It is perhaps not within his ability to truly perceive the morals of his own situation. He loathes Risqué, has become entirely violent towards her and all those whom associate with her, his mind unable to perceive any other cause of action, his displeasure so truly great that he has lost any ability to reason, to understand, to attempt to solve his situation. He has shut down perhaps, in regards to the vampire woman, meeting each and every command with violence alone until it is she forces him to act otherwise. An animal however, can be contained only so long, his mind not so cleverly guarded as Tetradore's, not capable of accepting the woman's abuse and cleverly turning it back against her as the other man often does, Tobias continuing to act out again and again, having given up any other form of attempt to understand his situation. It is a last resort, his frustration within his living situation having forced him entirely to violence and nothing else, moving to attack the vampire at any given moment until he can be forcibly subdued or locked away. He acts against her simply because he dislike her commands, because instinct warns him away from her- not because of any moral belief of wrong doing. He does not understand entirely that 'wrong' does not truly even begin to describe his situation, that others may frown upon Risqué for what is very essentially the slavery of two independent beings. He simply sees her as an obstacle without perceiving so entirely the truth depths of her depravity, content to ignore Birdie's word on this, merely moving to meet her gaze- though whether he understands or simply responds to the sound of her voice cannot be said.

Any thoughts on the matter are entirely ended within the moments that follow, the deranged creature determined to remain unapologetic, acting out- perhaps, in response to so much frustration within himself. He cannot understand his own feelings, cannot correctly perceive his own emotions in regards to his existence and as such is content to take this out upon those around him. He is agitated, frustrated, caged by bars he cannot see- his response merely and entirely to fling himself against them over and over- assured that eventually...somehow....something will give or break. Birdie's words are met with a scowl as her own features shift into a sadder look, the boy's gaze narrowing warily now as he regards her, the tone to her words...curious as his attention remains held upon her own, eyes widening sightly at the mention of the frozen treat. It is simply unfortunate perhaps that he holds no ability to perceive the implication of the question within her words, unable to understand the woman's attempt to gleam an apology from him as she asks indeed if he is sure he is not sorry, the boy given to pause mere momentarily- as if attempting to perceive his own emotions once more before his head simply shakes.

"Not sorry. I am...sure."

He is nothing if not honest, often bluntly so, oblivious to the fact that others are not, irony or sarcasm beyond his ability to understand and identify as he continues to look at the woman, a sudden and beautiful smile adoring those lovely features- for truly he is a strikingly handsome young man when he tries, dark eyes softer in this moment as wisps of dark hair tangle within his long lashes.

"I do like...ice-cream."

It is shameless manipulation, the boy seeking to appeal to that feminine side of herself, shifting his features entirely to appear almost more...child-like, innocent and gentle, allowing his own fingers to twist, to trace along her own, miking her touch against himself in this manner, turning her tactics back upon her, something entirely unexpected perhaps as one elbow leans against the table, head resting in his hand in a manner very near adorable as he grins towards her, seeming capable of holding this angelic look for a few moments longer before he speaks in that garbled manner once more.

"Can I...have ice-cream...now? I will do a...trick...if you want?"

Ice-cream, it would seem, is a delightful offer, the boy evidently determined to get it though it would seem he hardly believes it to be free, offering to perform in some effort to please the woman and earn the treat she has suggested, Risqué often demanding such things, a trick for a reward and as such he believes the same of Birdie in these moments. The mention of onion rings sees those dark eyes flicker back towards the food before him, pulling the snack hungrily towards himself once more, content to eat the woman's serving along with his own, the boy a veritable bottomless pit in regards to any form of food. Dark chocolate eyes lift to her own once more as she speaks, the mention of attempting to make Risqué wear a collar seeing his head tilt softly to one side like a curious puppy before a grin of sorts seems to find his features- though whether or not he is given to find amusement in this, or merely mimics her own humour cannot be said.

"Sometimes wears...collars but not....like mine or Tetra's."

He does not have the words to describe the stylish choker the woman often wears, failing to understand that this is truly not a collar at all, at least, not in the sense of his own.

"Does Birdie...want to know....secret that Risky...does not know?"

He pauses now, head tilting slightly once more until he is assured her has the woman's attention entirely, words lowered to a suspicious whisper once more as he regards her, a simper of sorts playing upon his features.

"I...ate her...shoes and hid them......under bed. Many...shoes."

madness, as you know, is like gravity: all it takes is a little push