[ As she stumbles and stutters harshly back through whatever motive and means had led this kid to the chopping block—his fault or otherwise—all it succeeds in doing is pulling the whole damn thing a little further under the water. Making it all the harder to believe even if he really can't find a reason to doubt her besides the fact that things like this just don't happen... ]
[ It's happened once. At least once, stop saying it hasn't. At least one case out there—not one he'd been on, but he'd read enough—there'd been... the pushing of limits, of powers, all held in isolation, the threat of death, children and young adults at each other's throats. Misguided experiments. Wherever it comes from, it's just as far removed, a clouded notion. Easily some sort of science fiction drivel he'd come across once, nevermind the fact he feels the need to call it a case. ]
[ Anyway, that's not the kind of confirmation Vidal been expecting when making the comparison, and the lurch in his stomach isn't the feeling he'd expect it to dredge up. Not like this, anyway. It's sick enough to think of it broadcast to the world like some kind of twisted reality show, but there's something deeper—a fishhook low in his gut that rips through soft tissue and snags on sinew. Being the only witness (or part of a handful) to a man in the sort of last moments no one ever ought to see... It's more than a horrible memory, it feels like a violation of privacy to have it strung up and mocked in front of an audience. ]
[ The heat rising up his throat is palpable by the time Vidal notices his teeth are grit hard, bitten-short nails still managing to dig hard into his palms as she presses on, fumbling and fawning her way around protecting this... absolute shitheel. ]
Altered the crime— Good reason for altering the fucking crime scene, do you know how much of a psychopath you sound like right now? Almost as much as he does!
[ He doesn't have all the details, and he never will, considering her already rose-colored testimony. And it really isn't his business, is it? What's done is done, after all... So what's with the sudden flush of righteous indignation? Just this flood of absolute unbelievable nonsense finally coming to a head? Testing people, twisting the thumbscrews tight when the loser was demonstrably liable to get spectacularly slaughtered, guilty or otherwise... ]
Toko, there's a difference between wanting to hurt you and not caring if he does. I've worked with way too many people like that — I was one.
[ That last part comes out a little involuntarily, like a hiccup right at the tail end of his thought. Like something that he might have been proud of, back when he was one, and something that clenches up whenever it has to ponder how it feels about that now. Even through the haze of mixed-up memories. ]
There's that needs-of-the-many Star Trek bullshit and then there's throwing you under the bus to see who squeaks first, you or the brakes. Even if it all worked out how he wanted it, shit's anything but noble.
[ You can leave that part off at the very least, kid. It's fucking embarrassing. ]
no subject
[ It's happened once. At least once, stop saying it hasn't. At least one case out there—not one he'd been on, but he'd read enough—there'd been... the pushing of limits, of powers, all held in isolation, the threat of death, children and young adults at each other's throats. Misguided experiments. Wherever it comes from, it's just as far removed, a clouded notion. Easily some sort of science fiction drivel he'd come across once, nevermind the fact he feels the need to call it a case. ]
[ Anyway, that's not the kind of confirmation Vidal been expecting when making the comparison, and the lurch in his stomach isn't the feeling he'd expect it to dredge up. Not like this, anyway. It's sick enough to think of it broadcast to the world like some kind of twisted reality show, but there's something deeper—a fishhook low in his gut that rips through soft tissue and snags on sinew. Being the only witness (or part of a handful) to a man in the sort of last moments no one ever ought to see... It's more than a horrible memory, it feels like a violation of privacy to have it strung up and mocked in front of an audience. ]
[ The heat rising up his throat is palpable by the time Vidal notices his teeth are grit hard, bitten-short nails still managing to dig hard into his palms as she presses on, fumbling and fawning her way around protecting this... absolute shitheel. ]
Altered the crime— Good reason for altering the fucking crime scene, do you know how much of a psychopath you sound like right now? Almost as much as he does!
[ He doesn't have all the details, and he never will, considering her already rose-colored testimony. And it really isn't his business, is it? What's done is done, after all... So what's with the sudden flush of righteous indignation? Just this flood of absolute unbelievable nonsense finally coming to a head? Testing people, twisting the thumbscrews tight when the loser was demonstrably liable to get spectacularly slaughtered, guilty or otherwise... ]
Toko, there's a difference between wanting to hurt you and not caring if he does. I've worked with way too many people like that — I was one.
[ That last part comes out a little involuntarily, like a hiccup right at the tail end of his thought. Like something that he might have been proud of, back when he was one, and something that clenches up whenever it has to ponder how it feels about that now. Even through the haze of mixed-up memories. ]
There's that needs-of-the-many Star Trek bullshit and then there's throwing you under the bus to see who squeaks first, you or the brakes. Even if it all worked out how he wanted it, shit's anything but noble.
[ You can leave that part off at the very least, kid. It's fucking embarrassing. ]