[...Though, of course, it was never quite that simple deep down. He was still grappling to deal with the complexities of what Asimov meant in his life. Like it or not, Asimov did pull him out of the rather dim prospects of the orphanage life, Asimov did teach him a lot of what he knew before coming to Daybreak, did encourage his talents and gave him a place to belong, and did send him here to Daybreak.
...His life wouldn't be what it was without him. And he had to reconcile that with the reality of who the man really was.
And damn. It wasn't easy. But at the same time, he couldn't find himself able to argue on his behalf. Not much. Not yet. The wounds were still too fresh, and he could still feel a phantom pain in his chest where the first round struck him. It had fully healed over by now, thanks to magic, but... sometimes he could still feel that burning sensation when he thought about Asimov. That, and a profound emptiness inside.
He chose to ignore it. For now.
Instead, he'd focus on his initial point.]
...It's more that you called yourself the same thing, even if it was ironic. I'm just. Surprised, at that, I guess.
That's what he said about you on the helipad. What I didn't want to repeat to you.
[Because as far as he was concerned, it was as far from the truth as it could be. Sure, she had appearances, and might even be part daemon. But a monster? Never.]
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2019-12-21 04:53 pm (UTC)[...Though, of course, it was never quite that simple deep down. He was still grappling to deal with the complexities of what Asimov meant in his life. Like it or not, Asimov did pull him out of the rather dim prospects of the orphanage life, Asimov did teach him a lot of what he knew before coming to Daybreak, did encourage his talents and gave him a place to belong, and did send him here to Daybreak.
...His life wouldn't be what it was without him. And he had to reconcile that with the reality of who the man really was.
And damn. It wasn't easy. But at the same time, he couldn't find himself able to argue on his behalf. Not much. Not yet. The wounds were still too fresh, and he could still feel a phantom pain in his chest where the first round struck him. It had fully healed over by now, thanks to magic, but... sometimes he could still feel that burning sensation when he thought about Asimov. That, and a profound emptiness inside.
He chose to ignore it. For now.
Instead, he'd focus on his initial point.]
...It's more that you called yourself the same thing, even if it was ironic. I'm just. Surprised, at that, I guess.
That's what he said about you on the helipad. What I didn't want to repeat to you.
[Because as far as he was concerned, it was as far from the truth as it could be. Sure, she had appearances, and might even be part daemon. But a monster? Never.]