Spared that word, spared that thought. Such conditions had barely ever existed for McGillis, with little comfort to be found in his ascension to the Fareed family as chosen heir. Declarations of love and friendship as if the environment had been one to foster both into bloom, and Gaelio's talk of allegiance to respectable feelings, a reality constructed for him, as if only his word mattered and made it so for McGillis.
The blind man accusing him of never seeing. When, in truth, he'd seen, and seeing had --
Well, none of that matters anymore.
He is content to remain a symbol of loathing for Gaelio, a truer representation of their opposing natures clashing. Destiny.
Whatever Gaelio believes of him -- not without reason that gave way to justification, of course -- of false investment and McGillis's purely vile nature and those consciously constructed masks he'd spoken of during their last meeting, he'll use it as fuel for his purpose. Far better for them both, to keep the festering wound between them clean and angry.
His latest maneuver stays Gaelio, which was the intention. Staying Gaelio brings the calm needed to steady the internal turmoil roiling through him. It is difficult, with this person, to keep hold of himself, sometimes. Still singed and shaken from the earlier assault, he's more likely to become careless because of it.
Distance helps. They stand facing each other without moving. He lets his heart settle, the faint smile pressed on his lips growing fainter. The shroud of his expression flutters when Gaelio begins to speak again.
Another allusion. If it is their Inferno, he will climb up and out -- working hard towards that already, as suggested, before he has taken the time to wander further. Their new environment hums danger at every turn and he refuses to become the casualty of a boar.
McGillis closes his eyes for a moment when Gaelio voices doubt about his own theory, signaling silent agreement. It must be only their good fortune that they would stumble upon each other first and foremost. Eyes flicker open to half-lids, catching that mirthless expression paired with Gaelio's deductions, McGillis giving room to the darker frown that wants to replace chillier exteriors.
It has settled before the reminder of the loss of Bael. ]
Don't underestimate yourself, Gaelio.
[ Cryptic, and he moves on. ]
Wherever we are, Hell or somewhere else, for whatever purpose, I will find the way back to mine. You could see this as an opportunity to fulfill yours, I suppose. Only...
no subject
Spared that word, spared that thought. Such conditions had barely ever existed for McGillis, with little comfort to be found in his ascension to the Fareed family as chosen heir. Declarations of love and friendship as if the environment had been one to foster both into bloom, and Gaelio's talk of allegiance to respectable feelings, a reality constructed for him, as if only his word mattered and made it so for McGillis.
The blind man accusing him of never seeing. When, in truth, he'd seen, and seeing had --
Well, none of that matters anymore.
He is content to remain a symbol of loathing for Gaelio, a truer representation of their opposing natures clashing. Destiny.
Whatever Gaelio believes of him -- not without reason that gave way to justification, of course -- of false investment and McGillis's purely vile nature and those consciously constructed masks he'd spoken of during their last meeting, he'll use it as fuel for his purpose. Far better for them both, to keep the festering wound between them clean and angry.
His latest maneuver stays Gaelio, which was the intention. Staying Gaelio brings the calm needed to steady the internal turmoil roiling through him. It is difficult, with this person, to keep hold of himself, sometimes. Still singed and shaken from the earlier assault, he's more likely to become careless because of it.
Distance helps. They stand facing each other without moving. He lets his heart settle, the faint smile pressed on his lips growing fainter. The shroud of his expression flutters when Gaelio begins to speak again.
Another allusion. If it is their Inferno, he will climb up and out -- working hard towards that already, as suggested, before he has taken the time to wander further. Their new environment hums danger at every turn and he refuses to become the casualty of a boar.
McGillis closes his eyes for a moment when Gaelio voices doubt about his own theory, signaling silent agreement. It must be only their good fortune that they would stumble upon each other first and foremost. Eyes flicker open to half-lids, catching that mirthless expression paired with Gaelio's deductions, McGillis giving room to the darker frown that wants to replace chillier exteriors.
It has settled before the reminder of the loss of Bael. ]
Don't underestimate yourself, Gaelio.
[ Cryptic, and he moves on. ]
Wherever we are, Hell or somewhere else, for whatever purpose, I will find the way back to mine. You could see this as an opportunity to fulfill yours, I suppose. Only...
[ A considering tch. ]
In that case, withdrawing your attacks won't do.