I didn't mean to! [There was a spike of rage mixed with that old shame, and he released Silco so he could punch the wall beside the other man's head. There was a distinct popping sound, and the emotion ebbed away as quickly as it had come.] I tried to find you back then. Believe me or not, I don't care anymore, but I did.
[He understood that what he had done had been unforgiveable, but there had been a part of him that had hoped. Hope was his downfall as much as it had been his strength. Years and years of friendship, of partnership, of being one another's greatest enthusiasts, and it was all gone in a matter of minutes. Their grief had been too much, the cost and weight of failure looming on their horizons as they released the last of their dead... and then he lost his head because of the verbal needling and needling and needling....
He reached up and rubbed the heel of his hand down his face, finally backing off of crowding Silco as the fight momentarily drained out of him. He should have been there, but now he was here having to muster himself for a fight that he didn't completely understand and was entirely suspicious of.]
As if you wouldn't do the same if you hadn't just lost everything. In fact, you did. You walked away just like Vi. [It wasn't the same except there were enough parallels that he could still make the justification.
Another step backwards to give Silco room to move, to run, to straighten himself. Vander finally turned his eyes away as well, reaching out to grab some bandage gauze from one of the carts and began the process of wrapping his right forearm to once more hide the scar. Well, at least something useful came out of this, even if he didn't feel any better. Some fights one lost even before engaging.]
I know. You've put all your hopes, your anger, your traumas on her, and she's become an extension of your rage at the world. You've weaponized her daughter.
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[He understood that what he had done had been unforgiveable, but there had been a part of him that had hoped. Hope was his downfall as much as it had been his strength. Years and years of friendship, of partnership, of being one another's greatest enthusiasts, and it was all gone in a matter of minutes. Their grief had been too much, the cost and weight of failure looming on their horizons as they released the last of their dead... and then he lost his head because of the verbal needling and needling and needling....
He reached up and rubbed the heel of his hand down his face, finally backing off of crowding Silco as the fight momentarily drained out of him. He should have been there, but now he was here having to muster himself for a fight that he didn't completely understand and was entirely suspicious of.]
As if you wouldn't do the same if you hadn't just lost everything. In fact, you did. You walked away just like Vi. [It wasn't the same except there were enough parallels that he could still make the justification.
Another step backwards to give Silco room to move, to run, to straighten himself. Vander finally turned his eyes away as well, reaching out to grab some bandage gauze from one of the carts and began the process of wrapping his right forearm to once more hide the scar. Well, at least something useful came out of this, even if he didn't feel any better. Some fights one lost even before engaging.]
I know. You've put all your hopes, your anger, your traumas on her, and she's become an extension of your rage at the world. You've weaponized her daughter.