Oh...what's this feeling? Once again being confronted with the fact that they do in fact give a shit but are particularly maybe just terrible about it is happening at full speed like a train wreck as soon as Wolfwood says that last line.
Not too long ago, they remember keenly in the battle that they witnessed the nightmare - all those bodies on the ground, dead. All of those people staring up, lifeless, unmoving.
That's when they realize that maybe, they do care. That while they may not so easily empathize with others, that while they're selfish, and care only about a certain few, that they can care.
Wolfwood was, of course, one of them; and so when they first heard those words, they receive a visceral flashback to that.
Something ugly curls in them as well. It's not hate, neither is it disappointment.
But, it's unsettling. Like how they remember they felt when they thought the idiot might die on a spike (fortunately...thanks to a certain few people, that didn't happen.)
Their hands clench tightly into fists. They can't believe this. They should just turn around and leave this fool of a man. He deserves it. Let him wallow in his disgusting self-pity until he turns into a true husk, squandering his opportunities because he forces away every hand outstretched to him like an idiot. ]
1/2
Oh...what's this feeling? Once again being confronted with the fact that they do in fact give a shit but are particularly maybe just terrible about it is happening at full speed like a train wreck as soon as Wolfwood says that last line.
Not too long ago, they remember keenly in the battle that they witnessed the nightmare - all those bodies on the ground, dead. All of those people staring up, lifeless, unmoving.
That's when they realize that maybe, they do care. That while they may not so easily empathize with others, that while they're selfish, and care only about a certain few, that they can care.
Wolfwood was, of course, one of them; and so when they first heard those words, they receive a visceral flashback to that.
Something ugly curls in them as well. It's not hate, neither is it disappointment.
But, it's unsettling. Like how they remember they felt when they thought the idiot might die on a spike (fortunately...thanks to a certain few people, that didn't happen.)
Their hands clench tightly into fists. They can't believe this. They should just turn around and leave this fool of a man. He deserves it. Let him wallow in his disgusting self-pity until he turns into a true husk, squandering his opportunities because he forces away every hand outstretched to him like an idiot. ]
...