[Rinzler stops. She manages that much. His mask stays bowed, shoulders sloped, frame so perfectly, hatefully close to defaults that he could shatter with his own control. But he stops, as little as he wants to.
He didn't tell anyone. He didn't judge her for her secrets. He told her what he knew, told her he didn't care, and she sneered at him and took the option to lash out. He's sick of being made an easy target. Sick of listening to taunts without a voice to answer back.
But it's his fault, like always, because the user tried.
Maybe it is. He can't manage more than a half turn, a twitch, black helmet angling in mute, tired inquiry. The system's gone. Soon all of them will be too. He doesn't see the point of any of this, now.
no subject
He didn't tell anyone. He didn't judge her for her secrets. He told her what he knew, told her he didn't care, and she sneered at him and took the option to lash out. He's sick of being made an easy target. Sick of listening to taunts without a voice to answer back.
But it's his fault, like always, because the user tried.
Maybe it is. He can't manage more than a half turn, a twitch, black helmet angling in mute, tired inquiry. The system's gone. Soon all of them will be too. He doesn't see the point of any of this, now.
What does she want?]