[ The conclusion is clear enough that Krouse wonders how he missed it. It's not like him to take things at face value, or it didn't use to be. He could pin it on the conditioning, if he wanted to, but the surge of dull aversion that comes with the articulation of the point makes him suspect this is something he obscured all on his own.
He looks at the grass he's weaving, fragile bruised strands melding together in a green-staining cord. Bringing people together isn't that different. Cut them off at the roots, soften them up, and twine them into a whole. He knows plenty about that.
His smile slipped somewhere after Noelle's. He brings it back, a nearly cocky smirk creasing the corners of his dark eyes as he lifts his head. ]
Come on. [ He cajoles. ] You know me. Since when did I ever do what people wanted me to?
[ The joke's cutting edge is turned back on himself, a slit of bitterness that goes against everything he's trying to achieve here. Noelle will be able to see the regret that follows it in the flash of him looking away, getting a grip more reflex than choice.
He hears the you. If there's an implication, he's keeping it where he kept the realization about the river. ]
Hey.
[ He brightens, the light only half-artificial, as he nods at a biped rising up from behind a growing brick wall with a bucket and trowel in its metal hands. ]
no subject
He looks at the grass he's weaving, fragile bruised strands melding together in a green-staining cord. Bringing people together isn't that different. Cut them off at the roots, soften them up, and twine them into a whole. He knows plenty about that.
His smile slipped somewhere after Noelle's. He brings it back, a nearly cocky smirk creasing the corners of his dark eyes as he lifts his head. ]
Come on. [ He cajoles. ] You know me. Since when did I ever do what people wanted me to?
[ The joke's cutting edge is turned back on himself, a slit of bitterness that goes against everything he's trying to achieve here. Noelle will be able to see the regret that follows it in the flash of him looking away, getting a grip more reflex than choice.
He hears the you. If there's an implication, he's keeping it where he kept the realization about the river. ]
Hey.
[ He brightens, the light only half-artificial, as he nods at a biped rising up from behind a growing brick wall with a bucket and trowel in its metal hands. ]
There's one.