and on their altars you lay your heart of stone
Well. That was one type of Darwinism. He tries to fit this in with his memory of the Theskyra, tries to imagine those proud and capable people (and yes, some of them haughty and vain and stupid) suddenly trapped in a lethal cage, and never, ever coming out. "I can see them doing that," he finally says. "Either because they couldn't admit defeat, or because they're Theskyra, so they're special, right? Strong and mighty Theskyra."
He wants to press her on what she's not saying, but lets it be. He knows what it's like to lose the world too, except he doesn't have any dangerous barrier to walk into for a quick end—no tangible thing to beat himself against in anger and frustration. There's just him and his grief, and somehow it fucking fits inside his body.
"What happened to her?" He can't quite imagine her—a kinder, softer Wessex? Maybe the Wessex that has her face lit up by glowstones.
He's silent for a moment, unsure of how to answer—unsure of how much he wants to answer. "It's not that my family was bad," he finally says, voice a little hollow as his fingers dance restlessly on the stones. "But when.. hm." He's not sure he actually wants to talk about it. He's not sure he doesn't want to talk about it either.
"I just associate the name with a really bad event," he finally says, voice rough, looking away to hide the shimmer in his eyes.
He wants to press her on what she's not saying, but lets it be. He knows what it's like to lose the world too, except he doesn't have any dangerous barrier to walk into for a quick end—no tangible thing to beat himself against in anger and frustration. There's just him and his grief, and somehow it fucking fits inside his body.
"What happened to her?" He can't quite imagine her—a kinder, softer Wessex? Maybe the Wessex that has her face lit up by glowstones.
He's silent for a moment, unsure of how to answer—unsure of how much he wants to answer. "It's not that my family was bad," he finally says, voice a little hollow as his fingers dance restlessly on the stones. "But when.. hm." He's not sure he actually wants to talk about it. He's not sure he doesn't want to talk about it either.
"I just associate the name with a really bad event," he finally says, voice rough, looking away to hide the shimmer in his eyes.
