Sebastian's head turns to keep Jim in his line of sight though his hands slide into the pockets of his wind breaker like he's not concerned. As if his muscles are strung tight in preparation to defend him as he rolls the toothpick to the other side of his mouth, chewing on it as he listens to him talk. You don't underestimate what you don't know, but you also don't react preemptively when it could potentially set a predator off. You observe, and you gauge.
The expression that particular remark earns is almost amusing; both annoyed and bemused- skeptical, like he can't entirely believe this man would even have the audacity to doubt his resolve and he'd be offended if he could be arsed to care just a little more. He folds his arms, trying his best to keep the dry snark out of his tone and managing dead pan instead. "I'd sooner put my gun to my head and pull the trigger than run, and I don't say that to be fucking cute. You said yourself, I hunted tigers. You can't play Russian roulette without a bullet, Mister Moriarty, and you don't chase five-hundred pound killer beasts if you're afraid of a little death and dismemberment."
It's not a show to keep his calm, wearing a level of ambivalence that suggests he's not exactly ready to drop to he knees and kiss boot for this opportunity but he's intrigued. "That being said, what sort of job opening?" Full-time assassin? Not necessarily unheard of. The alternative to having to kill a particularly extraordinary assassin, which could be a pain in and of itself, was keep them as a pet to avoid their services being employed against you. "And what made me part of your interviewing cut?"
no subject
The expression that particular remark earns is almost amusing; both annoyed and bemused- skeptical, like he can't entirely believe this man would even have the audacity to doubt his resolve and he'd be offended if he could be arsed to care just a little more. He folds his arms, trying his best to keep the dry snark out of his tone and managing dead pan instead. "I'd sooner put my gun to my head and pull the trigger than run, and I don't say that to be fucking cute. You said yourself, I hunted tigers. You can't play Russian roulette without a bullet, Mister Moriarty, and you don't chase five-hundred pound killer beasts if you're afraid of a little death and dismemberment."
It's not a show to keep his calm, wearing a level of ambivalence that suggests he's not exactly ready to drop to he knees and kiss boot for this opportunity but he's intrigued. "That being said, what sort of job opening?" Full-time assassin? Not necessarily unheard of. The alternative to having to kill a particularly extraordinary assassin, which could be a pain in and of itself, was keep them as a pet to avoid their services being employed against you. "And what made me part of your interviewing cut?"