The expression on his face is a familiar one. One of the handful that I've seen from Damian, but perhaps familiar beyond that as well. I don't know whether it's one that I'd sooner expect to see in a mirror, or one that reminds me of Talia from some time ago, the way she always looked when I wouldn't fall in line with her plans. When she couldn't have things her way. I can picture her type of devotion as applied to a beloved son, trying her best to grant him his wishes and desires, hoping that it'll be what keeps him around to help construct the world of her dreams. A world where the two of us stand on top.
All too possible, and yet implausible all at once.
I know that he must have found it tiresome, overturning every rock, seeking the truth rather than taking the word of strangers. I have no place to be proud. I haven't raised him. I'm not even responsible for the cape on his shoulders. Still... if nothing else, I trust him.
"No one decides to leave, as far as we know," I reply, voice tight with irritation. "There's no reason to give up the attempt."
There's a pause, and my next remark seems to answer his question. "Did you take up the mantle before I disappeared?"
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Date: 2011-11-11 03:14 am (UTC)All too possible, and yet implausible all at once.
I know that he must have found it tiresome, overturning every rock, seeking the truth rather than taking the word of strangers. I have no place to be proud. I haven't raised him. I'm not even responsible for the cape on his shoulders. Still... if nothing else, I trust him.
"No one decides to leave, as far as we know," I reply, voice tight with irritation. "There's no reason to give up the attempt."
There's a pause, and my next remark seems to answer his question. "Did you take up the mantle before I disappeared?"