But if it's revenge he's after, it's remarkably cold. Where Mitchell is all hot anger and desperation, the soldier is barely, carefully restrained. Calculated, the way his metal arm extends to its fullest, elbow buckling to a lock. His torso turns out of grasping range, the opposite arm dropping back at at a remove after that initial blow. Mitchell's taller than him, longer in the limbs and strong -- stronger than he could take at closer range, he suspects the minute he feels the vampire claw against his hold, but super strong bionic arms have their advantages. Still, he makes no move to do anything but hold him pinned. Cold chrome fingers flex and clench for purchase, but hold fast.
"Or you'll what?" he retorts, metal digging into skin hard enough to hurt but not damage. That's revenge, yes, but it's not all he's doing this for. A flat, reptilian curiosity outshines any satisfaction in his eyes. Mitchell sounds like the kind of guy who's used to being obeyed; what happens when he isn't? If all it takes is a hit to bring his fangs out, how close is he at any given moment to losing control?
(How close are either of them?)
"You gonna rip my throat out too?"
He even loosens his grip a touch to allow for an answer, like the other man's struggles don't even warrant caution.
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But if it's revenge he's after, it's remarkably cold. Where Mitchell is all hot anger and desperation, the soldier is barely, carefully restrained. Calculated, the way his metal arm extends to its fullest, elbow buckling to a lock. His torso turns out of grasping range, the opposite arm dropping back at at a remove after that initial blow. Mitchell's taller than him, longer in the limbs and strong -- stronger than he could take at closer range, he suspects the minute he feels the vampire claw against his hold, but super strong bionic arms have their advantages. Still, he makes no move to do anything but hold him pinned. Cold chrome fingers flex and clench for purchase, but hold fast.
"Or you'll what?" he retorts, metal digging into skin hard enough to hurt but not damage. That's revenge, yes, but it's not all he's doing this for. A flat, reptilian curiosity outshines any satisfaction in his eyes. Mitchell sounds like the kind of guy who's used to being obeyed; what happens when he isn't? If all it takes is a hit to bring his fangs out, how close is he at any given moment to losing control?
(How close are either of them?)
"You gonna rip my throat out too?"
He even loosens his grip a touch to allow for an answer, like the other man's struggles don't even warrant caution.