[ He said, his tone biting and acerbic. ] We have no such things where I am from. [ It is not anger at Set, for he knows, truly, that Sebastian had a great deal of power to wield. He'd felt it, the surge of strength and power in his body the time Sebastian had showed him, let him taste and scent that power, and how hungry it had made him for more. How much he desperately wanted β needed/hungered/thirsted β for more. More power, more capability, to lay waste to anyone who dared to threaten him, or Jinx. ]
We have nothing. [ He said, his fingers still on the door, as if in explanation. ] We are nothing. Zaun is a dumping ground for wasted, worn out bodies who die in their youth as they toil in factories and the fissures. We have no room for worth, or perhaps it was leaked out of us, like our humanity and worth, while we wasted our few years making profit for people who watch us starve.
[ It's difficult to explain, truly, what it is to be a Zaunite. To be so desperate, to fight so hard for mere survival day, after day, after day. How souls were so worthless to him, and how he hadn't understood. Had it mattered? ] I learned to read, learned how to keep books on my own. I taught myself only what I needed, because every moment wasted on that was a moment I was not working to find food, to survive.
Foolish of me, perhaps, to continue such bad habits. [ He says, bitterly. ] Then again, I am used to dealing with half a hand.
[ He opened the door, but did not enter. He held his hand to the space in the door, as if he was dismissing, or altering something. A spell. ]
Here.
[ Silco reached out with his single hand now, and moved to guide Set's hand to the space in the threshold. To allow the spell to know he was welcome. ]
no subject
[ He said, his tone biting and acerbic. ] We have no such things where I am from. [ It is not anger at Set, for he knows, truly, that Sebastian had a great deal of power to wield. He'd felt it, the surge of strength and power in his body the time Sebastian had showed him, let him taste and scent that power, and how hungry it had made him for more. How much he desperately wanted β needed/hungered/thirsted β for more. More power, more capability, to lay waste to anyone who dared to threaten him, or Jinx. ]
We have nothing. [ He said, his fingers still on the door, as if in explanation. ] We are nothing. Zaun is a dumping ground for wasted, worn out bodies who die in their youth as they toil in factories and the fissures. We have no room for worth, or perhaps it was leaked out of us, like our humanity and worth, while we wasted our few years making profit for people who watch us starve.
[ It's difficult to explain, truly, what it is to be a Zaunite. To be so desperate, to fight so hard for mere survival day, after day, after day. How souls were so worthless to him, and how he hadn't understood. Had it mattered? ] I learned to read, learned how to keep books on my own. I taught myself only what I needed, because every moment wasted on that was a moment I was not working to find food, to survive.
Foolish of me, perhaps, to continue such bad habits. [ He says, bitterly. ] Then again, I am used to dealing with half a hand.
[ He opened the door, but did not enter. He held his hand to the space in the door, as if he was dismissing, or altering something. A spell. ]
Here.
[ Silco reached out with his single hand now, and moved to guide Set's hand to the space in the threshold. To allow the spell to know he was welcome. ]