[ The boy's mood takes a turn for the worse, and Damian observes the outburst, coolly. ]
A sire is not necessarily a father.
[ He's not going to mention anything about it beyond that; he asked only to confirm his suspicion.
(Fantastic. Timelines are involved. He hated this the last time and he dislikes it just as much now. Perhaps more so.)
His stare flicks to the side and back, double-checking his surroundings. ]
No. I've only seen them. You're the first person I've talked to since being released.
[ Released, he says, but what he really means is 'since he escaped the Guest Help Center to take to safety in the dark spaces of the city.' Damian, when he wants to, can do a very thorough job of avoiding interaction with others.
His mouth twitches into a dubious frown. ]
Well, I was dead. Killed. [ Brows drawing down in irritation as he brushes the tips of his fingers along the raggedly-sewn edges of the hole in his tunic. It's still a bitter pill to swallow, that he was crushed so fast, so easy. Those cowards had shot at him while he battled the Heretic, riddled him with arrows in his back. ] By my -- brother. At my mother's command. And I woke up here.
[ Isolated, alone. Lightyears from help. And now, evidently, with timelines and dimensions involved? ]
It's all very Purgatorio. And the hugging thing is ridiculous.
no subject
A sire is not necessarily a father.
[ He's not going to mention anything about it beyond that; he asked only to confirm his suspicion.
(Fantastic. Timelines are involved. He hated this the last time and he dislikes it just as much now. Perhaps more so.)
His stare flicks to the side and back, double-checking his surroundings. ]
No. I've only seen them. You're the first person I've talked to since being released.
[ Released, he says, but what he really means is 'since he escaped the Guest Help Center to take to safety in the dark spaces of the city.' Damian, when he wants to, can do a very thorough job of avoiding interaction with others.
His mouth twitches into a dubious frown. ]
Well, I was dead. Killed. [ Brows drawing down in irritation as he brushes the tips of his fingers along the raggedly-sewn edges of the hole in his tunic. It's still a bitter pill to swallow, that he was crushed so fast, so easy. Those cowards had shot at him while he battled the Heretic, riddled him with arrows in his back. ] By my -- brother. At my mother's command. And I woke up here.
[ Isolated, alone. Lightyears from help. And now, evidently, with timelines and dimensions involved? ]
It's all very Purgatorio. And the hugging thing is ridiculous.