He inclines his head, a look of bemusement curving his lips as he touches his temple with two fingers as if in salute. "That it does. Fool of the King to be exact. Suits better than the name I was given."
Because, for him, it truly speaks of the sacrifice he made, and reminds him why trust never benefits a man. Others may not think of how the name came to be, or why he keeps something with that kind of meaning behind the words, but for Bobo it's as needed as the odd wear that had once been common place to him. Something that he truly misses in this place. Almost more than his abilities. It feels as if he's left behind an armor that does as much as that name.
He falls quiet then, staring at Vasquez for a long time. Silent, eyes narrowing, considering the other man while fighting so many thoughts in his mind. Not about the provocative words, the way his mind and body definitely takes them. About the rest. About starting a new life. About being whoever he wants to be. After a time he gives a shake of his head, dismissing most of it. No one here knew who Bobo Del Rey of Purgatory was, and he doesn't need to shed that to be the man he chooses to be here.
"If you're going to keep flashing ropes and talking like that, I'm going to come up with a lot of things you can say. Scream. Your call," he says, smirking, easily falling into the teasing words intended to push others and push away those thoughts of the past and the fool he had been.
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Because, for him, it truly speaks of the sacrifice he made, and reminds him why trust never benefits a man. Others may not think of how the name came to be, or why he keeps something with that kind of meaning behind the words, but for Bobo it's as needed as the odd wear that had once been common place to him. Something that he truly misses in this place. Almost more than his abilities. It feels as if he's left behind an armor that does as much as that name.
He falls quiet then, staring at Vasquez for a long time. Silent, eyes narrowing, considering the other man while fighting so many thoughts in his mind. Not about the provocative words, the way his mind and body definitely takes them. About the rest. About starting a new life. About being whoever he wants to be. After a time he gives a shake of his head, dismissing most of it. No one here knew who Bobo Del Rey of Purgatory was, and he doesn't need to shed that to be the man he chooses to be here.
"If you're going to keep flashing ropes and talking like that, I'm going to come up with a lot of things you can say. Scream. Your call," he says, smirking, easily falling into the teasing words intended to push others and push away those thoughts of the past and the fool he had been.