[It's some small reassurance that even if the truth is forced, all of it, painful and clear as day .. at least Vincent wasn't going to abuse it, or use it to hurt him. It's a measure of safety.
But only a measure. He hates the compulsion, almost as much as he hates knowing it's not okay to want to deviate from what he had to do. To entertain even for a moment such self-centered wishes as not having to do any of it. Vincent was biased, and wouldn't say so, so he only shakes his head slightly. It's not okay.
He can guess who the loved one was, in that brief retelling. Who that future was supposed to be with.
Sephiroth wasn't the only one she left behind. Maybe Vincent wondered why as often as he did. Why none of them were enough to keep her anywhere they could find her.]
Nature is cruel, so it'd balance. Nature's not compassionate to the prey ripped open and eaten alive by its predator, and doesn't extend care either to the starving predator. Pain is ... the planet's method of teaching. Why should I be any different?
[He struggled to consider the planet as anything more than nature's laws, red in tooth and claw, that it could think, could plan, could really deliberately cause any of this besides instinctive vindictiveness was strange.
But a wounded animal, lashing out at its tormenters? At the thing that nearly killed it? Sure.
He didn't blame Thirteen at all, but Vincent's words get a low noise of acknowledgment at least.]
If it wasn't for the Fox, a lot of people would die who don't have to.
[It was more than he thought he could carry, but the Fox seemed to have faith in him even if he had none in himself. If they were to meet their greatest potential and return with it, then if no-one else did, Thirteen was certain he could overcome.
Somehow it wasn't reassuring.
Or the follow-up question.]
I don't want friends. [It's true and True; he can't lie. But there's pain lanced through it, though it doesn't show in his voice.] I don't have time for friends. And the ones I'm supposed to have weren't any help anyway. I don't want to do things that I know will make it harder later. Getting attached to someone only to have them leave hurts.
[It's not a pain he'd been taught how to resist.]
I'd have gone, if .. any of them asked me to. If Lucia insisted, if Matt said it was logical, if Glenn ... could look at me with anything but disgust. I thought they were my friends. And they left. The next ones will leave too. Or I'll have to leave them here, like I have to leave you here; either way I'll be alone. What's ... what's the point except to prove the Professor's right?
no subject
But only a measure. He hates the compulsion, almost as much as he hates knowing it's not okay to want to deviate from what he had to do. To entertain even for a moment such self-centered wishes as not having to do any of it. Vincent was biased, and wouldn't say so, so he only shakes his head slightly. It's not okay.
He can guess who the loved one was, in that brief retelling. Who that future was supposed to be with.
Sephiroth wasn't the only one she left behind. Maybe Vincent wondered why as often as he did. Why none of them were enough to keep her anywhere they could find her.]
Nature is cruel, so it'd balance. Nature's not compassionate to the prey ripped open and eaten alive by its predator, and doesn't extend care either to the starving predator. Pain is ... the planet's method of teaching. Why should I be any different?
[He struggled to consider the planet as anything more than nature's laws, red in tooth and claw, that it could think, could plan, could really deliberately cause any of this besides instinctive vindictiveness was strange.
But a wounded animal, lashing out at its tormenters? At the thing that nearly killed it? Sure.
He didn't blame Thirteen at all, but Vincent's words get a low noise of acknowledgment at least.]
If it wasn't for the Fox, a lot of people would die who don't have to.
[It was more than he thought he could carry, but the Fox seemed to have faith in him even if he had none in himself. If they were to meet their greatest potential and return with it, then if no-one else did, Thirteen was certain he could overcome.
Somehow it wasn't reassuring.
Or the follow-up question.]
I don't want friends. [It's true and True; he can't lie. But there's pain lanced through it, though it doesn't show in his voice.] I don't have time for friends. And the ones I'm supposed to have weren't any help anyway. I don't want to do things that I know will make it harder later. Getting attached to someone only to have them leave hurts.
[It's not a pain he'd been taught how to resist.]
I'd have gone, if .. any of them asked me to. If Lucia insisted, if Matt said it was logical, if Glenn ... could look at me with anything but disgust. I thought they were my friends. And they left. The next ones will leave too. Or I'll have to leave them here, like I have to leave you here; either way I'll be alone. What's ... what's the point except to prove the Professor's right?