Septimus

Oh, she wants the two of you to be friends and you already threatened him...

The musicians Septimus told you about.

Bad is good, good is bad, and everything is shit. Got it.

Strands of her long, dark hair falling through his fingers as he pulls his hand away from her.

The lanky man flicks a palm-sized toy scooter out of his pocket like a switchblade, performs a miniature double flip, then looks to you for a reaction.

You try to square up to him but something in your body resists and cringes from the idea of intimidating someone so pathetic.

"BZZT. Try again, again."

"Calling it an 'operation'? That's balaclava bullshit."

"Dad's generals knew how to fuck, Tigerpussy. They knew how to fuck people up."

"Fuck off, Tigerpussy."

"Get your story straight Tigerpussy, am I a retard or not?"

"Good."

"I wanted to ask about something else..." (Back.)

"I'm leaving now." (Leave.)

"Threaten me and then ask for my help, is it? Storm into my cinema and make a mug of me and demand my assistance, is it? Well, fine, but only because I'm scared you'll only fucking do it again."

"What now?" He does a kick-flip with the miniature scooter.

"You again. They always want more." He spins the miniature scooter around his finger.