[For an instant, Scorpius looks inexplicably, profoundly tired. The things Stephanie describes to him are so out of reach, they're practically alien. He will never have, nor likely ever desire to have children of his own; he has never had a friend, though not for lack of trying when he was his warden's age. Lovers he takes occasionally, but these come and go from his life like the wind, and he can never trust them: he has a deepening suspicion most are physically repelled by his appearance, and only his power and intellect attract them. He thrives in the cutthroat world of his universe and managed to make it his own: Stephanie is describing a life he knows he will never, ever have. Even if he decided he wanted it. ]
[At the same time, he's...content. He wanted to never be a prisoner again; the Barge doesn't count in this, as it's viewed more of a training or test ground. He wanted to join the Peacekeepers, and found a way around their blood purity laws. Family and friends and small, simple joys he'd long ago given up first as unattainable and then as something he decided he never wanted in the first place.
The idea of friends was fine in and of itself, but the practice was exhausting. Constant betrayals plagued him, not to mention his inability to shut off that portion of his mind that kept thinking of all the myriad ways to use the people around him. By this point, he couldn't help it: it was instinctual.
What had he been denied as a child?
Well. Besides everything.]
Normalcy is not an example I have ever seen in my part of the universe. There never has, nor ever will be a satisfactory precedent.
Our lives are too dissimilar, Stephanie. What you want is not what I want.
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Date: 2014-07-17 03:31 am (UTC)[At the same time, he's...content. He wanted to never be a prisoner again; the Barge doesn't count in this, as it's viewed more of a training or test ground. He wanted to join the Peacekeepers, and found a way around their blood purity laws. Family and friends and small, simple joys he'd long ago given up first as unattainable and then as something he decided he never wanted in the first place.
The idea of friends was fine in and of itself, but the practice was exhausting. Constant betrayals plagued him, not to mention his inability to shut off that portion of his mind that kept thinking of all the myriad ways to use the people around him. By this point, he couldn't help it: it was instinctual.
What had he been denied as a child?
Well. Besides everything.]
Normalcy is not an example I have ever seen in my part of the universe. There never has, nor ever will be a satisfactory precedent.
Our lives are too dissimilar, Stephanie. What you want is not what I want.