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[The response is matter of fact, obvious, and the fact that he can say it fills his chest with warmth. He thinks back to when their were children, how Dennis suggested they kill an animal together. Intoxicating relief washed over his body when he heard those words, as though the unspoken urges inside his head were finally given a voice.]
Life is miserable for the humans in this place. You're giving them one last gift.
[He sips the wine. Even before he swallows it, he feels drunk. Giddy.]
Some people would call that noble.
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Aunamee's full of words like that. Almost as many as Dennis is when he talks to himself in the mirror, hiding the criminal acts of time with foundation, blush, concealer, color correcter, moisturizer, gloss.
He sips his gin and tonic, tilting his head a little to decide whether it meets his bartender standards. The truth is it's way better than any G-and-T Dennis could make, but Dennis is going to admit that. They're probably just working with more expensive gin.]
That brings me to my proposition, actually.
[He thinks of his sister, of their shared secrets and covert smiles when they'd done something- no, not evil, just misunderstood by people too dim and small-minded to understand that there's an art to cruelty and selfishness. Her absence is like a gaping wound and Aunamee is the tissue he's trying to stuff into the hole. Dennis is a human being wired for collusion, for partnership, for symbiosis and parasitism.]
If it's an honor for someone to be killed by one of us, imagine the, ah, the splendor of being killed by both of us.
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Most of the time, Aunamee's eyes -- when he has them -- are dull like burnt out light bulbs, two emotionless orbs that focus on the world a little too closely. But sometimes, there's a certain electricity inside them, a buzzing energy that jolts and jumps and beckons, and that's what they look like right now. He takes in Dennis' face with quick, hungry saccades. His lips curl into a smile.]
When?
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How does during the Fog sound? I haven't had a chance to see what my complete transformation will look like- [he bites his lower lip; his upper lip is just starting to show a hint of a cleft-] and you'd be a great audience for the unveiling.
[Sculpted like a Roman statue. That's how Dennis sees himself.]