[Dion wants to protest. Clive may be onto something, that everything that happened to him was simply the product of machinations beyond his ken. The intention might well have always been to break his will, but that doesn't mean it's broken now.
And right now, his will says that he wants to be as close to normal as he can. He does not want to fear who he is, and what he can do. His control over Bahamut had not faded, of that Clive is correct. But suffused with more power, with the true might of his Eikon, he fears what might come next.
He glances away from Clive, eyes trying to focus on something other than his thoughts. The walls. The ceiling, his bedside table, and finally, the flower that rests there.
Of course.
He has always been a tool. Even if Clive doesn't mean it, and Dion knows this to be true, he cannot help the path his thoughts go down. The Rosfields have need of him, just as his father once did. There is no choice here, not when there is something he may yet give. Dion will do as he is directed, as he ever has.]
Of course. [There is a distance to his voice, a blankness to his face. Nevertheless, he holds his arm out. He doesn't know what needs to be done in this instance, but he'll do it. He just wants to make it quick, lest the thoughts he runs from catch up to him.]
no subject
And right now, his will says that he wants to be as close to normal as he can. He does not want to fear who he is, and what he can do. His control over Bahamut had not faded, of that Clive is correct. But suffused with more power, with the true might of his Eikon, he fears what might come next.
He glances away from Clive, eyes trying to focus on something other than his thoughts. The walls. The ceiling, his bedside table, and finally, the flower that rests there.
Of course.
He has always been a tool. Even if Clive doesn't mean it, and Dion knows this to be true, he cannot help the path his thoughts go down. The Rosfields have need of him, just as his father once did. There is no choice here, not when there is something he may yet give. Dion will do as he is directed, as he ever has.]
Of course. [There is a distance to his voice, a blankness to his face. Nevertheless, he holds his arm out. He doesn't know what needs to be done in this instance, but he'll do it. He just wants to make it quick, lest the thoughts he runs from catch up to him.]
Let us be about it then.