[ Vander's hand almost on his wrist is almost... ignorable? Silco barely even noticed. Oh, well, he would, but more important was what his fingers held, when he gripped that shard of memory -- something so precious and important -- and ripped it out from that shard. He hoped it would hold -- things in these realms always seemed so transient -- but as soon as his fingers closed around the memories of Jinx, he felt something settle. Not the burning rage -- he hated Vander so fervently for what he'd done to him, hated him with a rage that had long exceeded the point of no return.
That was a decision Vander had to deal with, a betrayal that had sent Silco careening off the cliff toward somewhere in between hate and madness -- twisted him into something so spiteful and angry that he couldn't see anything else. It made him see red, and Silco had long accepted that his hate was something he could pay nearly any price to indulge. Only one person in any existence could have asked him to turn away, and he'd just swiped the memories of her.
Silco's fast, his blade twisted in his hand, to threaten the hand coming toward him, before he stepped back, his feet quick.
He didn't need to kill Vander right now. No, he had plans, didn't he? No murder today, isn't that a gift? He skittered out of range, his fingers clasped memory of Jinx in his hands -- young Jinx, before she'd found Silco, and there's a moment, brief and...
He stared at the memories in his hand for a long moment -- Vander could probably try and rush him if he wanted -- his thumb on the shard, almost as if he wondered if he could reach out and -- No, his daughter isn't here, and no railing against the world itself will fix this. No, the only answer is to burn it down, and his fingers crushed the memory in his fingers, to turn it to sand in his fist, she may be only memory, but she's also only his memory. Vander didn't deserve her, he thought. ]
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That was a decision Vander had to deal with, a betrayal that had sent Silco careening off the cliff toward somewhere in between hate and madness -- twisted him into something so spiteful and angry that he couldn't see anything else. It made him see red, and Silco had long accepted that his hate was something he could pay nearly any price to indulge. Only one person in any existence could have asked him to turn away, and he'd just swiped the memories of her.
Silco's fast, his blade twisted in his hand, to threaten the hand coming toward him, before he stepped back, his feet quick.
He didn't need to kill Vander right now. No, he had plans, didn't he? No murder today, isn't that a gift? He skittered out of range, his fingers clasped memory of Jinx in his hands -- young Jinx, before she'd found Silco, and there's a moment, brief and...
He stared at the memories in his hand for a long moment -- Vander could probably try and rush him if he wanted -- his thumb on the shard, almost as if he wondered if he could reach out and -- No, his daughter isn't here, and no railing against the world itself will fix this. No, the only answer is to burn it down, and his fingers crushed the memory in his fingers, to turn it to sand in his fist, she may be only memory, but she's also only his memory. Vander didn't deserve her, he thought. ]