Dove watches as Kira makes the coffee, his eyes practically glued to the process. He always finds himself doing so when a Ren or Akira at the counter, falling under some degree of trance as visions of something from a dream try to enter his sight...
But he returns to reality as Kira speaks, nodding along slightly as he considers it.
"Agreed. There's any number of ways this could have been handled, and yet we're left to flail about without a single bit of direction. It's quite... frustrating? No, stronger than that... Irritating...?"
He's still getting used to sorting the variance of emotional intensity and the words that suit each level, but the point still stands. It's very upsetting, presumably for every party involved... except Igor, that is.
The drops of the coffee that go into the carafe break the pause that follow, and Dove finds himself lingering on it. The idea that his past is there for casual viewing, the past that is already in question of legitimacy, and that it's at risk of being forgotten if it doesn't get returned.
"..."
...Is he going to forget even more of himself? How much of him will be left at himself? What if there is no more Dove? What if he truly does end up nothing but an empty, vapid shell, left without a single memory to call his own?
He doesn't have much longer to think on it when Kira opens his mouth again, and speaks with a lower tone. One that he feels he should be surprised by, and yet he isn't. It feels real and earnest.
"...I do as well. I can't speak for the others, but... my own past, being compromised to the extent it is, is not something I want being flaunted about."
He can envision it. The resentment, the confusion, the gossip, the corrections. He'd rather be left to experience his shame and guilt in peace than have the criticisms and the holier-than-thou pity surround him.
"I can't speak for what memories will have been leaked, but I hardly have an idea of what is real and fake to begin with, and the very idea that they are out there, able to be judged..."
For a very real moment, Dove feels a deep, twisted up knot in his stomach as his expression seems to darken. A somewhat hollow look appears in his eyes as that feeling of bitterness overtakes him, if only for a moment. At the idea that he would become the hot topic of town, everyone whispering behind his back about the pathetic illusions of what he believes his life to be.
no subject
But he returns to reality as Kira speaks, nodding along slightly as he considers it.
"Agreed. There's any number of ways this could have been handled, and yet we're left to flail about without a single bit of direction. It's quite... frustrating? No, stronger than that... Irritating...?"
He's still getting used to sorting the variance of emotional intensity and the words that suit each level, but the point still stands. It's very upsetting, presumably for every party involved... except Igor, that is.
The drops of the coffee that go into the carafe break the pause that follow, and Dove finds himself lingering on it. The idea that his past is there for casual viewing, the past that is already in question of legitimacy, and that it's at risk of being forgotten if it doesn't get returned.
"..."
...Is he going to forget even more of himself? How much of him will be left at himself? What if there is no more Dove? What if he truly does end up nothing but an empty, vapid shell, left without a single memory to call his own?
He doesn't have much longer to think on it when Kira opens his mouth again, and speaks with a lower tone. One that he feels he should be surprised by, and yet he isn't. It feels real and earnest.
"...I do as well. I can't speak for the others, but... my own past, being compromised to the extent it is, is not something I want being flaunted about."
He can envision it. The resentment, the confusion, the gossip, the corrections. He'd rather be left to experience his shame and guilt in peace than have the criticisms and the holier-than-thou pity surround him.
"I can't speak for what memories will have been leaked, but I hardly have an idea of what is real and fake to begin with, and the very idea that they are out there, able to be judged..."
For a very real moment, Dove feels a deep, twisted up knot in his stomach as his expression seems to darken. A somewhat hollow look appears in his eyes as that feeling of bitterness overtakes him, if only for a moment. At the idea that he would become the hot topic of town, everyone whispering behind his back about the pathetic illusions of what he believes his life to be.