#{divine skeleton death blast machine broken unfortunately}

[eliteicisms]

@kaanta

Continued from X

  Even after months spent without seeing a glimpse of the man, the once chairman still had a talent for making Bede feel very, very small.

  To say that Bede had contemplated the hypotheticals of running into Rose again would be a dire understatement. It was an inevitability, a dream and a nightmare that came in the guise of hundreds of different scenarios, each one bringing with it a sense of terrible dread or great vindication ( with no room for results in between ). An apology was supposed to be the latter... but as Rose continues to speak and speak, premeditated quips and retorts die on Bede's tongue before he gets the chance to use them.

  It would have been a kinder fate, being ignored. The words, templated as they must be ( an assumption that Bede's cynicism does him the favor of insisting ), send the teens emotions into utter disarray. He's upset, naturally. And Angry. Prideful. Resentful. Relieved, in a small way... Fitting, Bede supposes, how the man's words twist in his chest like a knife; fairy is weak to steel, after all. In a war of indigo and green, Bede's eyes are first to fall.

"What other way to handle it could there have been...?"

  The statement is rhetorical, not so much uttered out of acceptance ( no, most certainly not ) as it is a desperate attempt to strip away at least some of the apology, A bid for any scrap of control he could take hold of. It does little to fulfill the need. Bede's hands curl, smooth nails biting into the skin of his palms.

"So then... what now? You say we left off on the wrong foot. Is that just... a turn of phrase? Or are you suggesting we start forward using a new one?"