. He might feel another rumble, then Sylvia takes control and glares at him.] W̟͎̣̙̜e̞̣̖̖̥ͣ̂ͤ̇̊'͒̃̃̾ṟ̭͚͈̺͎́̃̿ͥ̿̇e͖̫̜͛ͦ̽ ̭̥͚͙̼̹͗ͯ͑ͦͩͩ̓ͅnͧ̚o̯̹t ̫͌y̻̙̦̗͕͆͌ͬ̋̒ŏ̤̰͚̦̱͉ͨ͒ͫ̓̀ṹ̟̝͈̮͙ͩ̈́͗ȑ͉͍̪͙̲͙͎͋̊ͭ̈́͋̓ ͌̈́̇̌m̀́̈͋ͩͩys̜͔̊̈́t̬ͦe̜ͨř̦̯͈̮̘̺̃͒͛ͯͤ̌ͅy̦̬̗̞̥̼̠̑ͤ̑ͨ͛ͣ̍ t̠̯̱͒ͭ̓̍ͅo̫̘ͮͪ ̳̣͔̙s̊̔̀̉̂ͫ͋o͈̯͙͎l̝̳̦v̂͛͐ͬ̍͌̚é̱̳ͬ.̺̱̗͉
[Jane wrests the driver's seat from Sylvia and settles back into it. She flashes Murphy the brightest possible sickly smile as she heads on her way.] Thanks for the napkins.