[ SKREEETCH. That is the sound of them stopping on a dime, probably nearly toppling over in the process. It's like flipping a switch, because suddenly, he doesn't feel like himself anymore. Jack, normal Jack, sane Jack - he'd cow down, bitch a little, and let it go Frozen style. It's not a big deal. He can take a little razzing. But this time, he remembers how ridiculously good it felt to shoot all those people; how amazing it was to see the way they were afraid of him when they were dying. Like he was some kind of god.
And he wants it again. So Tony gets Jack twisting in his seat like a snake, lunging - he means to put himself mostly in Tony's lap, the fingers of his right hand locked around the man's windpipe. ]
Nope. [ He tuts. ] Why do you keep making me hurt you, Tony?
[ They're not Jack's words. They're Jack's words. ]
no subject
And he wants it again. So Tony gets Jack twisting in his seat like a snake, lunging - he means to put himself mostly in Tony's lap, the fingers of his right hand locked around the man's windpipe. ]
Nope. [ He tuts. ] Why do you keep making me hurt you, Tony?
[ They're not Jack's words. They're Jack's words. ]