Not long ago. Life's been much more comfortable recently. Well, except for my new job.
She took a glance at the same box Hemlocke was honed in on for a second. The awkward glance drew some concern, but not enough to elicit anything more than a quick facial expression.
I don't suppose there are any other bad people in this world you want to be wiped from existence, are there? This house is full of talkers, and young people looking to score a reputation. They have a habit of jogging my conscience, a bit less simple than in the past.
At her response to the question, his hand instead of releasing whatever mechanism was keeping the box closed, instead lifted it as he carried it around the desk toward Heinrich, placing it down on the left side of the coffee table in front of her, before his scarred hand released the handle, and he returned to a straight backed and tense posture. His head tilted to the side ever so slightly as he stared upward slightly at the taller Heinrich. Seemingly still fascinated by the oddness of it all. Noting the lack of scarring again, and the longer hair that made her appear far more mature, it was certainly a much different image.
"Then you can take this when you leave. It should survive the trip."
A pause after his words in relation to the box, seemingly implying there was food within. He didn't quite respond to her question yet, staring at her for an uncomfortable amount of time, almost as if expecting something. Though he eventually spoke again, in a tone that suggested he found what she had said somewhat amusing.
"Bad People..."
"Is that how you justify it, Heinrich? That you only kill /bad people/ or those who /deserve/ it? Sounds to me like you never really changed."
Risking her ire, those words were treading on thin ice and he knew it. Dredging up a past she'd rather leave behind, she was trying to build something new. He knew that, it's part of why he had invited her here to begin with, to see if she'd really changed. After his words he changed the topic, back in line with what he'd invited her for specifically.
Heinrich maintained a neutral expression as Josie rambled on about "justifications". His memory of her was skewed along with the collective of her followers; she never looked for justification in killing as a Hessian. The devil does as the devil pleases. It was a bit foolish of her to say what she did regardless; the hint that she had a choice wouldn't help in the event the truth came out. Owell, onto the new topic at hand.
Rum, preferably mixed with some sweet flavor. She said in response, the previous comment appeared to have gone in one ear and out the other.
"There's no way he has any rum." She thought to herself.
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