[ Vander had always been good at finishing fights. Most of the time it was with his fists, yes, but he could always take a beating β physical or psychological β and then finish it with a swing.
Silco sees this punch coming from behind. He doesn't block it (can't) and though it's with words, it strikes just as well as any solid punch. It hits him in the back, his shoulders rise, and his fists clench at his sides. The thrum of anger makes him want to turn around. Vander was good at being earnest, and honest. Once, he'd thought that was endearing, someone who was such an oaf, so open with their emotions no matter where they took him. Until, of course, they were turned on him.
Ah, that was the lesson he learned, wasn't it? That there was nobody in this world that he could trust. It's something he'd always known, really. He was a Zaunite, and that was the way of things. Maybe he'd wanted to believe differently enough that he'd convinced himself that they could all be different, their little gang of misfits, driven to look for something better. Like with all things they had, it was ripped away by someone bigger, and stronger.
It was why Silco was all jagged edges and sharp corners, why he looked over his shoulder at him with that pitch black eye, a molten prick of hate that burns outward in the center. He refuses to give, he refuses to simply take the verbal punch. Vander has no power over him. He lost that ability on the same day he disfigured him, the same day he escaped with just his life. It makes him too bold, maybe, but Silco doesn't fear death. He's experienced it twice. Once, he was reborn from the water into this new man, and once he was reborn into this new world. Death could not keep him, could it? It didn't want him, and thus, he would remind everyone as to why that was. ]
You're right, Vander. Some days, I wake up and have to convince myself that I can still breathe. So I suppose there is still a shadow there. Not that you need proof that you've left your mark β [ He reached up, and tapped the skin under his blackened eye. ] β now do you?
Enjoy your mystery. I have more important things to attend to, than entertaining you.
[ He most pointedly, will not talk about his feelings about being killed by Jinx. ]
no subject
Silco sees this punch coming from behind. He doesn't block it (can't) and though it's with words, it strikes just as well as any solid punch. It hits him in the back, his shoulders rise, and his fists clench at his sides. The thrum of anger makes him want to turn around. Vander was good at being earnest, and honest. Once, he'd thought that was endearing, someone who was such an oaf, so open with their emotions no matter where they took him. Until, of course, they were turned on him.
Ah, that was the lesson he learned, wasn't it? That there was nobody in this world that he could trust. It's something he'd always known, really. He was a Zaunite, and that was the way of things. Maybe he'd wanted to believe differently enough that he'd convinced himself that they could all be different, their little gang of misfits, driven to look for something better. Like with all things they had, it was ripped away by someone bigger, and stronger.
It was why Silco was all jagged edges and sharp corners, why he looked over his shoulder at him with that pitch black eye, a molten prick of hate that burns outward in the center. He refuses to give, he refuses to simply take the verbal punch. Vander has no power over him. He lost that ability on the same day he disfigured him, the same day he escaped with just his life. It makes him too bold, maybe, but Silco doesn't fear death. He's experienced it twice. Once, he was reborn from the water into this new man, and once he was reborn into this new world. Death could not keep him, could it? It didn't want him, and thus, he would remind everyone as to why that was. ]
You're right, Vander. Some days, I wake up and have to convince myself that I can still breathe. So I suppose there is still a shadow there. Not that you need proof that you've left your mark β [ He reached up, and tapped the skin under his blackened eye. ] β now do you?
Enjoy your mystery. I have more important things to attend to, than entertaining you.
[ He most pointedly, will not talk about his feelings about being killed by Jinx. ]