A SENSE OF A CONTROL / private, caesar

henri grimaced. of course whoever this was had to be difficult. give the blind guy his fucking glasses, jesus, he thought, but didn't vocalize that. he rolled his shoulders and decided to answer the question. "cause' my eyes hurt like hell right now because of the sun. they're sensitive." he could tell there was a hint of aggression in the other's voice as he explained where they were- the typhoon. oh fuck, that was a long way from snowbound, and they were known to be ruthless as well. of course, henri would have fit right in, but the typhoon was too... logical for his gospel. he needed the most pacifist and the weakest clan to control first, at least. they'd be more willing to drink the kool-aid, not this clan.

"listen. i'm not here to cause trouble." he furrowed his eyebrows. "i'm a fuckin' blind guy, i couldn't fight a fly if i wanted to," he rationalized, not wanting to die at the hands of a typhooner. "so can i have my glasses back?"