"I will," Lambert says, with simple, hard-faced certainty. There's no 'hope' about it, no doubt in his mind: he's going to track this guy down, remind him who he killed, and then get the satisfaction of running him through with his damn sword.
... But right now, they're in a stupid faerie garden where everything's made of sugar, and a sun that basically never stops shining is over their heads. It's a little hard to maintain a murderous mood like that, and Lambert shrugs, relaxing slightly.
"Not going to happen until I get home, though. Guess I don't have to worry about it until then." This is just the sort of people the Carnival brings together, it seems: a witcher and an idol. In any other life, there'd be no reason for them to be standing here. Though now that he's thinking about it, Lambert frowns, realizing there's a part of Tamaki's story that doesn't quite make sense.
"You said your boss had to get permission from someone before he could hire you. Why?" 'Sensei' means nothing to him, sorry.
sweet sweet thread necromancy
... But right now, they're in a stupid faerie garden where everything's made of sugar, and a sun that basically never stops shining is over their heads. It's a little hard to maintain a murderous mood like that, and Lambert shrugs, relaxing slightly.
"Not going to happen until I get home, though. Guess I don't have to worry about it until then." This is just the sort of people the Carnival brings together, it seems: a witcher and an idol. In any other life, there'd be no reason for them to be standing here. Though now that he's thinking about it, Lambert frowns, realizing there's a part of Tamaki's story that doesn't quite make sense.
"You said your boss had to get permission from someone before he could hire you. Why?" 'Sensei' means nothing to him, sorry.