But this is such a nice little friendship for now; a pragmatic nihilist drawn to compassionate righteousness because he wants to be better. Doesn't think he'll ever have the capacity to get there, but wants to.
The look Amos shoots D is almost comical considering how fast his head snaps towards him, eyes wide and startled and looking at him as though he's grown another head. Spawned another twin on a portrait. D's confidence in his assessment only serves to throw him further, in part because this is the second time in a matter of weeks someone has said this of him. Fane had, earlier, when Amos was only doing what he thought was right.
And now D.
Amos stares at him as they walk, silent. The snow crunching under his boots is suddenly very loud. He doesn't know what to do with this.
Finally, ] I'm trying.
[ And, ] You seem the type it comes natural to.
[ Trying to impress a point: it's a nice sentiment, and one he'll sit with that night and try to make sense of in himself and what it means for him, but D is still better than him. Amos will, inevitably, fuck up. (Hence: all the potential murdering.) D... probably won't, and that's a lofty, impossible goal for him.
Amos nods up ahead of them. ]
My place is on the next block.
[ Is he trying to get out of this conversation, switch to something he actually can talk about (machines)? Does he want to, or is he just informing D they're just about at their destination? He has no clue. ]
no subject
But this is such a nice little friendship for now; a pragmatic nihilist drawn to compassionate righteousness because he wants to be better. Doesn't think he'll ever have the capacity to get there, but wants to.
The look Amos shoots D is almost comical considering how fast his head snaps towards him, eyes wide and startled and looking at him as though he's grown another head. Spawned another twin on a portrait. D's confidence in his assessment only serves to throw him further, in part because this is the second time in a matter of weeks someone has said this of him. Fane had, earlier, when Amos was only doing what he thought was right.
And now D.
Amos stares at him as they walk, silent. The snow crunching under his boots is suddenly very loud. He doesn't know what to do with this.
Finally, ] I'm trying.
[ And, ] You seem the type it comes natural to.
[ Trying to impress a point: it's a nice sentiment, and one he'll sit with that night and try to make sense of in himself and what it means for him, but D is still better than him. Amos will, inevitably, fuck up. (Hence: all the potential murdering.) D... probably won't, and that's a lofty, impossible goal for him.
Amos nods up ahead of them. ]
My place is on the next block.
[ Is he trying to get out of this conversation, switch to something he actually can talk about (machines)? Does he want to, or is he just informing D they're just about at their destination? He has no clue. ]