Now I know there's no one I can trust - I used to think there was
you can tell me that I'm cutthroat but I think you've got your eyes closed
you can tell me that I'm cutthroat but I think you've got your eyes closed
The concept of being liked by the griffin is both intimidating and strange. Much as he loves animals, Bart has never allowed himself to act on that affection; their father's violence was already capricious and wanting, no sense in submitting an innocent creature to it. "Uh, thanks," he grumbles awkwardly towards Haai, unsure what she even sees in him to make such a snap judgement. A cold pit opens in his stomach; fuck, are these people gonna trust him just because he's Nate's brother? God, but none of them even know the shit he's been through since Nate died. If Nate even remembers since apparently he's the one that croaked in his brother's timeline or whatever.
Before he can linger on that too long and let the sourness overtake him enough to start pushing Sunjata further away, he's kneecapped by the relief of the fact that here, there is nothing to fear. Not for him - well maybe for him, fuck he's still figuring that shit out - but for his brother most of all. Bart wouldn't have been able to withhold violence from this world if he had to even remotely risk seeing his brother die or deal with scumbags all over again. Relaxing backwards into his chair, he runs a scarred hand over his face and into his hair, and doesn't hide the naked relief on his face. "Good, that's...good." Because what else is there to say that doesn't awkwardly out himself in a way he doesn't even have words for himself?
A snort escapes him at the nettling, flashing dark eyes Scarface's way. "Yer biased, Scarface. I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that, gotta stroke m'own ego here." A crooked smirk flashed his way as he props his socked foot up onto his opposite knee, sinking further down into the chair. Suddenly fatigued, overwhelmed by all that has transpired in a handful of hours. Dying at his father's hand, getting sucked down the proverbial toilet pipe to this weird fucking world, finding out his twin's alive but mysteriously not here, and getting dragged into his new brother-in-law's house. Even that's pretty insane by Bart's standards.
Before he can linger on that too long and let the sourness overtake him enough to start pushing Sunjata further away, he's kneecapped by the relief of the fact that here, there is nothing to fear. Not for him - well maybe for him, fuck he's still figuring that shit out - but for his brother most of all. Bart wouldn't have been able to withhold violence from this world if he had to even remotely risk seeing his brother die or deal with scumbags all over again. Relaxing backwards into his chair, he runs a scarred hand over his face and into his hair, and doesn't hide the naked relief on his face. "Good, that's...good." Because what else is there to say that doesn't awkwardly out himself in a way he doesn't even have words for himself?
A snort escapes him at the nettling, flashing dark eyes Scarface's way. "Yer biased, Scarface. I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that, gotta stroke m'own ego here." A crooked smirk flashed his way as he props his socked foot up onto his opposite knee, sinking further down into the chair. Suddenly fatigued, overwhelmed by all that has transpired in a handful of hours. Dying at his father's hand, getting sucked down the proverbial toilet pipe to this weird fucking world, finding out his twin's alive but mysteriously not here, and getting dragged into his new brother-in-law's house. Even that's pretty insane by Bart's standards.
Feel the fear and swallow back the tears
let weakness disappear
let weakness disappear
BARTHOLOMEW
