She thought he had been acting surprisingly sane today, and it sent a little thrill of excitement through her to have pealed back the layers of normalcy in search of the dark and sinister. It had always felt like the most real aspect of humanity, and it was a comfort to see it displayed, to lose the almost jovial Scotty she'd walked into the lift with. She couldn't help it; she laughed.

"I've always liked a little mess," she answered, voice almost enthusiastic. "So I'd prefer the stabbing, to tell you the truth. But it would be much better if you did a little cutting first. I could use a few designs on my skin," she said, idly brushing her fingers along the cuts on her arm, smearing the blood. She brought the bloody fingers to her lips and flicked her tongue over them. "I bet you could be artistic, Scotty, if you really wanted to."