Great. Just great. Jigano fancied himself some sort of truth teller or soothsayer or wise person or whatever. Loren didn’t care. He didn’t need the silver-haired stranger—who at least looked the part of a wise man—to give the former librarian life advice. With each word that fell from the other man’s mouth, Loren felt his anger build. The Launceleyns were famed for their rages; while Loren was calmer than most, seemed he had it in him as well. It felt better than being sad at least.
However, anger had always tended to make Loren run cold, not hot. So when he turned his trembling voice and tear streaked face fully on Jigano, the former librarian’s eyes were hard. His voice, when he spoke, was practically icy. “Seriously? What the fuck is wrong with you? Who the fuck asked you for your take on the situation?" No one, and the fact that the other man thought the two of them were at all similar based off of nothing was baffling and infuriating. "I don’t need life advice or comfort from a stranger, and I certainly don’t need it from someone who tries to dress like a sage from a fucking cheap ass play and just ends up looking like an idiot. I especially didn’t need to hear a dumb cliche like ‘you need to be broken before you can find the right shape.’” What an idiotic thing to say. Honestly, who spoke like that? Maybe Loren had, once upon a time, but his eyes had been opened. And he was beyond being nice and polite just for the sake of it.
It felt good to have an outlet for everything inside. Since he couldn’t take it out on his family anymore—they were dead or gone—he relished having a new target. Maybe a little too much: he felt a bit ashamed at how he was acting. It was a good thing, the stranger was doing, a kindness the Launceleyn probably didn’t deserve. But Loren was still shaken from his vision from earlier and in no place to control himself or his tongue. Besides, he’d asked the other man to leave (politely at that) and instead Jigano had stuck around to try and analyze Loren. Unfortunately for the white-haired man, Loren was tired of people trying to tell him who he was. Because the truth of the matter was, he wasn’t anything anymore, just a sad man who’d lost everything through his own folly.
Rolling his eyes at the other man’s comment about staying nearby, Loren turned away. “Do what you want. But I wouldn’t wait if I were you.” Not bothering to bow back—Loren wasn’t in the mood to be courteous, obviously, and he thought they were past that—the Launceleyn simply sank to his knees again, staring into the still blank puddle.
Tears began to fall again, joining the water below, causing ripples to spread across its surface. Once more, Loren was lost to his grief.
However, anger had always tended to make Loren run cold, not hot. So when he turned his trembling voice and tear streaked face fully on Jigano, the former librarian’s eyes were hard. His voice, when he spoke, was practically icy. “Seriously? What the fuck is wrong with you? Who the fuck asked you for your take on the situation?" No one, and the fact that the other man thought the two of them were at all similar based off of nothing was baffling and infuriating. "I don’t need life advice or comfort from a stranger, and I certainly don’t need it from someone who tries to dress like a sage from a fucking cheap ass play and just ends up looking like an idiot. I especially didn’t need to hear a dumb cliche like ‘you need to be broken before you can find the right shape.’” What an idiotic thing to say. Honestly, who spoke like that? Maybe Loren had, once upon a time, but his eyes had been opened. And he was beyond being nice and polite just for the sake of it.
It felt good to have an outlet for everything inside. Since he couldn’t take it out on his family anymore—they were dead or gone—he relished having a new target. Maybe a little too much: he felt a bit ashamed at how he was acting. It was a good thing, the stranger was doing, a kindness the Launceleyn probably didn’t deserve. But Loren was still shaken from his vision from earlier and in no place to control himself or his tongue. Besides, he’d asked the other man to leave (politely at that) and instead Jigano had stuck around to try and analyze Loren. Unfortunately for the white-haired man, Loren was tired of people trying to tell him who he was. Because the truth of the matter was, he wasn’t anything anymore, just a sad man who’d lost everything through his own folly.
Rolling his eyes at the other man’s comment about staying nearby, Loren turned away. “Do what you want. But I wouldn’t wait if I were you.” Not bothering to bow back—Loren wasn’t in the mood to be courteous, obviously, and he thought they were past that—the Launceleyn simply sank to his knees again, staring into the still blank puddle.
Tears began to fall again, joining the water below, causing ripples to spread across its surface. Once more, Loren was lost to his grief.
