[ He tries hard not to let it get to him, the way she's so determined for her hopelessness to expand to outer space, tearing apart the stratosphere as she pilots her fucking Death-Wish mobile straight into hell. Whenever her eyes get that way, so dull and unblinking, he recognizes it even from ten yards away: that I-don't-care-about-anything-anywhere-anymore-ness that once defined his life, a corrosive dark outline of ichor. He knows it, because he's lived it. He hadn't been in a good state after the war ended -- suicidal in fact. ]
[ But he's much better now. Now, he'd be relieved to die, or else kill. Either will do. As long as a decisive blow is struck for disengagement. ]
[ (It makes him wonder what the fuck he is doing here, one human wreckage trying in his own twisted way to help another. Is that all it comes down to, preserving the status quo of your own life, even when it is only marginally less miserable than the ultimate coup de grace?) ]
[ (Apparently.) ]
[ He doesn't glance at Korra, though the ripples of her shock are palpable. He sprawls back across the pillows, arms folded behind his head, for all appearances as if he's settling in for a nap. (A lie, like so many others: his whole body threatens to betray days of stoppered restlessness, impatience, ill humor -- but there is no way to brutalize his rebellious flesh into submission. No available outlets at the moment, anyway.) ]
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JAAAA
Date: 2015-03-26 02:18 am (UTC)[ But he's much better now. Now, he'd be relieved to die, or else kill. Either will do. As long as a decisive blow is struck for disengagement. ]
[ (It makes him wonder what the fuck he is doing here, one human wreckage trying in his own twisted way to help another. Is that all it comes down to, preserving the status quo of your own life, even when it is only marginally less miserable than the ultimate coup de grace?) ]
[ (Apparently.) ]
[ He doesn't glance at Korra, though the ripples of her shock are palpable. He sprawls back across the pillows, arms folded behind his head, for all appearances as if he's settling in for a nap. (A lie, like so many others: his whole body threatens to betray days of stoppered restlessness, impatience, ill humor -- but there is no way to brutalize his rebellious flesh into submission. No available outlets at the moment, anyway.) ]
[ Quietly, ]
I passed it by while picking up supplies.