At least John is relatively sane enough to present the idea that other people may need to get in and out of the house without being dissuaded by a persistent electric bouncer. Maybe not THE reality check someone else would present, but it's A reality check, at least? One hopefully Ginger and Zsasz might appreciate, anyway.
Typically John's poker face is damn near flawless, only tweaked and adjusted by meticulous intention; but he feels like he's holding onto his composure with sweaty hands and he's not quite sure how he wants to spin it. It's been more than once now that Riddler's inspired such eager, pleading compliance in him; maybe it would even be easier if John didn't like it so much. It doesn't matter that he's six feet tall; the right kind of look can bunch his shoulders and make him look away, displaying that weakness that, in another time and place, would have been killed off completely.
"Yeah, okay, you got me. Sounds like my kind'a Friday Night," he tries to play it off casual and snarky, and almost sticks the landing of it. "But to be fair," when he lifts his bio-hazard green eyes they're alight with bottomless, ravenous yearning; like he's dying of thirst and Riddler's got the last of the water on the whole damn earth. Then a small but sharp smile curves his lips, coloring his expression briefly unhinged and manic.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2020-04-13 05:36 am (UTC)Typically John's poker face is damn near flawless, only tweaked and adjusted by meticulous intention; but he feels like he's holding onto his composure with sweaty hands and he's not quite sure how he wants to spin it. It's been more than once now that Riddler's inspired such eager, pleading compliance in him; maybe it would even be easier if John didn't like it so much. It doesn't matter that he's six feet tall; the right kind of look can bunch his shoulders and make him look away, displaying that weakness that, in another time and place, would have been killed off completely.
"Yeah, okay, you got me. Sounds like my kind'a Friday Night," he tries to play it off casual and snarky, and almost sticks the landing of it. "But to be fair," when he lifts his bio-hazard green eyes they're alight with bottomless, ravenous yearning; like he's dying of thirst and Riddler's got the last of the water on the whole damn earth. Then a small but sharp smile curves his lips, coloring his expression briefly unhinged and manic.
"I always want you to hurt me."