Of course, because you were simply complicated siblings, instead of close, yes?
[ Silco has never had siblings for real, to have that sort of complicated relationship with. He has nothing that makes him relate to this, other than his once-friendship with a man who'd thought it was better to silence and drown him, than allow him to continue living. Better to throw away the refuse, than let it fester, he added, his own thoughts agitated and spilling out through communion. ]
Grand for you two to build something together. I'm sure it was what your world really needed -- oh, but too bad it is still gone, yes? And your brother is not here to help you remake it once again.
[ His tone is sarcastic, and perhaps a little bit mean. Even the small concession, the hint of a secret is enough that puts him on edge, defensive. He does not want Quetz to know how much about him is reflected in his time in the River Pilt. How he dreams of it -- being tugged under by cold water -- how sometimes he can feel himself stop breathing and --
He rested his chin on his fists, and tipped his head. ]
Isn't it a tragedy, when everything you worked for is just simply gone? I suppose it's not a surprise that so many refuse to let it go, and chase the promise that Meridian sells them. That you could get it back.
[ Again, with the mocking. The faux sympathy padded onto the annoyance that filled him. Silco hated them all. and the fact that they held such hope made him angrier -- and he was already angry because of all the sympathy she tried to force on him through communion. Silco, meanwhile, was the mental equivalent of swiping at it angrily like a cat being hit with a spray bottle. ]
Some of us do not even make anything, and are left with ruins left to look at. Your world is not the only one you would bring back, as... perfect as it may be.
[ Perfect, of course, sounds more like he does not believe that it is. Go figure. ]
no subject
[ Silco has never had siblings for real, to have that sort of complicated relationship with. He has nothing that makes him relate to this, other than his once-friendship with a man who'd thought it was better to silence and drown him, than allow him to continue living. Better to throw away the refuse, than let it fester, he added, his own thoughts agitated and spilling out through communion. ]
Grand for you two to build something together. I'm sure it was what your world really needed -- oh, but too bad it is still gone, yes? And your brother is not here to help you remake it once again.
[ His tone is sarcastic, and perhaps a little bit mean. Even the small concession, the hint of a secret is enough that puts him on edge, defensive. He does not want Quetz to know how much about him is reflected in his time in the River Pilt. How he dreams of it -- being tugged under by cold water -- how sometimes he can feel himself stop breathing and --
He rested his chin on his fists, and tipped his head. ]
Isn't it a tragedy, when everything you worked for is just simply gone? I suppose it's not a surprise that so many refuse to let it go, and chase the promise that Meridian sells them. That you could get it back.
[ Again, with the mocking. The faux sympathy padded onto the annoyance that filled him. Silco hated them all. and the fact that they held such hope made him angrier -- and he was already angry because of all the sympathy she tried to force on him through communion. Silco, meanwhile, was the mental equivalent of swiping at it angrily like a cat being hit with a spray bottle. ]
Some of us do not even make anything, and are left with ruins left to look at. Your world is not the only one you would bring back, as... perfect as it may be.
[ Perfect, of course, sounds more like he does not believe that it is. Go figure. ]