Date: 2020-09-15 09:50 pm (UTC)
mycrosstobear: ((where were you where were you?))
[He looks back up at her now, not sure if that's reasonable deference to experience or more of her frequent self-deprecation.

She doesn't trust things very easily, does she?

He's sure one to comment on that.

His gaze drops back to the ashtray again, and he reminds himself not to take out a cigarette. It's another few moments before he speaks.
]

I had a friend, at the orphanage where I grew up. [They're talking about friendship, after all, aren't they? Maybe he can talk about things in those terms.] He had some problems, and he cried all the time, but he was a good kid. Liked helping people. But he ended up leaving, and after that... He got taken in by people who brought out the worst in him. [The Eye of Michael. The perfect tool.] He killed people, for them.

But...he stopped. It took a lot to get through to him, but he turned against those people. He realized he really could still help people, not just hurt them.

[It'd sound like a story even to some people in his world, but Wolfwood has the first-hand experience. He's been out and about.]
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Nicholas D. Wolfwood

April 2023

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