[The Archivist is a scrawny, graying man. He lifts a hand to beckon Cain in without looking up immediately. What skin is visible for him is mostly covered in scars. Little pockmarks dot his face and neck, and there's a slice across his neck that's deep enough to have been near fatal. His right hand, when he looks up and offers it in return, is covered in rough burn scars that extend up past the edge of his jacket sleeve.]
Cain. Right.
[He lifts a brow.]
Is that your real name or some sort of codename for this organization you're a part of?
[Jon's seen a great deal, but he's a skeptic at heart. The story of Cain and Abel is something he's aware of, and it's a bit mad to think this could be anything like that Cain.]
no subject
Cain. Right.
[He lifts a brow.]
Is that your real name or some sort of codename for this organization you're a part of?
[Jon's seen a great deal, but he's a skeptic at heart. The story of Cain and Abel is something he's aware of, and it's a bit mad to think this could be anything like that Cain.]