The Cross Cloaked in Mists
01-21-2014, 07:21 PM
Carlito "Sucre" Dalibor
The brute drug a nail across the dirt, contemplating his next move. He scratched a couple lines one way and then crossed them with a few more, creating neat little boxes. With the aid of the dirt masterpiece in progress, his body relaxed, letting go of the tension that had built out his of gloom and guilt. Family. He did not understand the draw of it, having gone so far as to leave his before he was ready. Were they not more trouble than they were worth? Didn't they harass her and shame her, take enjoyment out of her embarrassment? No, he didn't understand it. Sucre liked his freedom, liked his ability to laugh at himself or walk away if it got to be too much. "If you don't mind me asking..why? Why do you want to find them?" He raised curious crimson eyes to Twig's face, at once perplexed by her desire to find her family and blown away by it. There was nothing that he could claim the same level of devotion to. If he lost something he'd simply find a new thing.
Focused more on his internal workings, Sucre didn't pick up on Twig's response to his emotional flip flopping. He cared more about why he was feeling and how he was feeling than what she was feeling as a response to his introspective musing. This "looking within" thing was new to him. Normally he tried to avoid thinking about unsettling or long term things, choosing to focus on shallow, feel-good-immediately things. It was easier that way-and even that thought was dangerously close to leading to more thoughts he didn't want to have. For him life was best led looking out for number one, the big kahuna, and feeling good all the time. And yet...
He wanted to help. Obviously they had different priorities, but the least he could do was give her a dead end that was so dead it wasn't worth pursuing. That way she could continue on her merry way without being led astray by a desperate, lying romantic and the romantic could walk away without too much guilt. He feinted a sudden remembrance, "Oh! Right, you asked me a question." The brute's eyes rolled skyward as he pretended to search his memory. "Didn't seem a whole lot like you, really. For starters, he talked too much. Bit of a smart ass if you ask me, and oh, was he a liar! " He paused to think and then, "Big fella, and very dark. His cross woulda blended into his coat had the light not been hitting it just right." Another pause, "He didn't offer his name and I didn't ask; probably woulda lied about that too." With that, his eyes drifted back to hers and though it wasn't entirely sincere, he tried to inject as much honesty as possible into his next words, "I really do hope that helps." And by 'helps' I mean disappoints you...sorry about that.
The brute drug a nail across the dirt, contemplating his next move. He scratched a couple lines one way and then crossed them with a few more, creating neat little boxes. With the aid of the dirt masterpiece in progress, his body relaxed, letting go of the tension that had built out his of gloom and guilt. Family. He did not understand the draw of it, having gone so far as to leave his before he was ready. Were they not more trouble than they were worth? Didn't they harass her and shame her, take enjoyment out of her embarrassment? No, he didn't understand it. Sucre liked his freedom, liked his ability to laugh at himself or walk away if it got to be too much. "If you don't mind me asking..why? Why do you want to find them?" He raised curious crimson eyes to Twig's face, at once perplexed by her desire to find her family and blown away by it. There was nothing that he could claim the same level of devotion to. If he lost something he'd simply find a new thing.
Focused more on his internal workings, Sucre didn't pick up on Twig's response to his emotional flip flopping. He cared more about why he was feeling and how he was feeling than what she was feeling as a response to his introspective musing. This "looking within" thing was new to him. Normally he tried to avoid thinking about unsettling or long term things, choosing to focus on shallow, feel-good-immediately things. It was easier that way-and even that thought was dangerously close to leading to more thoughts he didn't want to have. For him life was best led looking out for number one, the big kahuna, and feeling good all the time. And yet...
He wanted to help. Obviously they had different priorities, but the least he could do was give her a dead end that was so dead it wasn't worth pursuing. That way she could continue on her merry way without being led astray by a desperate, lying romantic and the romantic could walk away without too much guilt. He feinted a sudden remembrance, "Oh! Right, you asked me a question." The brute's eyes rolled skyward as he pretended to search his memory. "Didn't seem a whole lot like you, really. For starters, he talked too much. Bit of a smart ass if you ask me, and oh, was he a liar! " He paused to think and then, "Big fella, and very dark. His cross woulda blended into his coat had the light not been hitting it just right." Another pause, "He didn't offer his name and I didn't ask; probably woulda lied about that too." With that, his eyes drifted back to hers and though it wasn't entirely sincere, he tried to inject as much honesty as possible into his next words, "I really do hope that helps." And by 'helps' I mean disappoints you...sorry about that.
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