Not that Bischofite would care. He already seemed willing to drag others down with him into this sick and twisted rabbit hole of his, so why should he have cared about his feelings? It was such a minor inconvenience compared to what plagued Bischofite, though, so he supposed he had no reason to be angry.
When Bischofite turned to face him, he thought he was prepared for anything, and yet, his laughter was enough to make him want to quake in his shoes. Had he made a mistake? Would be pay the price for this risky gamble? He managed to keep himself still, knowing that there was no hope for him to escape, not now, not while he had given up his civilian identity to his friend or the abilities that came with being Buddingtonite. No, Richard remained as he was, a deer in the headlights, even when Bischofite wrapped his fingers around his throat. All he could think to do was stand there and put forth a brave front, even when all he wanted to do was scream for mercy on the inside. He kept telling himself that Bischofite wouldn't kill him, but why did he find it hard to truly believe that?
When asked a simple question, he answered promptly, surprised that only a fraction of this unnerving fear could be heard in his deep baritone voice, at least to his own ears. Or maybe that was the grip to his throat to thank, as it worked wonders in suppressing most of the emotion from his voice. "Yes. I trust that you're not stupid enough to kill me, and think to get away with it. Someone in the Negaverse is bound to find out, and I'm sure not even you would like that punishment..."
Or maybe he would? Poor choice of words on his part, but he knew that if anyone was willing to avenge him, Serpentine would. Even if he had nothing else, he at least had him...
He was grateful to be released, but he managed to keep his hands at his side. He swore he could still feel those fingers, but he forced the fear and the chilling sensation down, as he watched his movements for a moment more. He wasn't sure if his threat was enough to spare him or if he was simply too miserable to follow through, but if it meant he'd live another day, he'd accept it. With no grip to his throat and his life not immediately under threat, he gave a cooling laugh, before reaching for that hand and giving him a playful tug. "You shouldn't goad me on like that. You know... I'd do anything to win."
And he meant it, though part of him feared what kind of prize Bischofite would have in store for him. There was only one way to find out... "Is my house private enough for you?"
Strickenized
Shall we call it a wrap here, sugarcube?
