[The way Hector talks about his wife, about working so hard to keep her, about leaving her with a child to raise... yeah, he doesn't like that. He really doesn't like any of it. But he keeps his thoughts to himself, just sighs and watches the smoke curl out of his mouth.]
There's no hope for someone like me. I'm too far gone, but you... y'know. You're better than me. You've still got it.
[He's silent for a bit, and sighs again.]
My girl is better off without me. I've slipped so much since she left, she wouldn't recognized me if I saw her again. I've done things no one should ever do, and I didn't feel anything when it happened. And all these- mind games that Hell plays on us, it's just fun for me. It keeps things interesting.
[His nerves are getting to him, the shame of seeing how much better Hector's life is than his even when they're both in Hell. How much more potential he has. Instead of finishing his cigarette he rolls it in his fingers, charring the paper until it crumbles.]
Look, all I can tell you is... you're never gonna end up like me. Takes years of... bullshit, to churn out a monster. Not a few months of desperation.
[He sighs too, but he doesn't speak right away. He just takes it in. He sits in silence for far too long, Dodger at his side burning his cigarette to ash. He almost touches his face, where he was burned, but he resists. It's not that he doesn't believe Dodger's a cruel bastard. It's not that he doesn't know. But...]
...You say that, but you don't seem happy to me.
[It's not just now. It's every time Dodger's trying to explain his views of the world, every time he spoke of scars, self-inflicted and not.]
I don't think I've seen you smile once. Not for real.
[He shrugs.]
Well, we'll find out, won't we? We've got an eternity or until we work things out now either way.
[He drops what's left of his cigarette, and his hand just sort of... stays in the air, unsure of what he should do with it. He bristles a bit, but it's not from anger... he doesn't feel angry about anything, so he can't shield himself from the way Hector's words hurt him. He isn't happy. He doesn't remember the last time he was happy - not excited, not aroused, but happy.
Slowly his fingers twitch into fists, and he gets up to step off of the bench.]
If it's all the same to you, I should probably make sure my dog hasn't wrecked the place. Dumb bastard eats furniture when he's anxious.
[There's a bit of a stilt to his speech, just a hint that he's holding back some sort of emotion that he isn't comfortable expressing. Again he glances at Hector, before pointedly looking away.]
Look, I'll just... keep out of your way for a while. But let me know if something comes up, I'm in your corner. And... seriously, man, get something to eat. Anything.
[He hesitates a moment, as if he has something else to say, before just... shaking his head lightly, and bursting into sparks. They float back into the building and disappear through the wall, and then he's gone.]
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There's no hope for someone like me. I'm too far gone, but you... y'know. You're better than me. You've still got it.
[He's silent for a bit, and sighs again.]
My girl is better off without me. I've slipped so much since she left, she wouldn't recognized me if I saw her again. I've done things no one should ever do, and I didn't feel anything when it happened. And all these- mind games that Hell plays on us, it's just fun for me. It keeps things interesting.
[His nerves are getting to him, the shame of seeing how much better Hector's life is than his even when they're both in Hell. How much more potential he has. Instead of finishing his cigarette he rolls it in his fingers, charring the paper until it crumbles.]
Look, all I can tell you is... you're never gonna end up like me. Takes years of... bullshit, to churn out a monster. Not a few months of desperation.
no subject
...You say that, but you don't seem happy to me.
[It's not just now. It's every time Dodger's trying to explain his views of the world, every time he spoke of scars, self-inflicted and not.]
I don't think I've seen you smile once. Not for real.
[He shrugs.]
Well, we'll find out, won't we? We've got an eternity or until we work things out now either way.
no subject
Slowly his fingers twitch into fists, and he gets up to step off of the bench.]
If it's all the same to you, I should probably make sure my dog hasn't wrecked the place. Dumb bastard eats furniture when he's anxious.
[There's a bit of a stilt to his speech, just a hint that he's holding back some sort of emotion that he isn't comfortable expressing. Again he glances at Hector, before pointedly looking away.]
Look, I'll just... keep out of your way for a while. But let me know if something comes up, I'm in your corner. And... seriously, man, get something to eat. Anything.
no subject
But it doesn't feel good. He's not that kind of vindictive.
Neither is he sorry for saying it.]
It's alright. Go ahead.
I'll... I'll figure something out.
[He's not trying to die, after all. Not this time.]
Go look after your dog. He kind of looks terrible.
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[He hesitates a moment, as if he has something else to say, before just... shaking his head lightly, and bursting into sparks. They float back into the building and disappear through the wall, and then he's gone.]