[ He'd never give it, it's true. Why should he? He'd thought he could get over it, but then he'd done the unthinkable. He'd started cavorting with them, and no matter how much he excuses it as the children, as giving them a safe place, Silco knew that would be as fleeting as anything. The enforcers had come for Violet. He'd already lost that point, even if he'd intended to take her place. He knew what they were there for. He knew who'd done it.
Because those two were Zaunites, through and through.
But none of them would be worth fighting for. Only for protecting. No causes. Only shielding.
None of it had been worth standing for. It nauseated him even now, left him feeling empty and broken, and trying to hold it up, but nothing else had worked. Nothing else. They'd tried the peaceful way. They'd tried to convince them. Hell, even Vander's way was a way β ineffective by nature according to Silco β and none of it worked. None of it. It was never going to work. They'd never let them go.
He knew that now. In the end, they would never get to see it. He wouldn't. Vander wouldn't. Not even Jinx, or Sevika. They would always be intertwined. They would always be at the mercy of Piltover. How long, until someone did something? How long until the council seat was revoked because of another outlandish Zaunite. How long until another riot happened, hidden industry, or more people died in another fissure, and the kettle boiled over? Would they be back to the beginning? How long until the little progress they had inched toward was over with?
It was gone. And Vander was still trying to do this Thing he did. Was it his own guilt he was trying to alleviate? Trying to apologize, seek forgiveness? For something Silco couldn't accept? What he'd done to him, it changed him. He was a different man now. He always would be. It was fine. He lived with the consequences, and became the man Zaun needed him to be.
He still fell short.
He understood that, now. He should have never allowed that child to lunge at him in the rain. He couldn't forgive himself for falling short. For Zaun.
He could never admit it. Not out loud, not to himself, but he hated it. He hated the fact that it had fallen apart for him too. Every single one of them. There would be no nation of Zaun. No dream realized. No nothing. Just topside, yet again.
And it made him angry, and sick, and furious, and he almost does lash out at him again.
But he doesn't. He won't give him the satisfaction of that. He won't let him know how much he hates it. All of it. He wants to writhe and fight and put an end to it all, if just because it would never be right. It would never happen. Just trying to fight the tide, and like all things.
They were just swept away.
So he doesn't respond to most of this. It isn't worth responding. He has no way to respond. ]
I don't really care what you'll promise. And I'm not giving you any indication of where to go. I know you fight plenty dirty, and I'm not keen on experiencing that again.
Go find someone else to punch, if you're having trouble burning off the excess of steam. I'd have thought you had plenty of opportunity by now, but what do I know?
[ In case you think silence means he didn't see shit, don't worry. He did. ]
Text; jesus christ they will never stop this
Because those two were Zaunites, through and through.
But none of them would be worth fighting for. Only for protecting. No causes. Only shielding.
None of it had been worth standing for. It nauseated him even now, left him feeling empty and broken, and trying to hold it up, but nothing else had worked. Nothing else. They'd tried the peaceful way. They'd tried to convince them. Hell, even Vander's way was a way β ineffective by nature according to Silco β and none of it worked. None of it. It was never going to work. They'd never let them go.
He knew that now. In the end, they would never get to see it. He wouldn't. Vander wouldn't. Not even Jinx, or Sevika. They would always be intertwined. They would always be at the mercy of Piltover. How long, until someone did something? How long until the council seat was revoked because of another outlandish Zaunite. How long until another riot happened, hidden industry, or more people died in another fissure, and the kettle boiled over? Would they be back to the beginning? How long until the little progress they had inched toward was over with?
It was gone. And Vander was still trying to do this Thing he did. Was it his own guilt he was trying to alleviate? Trying to apologize, seek forgiveness? For something Silco couldn't accept? What he'd done to him, it changed him. He was a different man now. He always would be. It was fine. He lived with the consequences, and became the man Zaun needed him to be.
He still fell short.
He understood that, now. He should have never allowed that child to lunge at him in the rain. He couldn't forgive himself for falling short. For Zaun.
He could never admit it. Not out loud, not to himself, but he hated it. He hated the fact that it had fallen apart for him too. Every single one of them. There would be no nation of Zaun. No dream realized. No nothing. Just topside, yet again.
And it made him angry, and sick, and furious, and he almost does lash out at him again.
But he doesn't. He won't give him the satisfaction of that. He won't let him know how much he hates it. All of it. He wants to writhe and fight and put an end to it all, if just because it would never be right. It would never happen. Just trying to fight the tide, and like all things.
They were just swept away.
So he doesn't respond to most of this. It isn't worth responding. He has no way to respond. ]
I don't really care what you'll promise. And I'm not giving you any indication of where to go. I know you fight plenty dirty, and I'm not keen on experiencing that again.
Go find someone else to punch, if you're having trouble burning off the excess of steam. I'd have thought you had plenty of opportunity by now, but what do I know?
[ In case you think silence means he didn't see shit, don't worry. He did. ]