He felt a sharp pull on his arm as Rep twisted away and was glad for it, glad for some kind of reaction. The sharp voice and wild eyes were not as expected. Horace had somehow rattled Rep, and, worst of all, it had been so
easy. Rep had become some sort of immovable warrior in his mind, someone who wore violence like a second skin. It was... uncomfortable to see him otherwise.
He held up his hands, palms facing towards him. An eyebrow arced as Jannisari glowed on his knuckles - close combat weapons. Her metal didn't protect his hands at all and Horace came out of every fight with skinned knuckles and deep bruises on his palms.
"I don't know if you ******** NOTICED, but I kind of have to touch you!" Two could play the yelling game. The pat on the cheek. the hand sliding across his chest hadn't been necessary, but if Rep hadn't encountered that before, that was sheer dumb luck. Rep's reaction was a liability, a weakness and Horace knew that if he had to, he'd take advantage of it again. Hopefully, he wouldn't have to - they were technically on the same side, after all. Tracey came at him, and he dodged the majority of the massive axe and even the slice he did take wasn't satisfying.
"I'm not a f*****t unless you're also a f*****t," he said, jaw clenching. It was an old, tired argument, but it still stung each time; it would sting every time. Even so, Horace knew he hated Rep for more than the things he'd said and done, but also for the way people excused him, enabled him, gave him chance after chance. Like they wouldn't give to others.
"I hope you managed to leech some fear or something, because we're done here. I'll spar you when you can actually fight me." His lip curled into a sneer. With that, he de-summoned Jannisari, felt her familiar weight tugging at his earlobe, and began to walk away.
HP: 32/40
DMG: not
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