[ Behind closed eyes Isley imagines the catastrophic results his wrath would have upon the whole of Anatole. It is necessary to control his expression, to keep a wistful smile from materializing upon his lips.

Would the destruction of this city be as memorable as that of Pieta? Would the lights blinking out one by one be as beautiful to behold from the distance?

It was difficult to say without any who might appreciate the macabre attraction at his side. ]

I would suggest the alternative of imprisoning me here, in Dismas, however... [ His eyes open, boring into Priscilla's. ] ...I suspect this would also dissatisfy you. Certainly it would me, whether I was willing or not, although I suppose it would depend almost entirely upon the duration and terms of the imprisonment.

[ A beat. ]

That said, the point that you have made is beyond valid; we're stuck, for the moment, going around in circles, without a solution to either of our positions... and without a means of putting this behind us strictly for the sake of moving forward.

I dislike being stagnant, Priscilla... I would much rather come to some sort of compromise than grow inactive.

Something is better than nothing at all.