"He's dangerous, he's got personal ties to someone here, and they've used him once already. It's better this way," Jon agrees, and seals that one way neatly with a fully justified sticker. No reconsideration for Daisy about having done it, no dilemmas for him for having gotten the information into the world. All is as it should be. Everything is fine.
Well. Maybe not everything.
"...To tell you the truth, I--- had a similar experience. At the Centre. It was, ah." It's time for Jon to turn uneasy, for that guilt to seep back in, the two reflecting the discomfort and internal conflict back and forth like funhouse mirrors. "...It was a man there to represent a friend of mine, John Rambo. One of the farmers."
The words stick in his throat, the specifics of it difficult to will to Daisy, of all people. For his first act of inflicting violence with his brand of terror to be upon a sheriff committing unspeakable acts of brutality.
"He'd really--- fucked him over, and I couldn't get him to see it, no matter what sort of angles of it I pulled out of him," Jon forces the words, but skirts around the deeper nature of it all. "I don't know what came over me. I'd just--- I'd never been so angry, in all my life, and so--- desperate to get someone to hear themselves. So, I... I tore it from him, over and over."
Secrets and retelling of tales of wrongdoing until the lungs collapsed under their own weight, a perfect blend of Eye and Buried. The notion makes him feel no better about any of it.
no subject
Well. Maybe not everything.
"...To tell you the truth, I--- had a similar experience. At the Centre. It was, ah." It's time for Jon to turn uneasy, for that guilt to seep back in, the two reflecting the discomfort and internal conflict back and forth like funhouse mirrors. "...It was a man there to represent a friend of mine, John Rambo. One of the farmers."
The words stick in his throat, the specifics of it difficult to will to Daisy, of all people. For his first act of inflicting violence with his brand of terror to be upon a sheriff committing unspeakable acts of brutality.
"He'd really--- fucked him over, and I couldn't get him to see it, no matter what sort of angles of it I pulled out of him," Jon forces the words, but skirts around the deeper nature of it all. "I don't know what came over me. I'd just--- I'd never been so angry, in all my life, and so--- desperate to get someone to hear themselves. So, I... I tore it from him, over and over."
Secrets and retelling of tales of wrongdoing until the lungs collapsed under their own weight, a perfect blend of Eye and Buried. The notion makes him feel no better about any of it.