Venom just nodded at Edward's comment, resting an elbow against the table and running his hand through his hair as he stared blankly ahead of him. He couldn't turn back around to face Zex. He couldn't, not without the knowledge that one more word out of that man's mouth would either cause him to vomit or brutalize the Admiral with a paintbrush. He couldn't turn around, not in good conscience.

It looked like whatever conversation the two men could have been having was stalled with his added presence, and he would have asked them to continue if it wouldn't seem rude and presumptuous. Instead, he just sighed again, burying himself deeper into his miserable pile of loathing.

He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to sit at an arts and crafts table with a man with half of a face and a vampire playing with glitter (if it hadn't been for how badly his head was hurting, he might have started laughing or at least cracked a smile at the sight of it) or be undressed by the eyes of disturbingly oblivious man. He didn't want to be imprisoned or away from the Guild and he didn't want to have to kill anyone for taking him away from the only meaning in his life.

But he was here and they would have to suffer the consequences for that.

He wasn't about to interrupt their discussion any more. He only swept his hair down to cover the rest of his face in order to think without the world watching. They could say what they wanted to.