[ Claude sinks down to his haunches as Miller steps towards him, a wave of weariness washing over him. He doesn't need mind reading powers to know what Miller is thinking -- he knows that expression of suspicion, that expression of distrust. It's the expression worn most around him back home, where he doesn't have the benefit of none in Aldrip knowing who he is, or what rumours surround him. He wishes he could feel bitter about it, but he cannot.
To act on this is normal. It's to protect innocents in Aldrip, though he hasn't the faintest clue what Miller wishes to do with him, to him. He had told Ethlyn once that if he were ever to turn into a monster, that he would like for her to kill him, an idea that she had reluctantly agreed to. Now that that possibility draws nearer, he is finding the idea of another noble sacrifice to sit poorly in his stomach.
Just as Claude doesn't need any powers to know that Miller is suspicious of him, he knows that Miller hardly needs anything but a functioning brain in order to put two and two together, between his own odd behaviour and the fact that he's too silent, too stoic a man to have spoken his worries aloud. Claude rubs at his cheek, resignation slowly spreading across his features -- better that than embracing what truly swells in his chest.
It doesn't do for a guy like him to be fearful, after all. ]
No, [ he says quietly, a corner of his mind registering the worry of Toph having gone missing in the wake of all this; he is concerned for her safety, but also by the fact that she is likely more powerful than several of them combined. ] I'm sorry, I haven't heard a thing about her, or from her. You'll have to check out some of her usual haunts to see if maybe she's busied herself with... oh, I don't know, helping erect a stronghold? That's more her speed.
[ With some effort, he lifts his chin to meet Miller's gaze head-on, as though challenging him to say something. ]
[ It is now quite clear that the conversation that they're having is simply a covering for the potential of addressing the elephant in the room. Miller listens to what he says, stopping his approach once they're about an arm's length apart, but even his thoughts barely acknowledge it at all. Not because it isn't important, but because there is a more clear and present issue now.
So, why does he look so hesitant? Is he scared? Is that really the way a monster would act? It makes him remember what happened all those months ago, when he had forced them into a confrontation because Claude was trying to protect Minato. It hadn't ended well and, even now, when he knows taking that behavior into account as if it matters when who the hell knows what state of mind he's in now, Miller can't help but grant him some leeway.
He looks down at him, not saying anything at first. But the odd silence that exists now does suggest this is going somewhere besides discussing Toph's whereabouts, and Claude is privy to the space being filled with thoughts instead.
That this is a terrible place for another confrontation. That it's a risk to make a direct accusation. But finally, ]
Why? Planning on killing me again? [ The curve of Claude's mouth his somehow sweet, a challenging spark in his eyes as he laughs humourlessly at his own joke, then shakes his head. ] Sorry, sorry. That was a bad joke.
[ It's difficult to see Claude's true emotions. It always has been. But if Miller looks carefully, he'll see past his dissembling to the core of the man, the way his jaw works and his shoulders hunch, a spasm of fear seeming to tremble through him as he scratches idly at what he had thought was merely a rash on his forearm. He can't seem to figure out what to say, or how to say it.
Miller has put some measure of trust in him to confess what's going on without him being cornered into it, here in this place filled with the injured and the infirm, where someone like Claude - someone who is turning into a monster - could do some real damage. He closes his eyes, breathes deeply. Miller could strike him down where he sits if he wanted to. All it would take is a squeeze of the trigger.
But he doesn't think Miller will do that. Not now, at least. Not here. ]
I didn't realize I'd been infected. Truly. I thought I was coming down with something, maybe, a cold or something like it. But I can hear your thoughts, clear as day. [ His lips press into a humourless smile. ] How can a mind-reader prove that he's telling the truth, if he knows what you're thinking, and how best to respond?
[ He runs a distracted hand through his hair, fingers getting caught up in his curls as he takes a shaky breath and says, with great meaning: ] Fuck.
[ It had been a new curse to him, when he'd learned it. He just didn't have the proper context with which to employ it. This, though? This seems to fit the bill. ]
[ That "joke" really catches him off guard. His eyes widen, fists clenching as he straightens up. There's no clear thought connected to it, but he's immediately expecting he might need to physically react, and is quickly deflated when Claude walks it back. He wonders, secondarily, if that was the intent behind saying it in the first place. A bit of bluster on Claude's part, masking the way a difficult to detect tenseness is hiding behind his standing up to him like this.
It's a familiar kind of bravado to Miller. Like the way some of the young Spartans would couch their intimidation in speaking to him behind impoliteness they shouldn't dare resort to with a senior officer. He doesn't usually let them get away with it. In this case though, he just shakes his head, dismissive. ]
Seriously... that's not funny.
[ Miller glances around a little as Claude starts to confess. No one else seems to be close by, or at least listening, which is good. It probably wouldn't be wise to just take the man at his word, but admittedly, he is feeling relieved.
In a way, it helps that the utter stress Claude is feeling over this is so palpable. ]
Relax. I believe you, at least for now. It goes without saying that not everyone who has some inner wish wants something horrible, doesn't it? But just what is it that you wished for? Just to be able to read thoughts?
[ Why the hell would he wish for that? The "at least for now" part clearly expects there may be more to the story. ]
I didn't think I was wishing for anything, [ Claude says, a little defensive. He's a bit appalled by how this has all turned out, truthfully. He's always wanted to be stronger, to be able to be more convincing, to hope for a world as it could be instead of as it is, and to have it manifested as something as invasive and somehow commonplace as mind-reading irks him. He thought he would have been imbued with magical charisma, or incredible might, or anything that paints him as a dreamer rather than a shifty little man wandering around manipulating people.
Which he does, admittedly, but that doesn't mean that's his greatest desire. Simply a means to an end. ]
Who wouldn't want to know what others are thinking? [ He counters instead, even knowing Miller's own private thoughts on the matter. He clearly doesn't share Claude's priorities in that respect. ] You have to admit that life would be much easier if you could discern between what people say, and what people feel. If someone were apt to shoot you in the back, wouldn't you want to know?
[ Wasn't he? Miller raises an eyebrow. Maybe not actively. It doesn't seem to matter where these wish seeds are concerned. They seem to be revealing truths about people that even the subject themselves wasn't necessarily aware of. ]
Normally I would have contingencies in place for that.
[ Internally, of course, he acknowledges the point being made. One could be exclusively discerning in what individuals they allowed into their brigade, and there would still be the odd Lesnitsky from time to time.
There's the metro though, and then there's Aldrip. He does wonder how much of this mindset is leftover from being a participant in war himself. ]
You don't strike me as someone who has difficulty reading others. Do you feel you're under threat here? [ No, let him rephrase that. ] At least, by someone whose mind you can even access.
[ He knows, he knows. He was responsible for Claude's death here. But reading his thoughts wouldn't have changed much in that instance. The threat is beyond them. ]
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expiationlogs2025-03-11 10:18 am
no subject
To act on this is normal. It's to protect innocents in Aldrip, though he hasn't the faintest clue what Miller wishes to do with him, to him. He had told Ethlyn once that if he were ever to turn into a monster, that he would like for her to kill him, an idea that she had reluctantly agreed to. Now that that possibility draws nearer, he is finding the idea of another noble sacrifice to sit poorly in his stomach.
Just as Claude doesn't need any powers to know that Miller is suspicious of him, he knows that Miller hardly needs anything but a functioning brain in order to put two and two together, between his own odd behaviour and the fact that he's too silent, too stoic a man to have spoken his worries aloud. Claude rubs at his cheek, resignation slowly spreading across his features -- better that than embracing what truly swells in his chest.
It doesn't do for a guy like him to be fearful, after all. ]
No, [ he says quietly, a corner of his mind registering the worry of Toph having gone missing in the wake of all this; he is concerned for her safety, but also by the fact that she is likely more powerful than several of them combined. ] I'm sorry, I haven't heard a thing about her, or from her. You'll have to check out some of her usual haunts to see if maybe she's busied herself with... oh, I don't know, helping erect a stronghold? That's more her speed.
[ With some effort, he lifts his chin to meet Miller's gaze head-on, as though challenging him to say something. ]
no subject
So, why does he look so hesitant? Is he scared? Is that really the way a monster would act? It makes him remember what happened all those months ago, when he had forced them into a confrontation because Claude was trying to protect Minato. It hadn't ended well and, even now, when he knows taking that behavior into account as if it matters when who the hell knows what state of mind he's in now, Miller can't help but grant him some leeway.
He looks down at him, not saying anything at first. But the odd silence that exists now does suggest this is going somewhere besides discussing Toph's whereabouts, and Claude is privy to the space being filled with thoughts instead.
That this is a terrible place for another confrontation. That it's a risk to make a direct accusation. But finally, ]
What about you? What happened to you?
[ He's taking the risk. ]
no subject
[ It's difficult to see Claude's true emotions. It always has been. But if Miller looks carefully, he'll see past his dissembling to the core of the man, the way his jaw works and his shoulders hunch, a spasm of fear seeming to tremble through him as he scratches idly at what he had thought was merely a rash on his forearm. He can't seem to figure out what to say, or how to say it.
Miller has put some measure of trust in him to confess what's going on without him being cornered into it, here in this place filled with the injured and the infirm, where someone like Claude - someone who is turning into a monster - could do some real damage. He closes his eyes, breathes deeply. Miller could strike him down where he sits if he wanted to. All it would take is a squeeze of the trigger.
But he doesn't think Miller will do that. Not now, at least. Not here. ]
I didn't realize I'd been infected. Truly. I thought I was coming down with something, maybe, a cold or something like it. But I can hear your thoughts, clear as day. [ His lips press into a humourless smile. ] How can a mind-reader prove that he's telling the truth, if he knows what you're thinking, and how best to respond?
[ He runs a distracted hand through his hair, fingers getting caught up in his curls as he takes a shaky breath and says, with great meaning: ] Fuck.
[ It had been a new curse to him, when he'd learned it. He just didn't have the proper context with which to employ it. This, though? This seems to fit the bill. ]
no subject
It's a familiar kind of bravado to Miller. Like the way some of the young Spartans would couch their intimidation in speaking to him behind impoliteness they shouldn't dare resort to with a senior officer. He doesn't usually let them get away with it. In this case though, he just shakes his head, dismissive. ]
Seriously... that's not funny.
[ Miller glances around a little as Claude starts to confess. No one else seems to be close by, or at least listening, which is good. It probably wouldn't be wise to just take the man at his word, but admittedly, he is feeling relieved.
In a way, it helps that the utter stress Claude is feeling over this is so palpable. ]
Relax. I believe you, at least for now. It goes without saying that not everyone who has some inner wish wants something horrible, doesn't it? But just what is it that you wished for? Just to be able to read thoughts?
[ Why the hell would he wish for that? The "at least for now" part clearly expects there may be more to the story. ]
no subject
Which he does, admittedly, but that doesn't mean that's his greatest desire. Simply a means to an end. ]
Who wouldn't want to know what others are thinking? [ He counters instead, even knowing Miller's own private thoughts on the matter. He clearly doesn't share Claude's priorities in that respect. ] You have to admit that life would be much easier if you could discern between what people say, and what people feel. If someone were apt to shoot you in the back, wouldn't you want to know?
no subject
Normally I would have contingencies in place for that.
[ Internally, of course, he acknowledges the point being made. One could be exclusively discerning in what individuals they allowed into their brigade, and there would still be the odd Lesnitsky from time to time.
There's the metro though, and then there's Aldrip. He does wonder how much of this mindset is leftover from being a participant in war himself. ]
You don't strike me as someone who has difficulty reading others. Do you feel you're under threat here? [ No, let him rephrase that. ] At least, by someone whose mind you can even access.
[ He knows, he knows. He was responsible for Claude's death here. But reading his thoughts wouldn't have changed much in that instance. The threat is beyond them. ]