[He lets it drop there, hardly eager to keep up the connection longer than he needs to-- that's all he needed from this.
And he'll be there before long, looking as usual like he could probably use multiple baths. Ares is uncharacteristically quiet, the easy nonchalance and energy absent for once; it's just this side of complete blankness, and if not for the continued presence of those same emotions in his mind he might seem to be feeling little at all. The instability is still very much there beneath the apparent apathy.
The toe of one shoe scuffs against the ground before he glances up.]
[Prince is, as always, already there before he arrives. He doesn't move as Cathaway through the Station, but it has still been his home for many cycles, as much as he may deny it being anything of the sort.
He is unsurprised to find the boy less at ease than he had been- even if the way he had reached out to him had been less tense, less fraught. Loss like that was difficult to even comprehend, even for one who had done little to embrace their new life. It still hurt, even if it seemed like it shouldn't. Ached.]
Of what do you speak?
[He could look for himself, but he was less inclined than he was normally, and he was normally not inclined at all.]
[It takes a moment for him to answer-- he's always been taught how to suppress things, never really learned how to talk about them.]
I didn't even really know him or anything. It just-- feels all wrong.
[There's too much. It shouldn't be this way, he shouldn't have to deal with it. This should have been something so much easier to get over, and it leaves him uneasy-- if it hurt that way for someone he wasn't even friends with, what would it be like for someone who was?]
He knew what the boy was speaking of, but hearing it in his words helped. There was no truly grateful way to weather this loss, but he thinks it is- not worse, the pain was the same for all of them- but more confusing, more incomprehensible for those who kept their minds and their hearts close. They protected themselves that way, and to find it didn't help, that their careful barriers meant nothing to this was hard. It could make them fearful. Angry. It was their right.]
You don't.
[The step Prince takes towards him is carefully measured.]
It is a pain you didn't ask for, but it is yours now. It is a reminder of the only thing you have left to fight for but your own life. [Prince's hand raises, it is an unintentional thing, the way it comes to resf near the center of his chest] They are wounded, too.
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[He lets it drop there, hardly eager to keep up the connection longer than he needs to-- that's all he needed from this.
And he'll be there before long, looking as usual like he could probably use multiple baths. Ares is uncharacteristically quiet, the easy nonchalance and energy absent for once; it's just this side of complete blankness, and if not for the continued presence of those same emotions in his mind he might seem to be feeling little at all. The instability is still very much there beneath the apparent apathy.
The toe of one shoe scuffs against the ground before he glances up.]
Was that supposed to be normal too?
no subject
He is unsurprised to find the boy less at ease than he had been- even if the way he had reached out to him had been less tense, less fraught. Loss like that was difficult to even comprehend, even for one who had done little to embrace their new life. It still hurt, even if it seemed like it shouldn't. Ached.]
Of what do you speak?
[He could look for himself, but he was less inclined than he was normally, and he was normally not inclined at all.]
no subject
I didn't even really know him or anything. It just-- feels all wrong.
[There's too much. It shouldn't be this way, he shouldn't have to deal with it. This should have been something so much easier to get over, and it leaves him uneasy-- if it hurt that way for someone he wasn't even friends with, what would it be like for someone who was?]
-how do you make it stop.
no subject
He knew what the boy was speaking of, but hearing it in his words helped. There was no truly grateful way to weather this loss, but he thinks it is- not worse, the pain was the same for all of them- but more confusing, more incomprehensible for those who kept their minds and their hearts close. They protected themselves that way, and to find it didn't help, that their careful barriers meant nothing to this was hard. It could make them fearful. Angry. It was their right.]
You don't.
[The step Prince takes towards him is carefully measured.]
It is a pain you didn't ask for, but it is yours now. It is a reminder of the only thing you have left to fight for but your own life. [Prince's hand raises, it is an unintentional thing, the way it comes to resf near the center of his chest] They are wounded, too.