There might be a little regret somewhere that he's dispatched one of the few people from his past that would happily have a drink with him, but in many regards it was wiser to sever all ties. People got used against you. People were expendable, they always were. He was. You performed to your absolute best and failing to do so, or should your best fail to be adequate, you made yourself removable, replaceable.
The first response to the clap is a quiet, uneasy uncertainty that's careful never to reach his expression. Either Sebastian was being mocked or the man was genuinely pleased with his work, but to assume the latter prematurely would be a quick way to a stupid death. Instead, the sniper internally braces himself as the weight of the firearm is lifted from his hand, which is a little slow to withdraw as he observes Jim, determines his next course of action. Regarding the (unexpected) extended hand, a slow smirk spreads across his lips as he lowers his hand to take Jim's without the caution he feels, shaking it firmly.
Is it really this easy? No more shit apartment. Might be able to afford some nice new clothes, too (though he shouldn't be left to buying his own suits, cheap and ill-fitting). No more budgeting the month and skipping meals for entire days, no more rejection notices after tedious interviews. And he could hunt. "I won't disappoint."
This is... the most alive he's felt since the war. There's a spark that's been reignited and is eager to be fed with the promise of purpose. He could devote himself to a worthy cause; if Jim Moriarty were to be his country, then Sebastian Moran would be his entire army. He'd raze the cities of his kingdom's enemies and salt the earth. Show him his leader and he'll pledge obedience.
no subject
The first response to the clap is a quiet, uneasy uncertainty that's careful never to reach his expression. Either Sebastian was being mocked or the man was genuinely pleased with his work, but to assume the latter prematurely would be a quick way to a stupid death. Instead, the sniper internally braces himself as the weight of the firearm is lifted from his hand, which is a little slow to withdraw as he observes Jim, determines his next course of action. Regarding the (unexpected) extended hand, a slow smirk spreads across his lips as he lowers his hand to take Jim's without the caution he feels, shaking it firmly.
Is it really this easy? No more shit apartment. Might be able to afford some nice new clothes, too (though he shouldn't be left to buying his own suits, cheap and ill-fitting). No more budgeting the month and skipping meals for entire days, no more rejection notices after tedious interviews. And he could hunt. "I won't disappoint."
This is... the most alive he's felt since the war. There's a spark that's been reignited and is eager to be fed with the promise of purpose. He could devote himself to a worthy cause; if Jim Moriarty were to be his country, then Sebastian Moran would be his entire army. He'd raze the cities of his kingdom's enemies and salt the earth. Show him his leader and he'll pledge obedience.