Damien
there's some good in this
world worth fighting for
world worth fighting for
Aria finally chose a side—Ronin’s, for the moment—padding close to the cart as if she were part of his escort. Every so often she leapt to bat at a pebble on the ground or whatever little things caught her ADHD-ass attention. Damien let her go, for the time being, so long as she didn't stray far or get in the way of the cart.
“So you’re circling back to yourself, then,” he mused. His tone was low, but the words carried that same weight he’d used earlier, when he’d called the school a good thing. “Can think of worse ways to spend your time than making fighters out of people. People should know how to defend themselves, at the very least.”
The thought sat with him for a beat, then he added, almost wry: “In Halo, fighting was never really optional. You learn, or you get chewed up. But it’s all instinct and bad habits when you teach yourself. Half the time you don’t even know if you’re doing it right—you just know you’re not dead yet.” The corner of his mouth twitched, something between a smirk and a grimace.
His gaze flicked back to the cart, to the straw-faced dummy, and then to Ronin again. “So if you’re offering, I’ll take you up on that spar one of these days. Might even unlearn a few bad habits.”
He arched a brow slightly, curiosity still simmering beneath the words. “And if this place of yours is open to anyone, then I guess that means me too.” He said it plain, without ceremony, but there was no mistaking the intent—Damien had every interest in joining.
“So you’re circling back to yourself, then,” he mused. His tone was low, but the words carried that same weight he’d used earlier, when he’d called the school a good thing. “Can think of worse ways to spend your time than making fighters out of people. People should know how to defend themselves, at the very least.”
The thought sat with him for a beat, then he added, almost wry: “In Halo, fighting was never really optional. You learn, or you get chewed up. But it’s all instinct and bad habits when you teach yourself. Half the time you don’t even know if you’re doing it right—you just know you’re not dead yet.” The corner of his mouth twitched, something between a smirk and a grimace.
His gaze flicked back to the cart, to the straw-faced dummy, and then to Ronin again. “So if you’re offering, I’ll take you up on that spar one of these days. Might even unlearn a few bad habits.”
He arched a brow slightly, curiosity still simmering beneath the words. “And if this place of yours is open to anyone, then I guess that means me too.” He said it plain, without ceremony, but there was no mistaking the intent—Damien had every interest in joining.
