[/html]He, the analyst, recognized her anxiety as subtle as it was; everything he did seemed to perplex her further, but hadn't she been the one who greeted him and refused to leave? Jefferson was hardly one for small talk and brainless chatter, for he was simply no good at it and had very little to say. Few appreciated his brutal sense of honesty and the rather harsh way he came about expressing it, but the cyclops hardly meant harm to those who revolved with the earth around him. He was a solitary soul, after all, and perhaps pushing those around him was a natural part of the process in independence.
But still she remained, and so he had moved to give her his full attention. He was a brute, yes, but he was a man of power and respect; he had learned much since the days spent as Maluki, though the cyclops remembered nothing of them. The moment he had woken, his eye sightless and bloodied, in a heap on the ground below the fence of the Jefferson factory he knew nothing about, the brute had been a new creature. At first he'd lived his days vengefully, unafraid to attack and kill when threatened, for it seemed threats came in at every angle. Maluki, he learned soon, had left him quite the reputation and prestige.
"Skoll, no," he said, shaking his head patiently. The brute paused, thinking, before speaking once more. "Why do you know of my mother and half-brother?"
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