the change in your face [when anger shows]

[didorothy]

[Have you, gentle reader, ever wanted to know what barely contained, borderline homocidal rage sounds like when delivered in John Simm's delightful Mancunian accent? Then here is your chance!]

There is a savannah. Outside of Manchester.

A savannah. Outside. Of Manchester.

Everywhere.

With cheetahs!

Gene Hunt, I am going to gut you, and when I'm done I'll have 'em prepared for your funeral so your Missus doesn't have to cook.

Comments

[madamemoiselle]

Why not?

[didorothy]

Because it's driving me mad just sitting here waiting.

[madamemoiselle]

Waiting for what? For it to just get better?

{She steps closer and takes his hands very carefully, as if they were made of glass} It won't. Not even if Amshel dies. But no matter what happens, I can deal with it, just like I have before. Ne, but that's why I don't want Sam to do something...stupid, I guess. I want Sam to live. Amshel wants Sam to die. If Sam even said his name, then you'd be dead. Amshel is scary, but that's why I want Sam to be safe.