[ He isn't open or meticulous but Nate understands that methodology better, to run off of tangents and take different paths and use a road less traveled. It is emotional, and it's difficult to separate things when they're as personal as whatever this is. It might be the most meaningful string of words Taako has ever put together in front of him, heavy with something he identifies as pragmatism born of trauma.
He doesn't understand all the disparate parts - being able to come back provided one person survived, how something like this "Hunger" could even exist - but his full comprehension doesn't matter compared to the weight of it all.
A lot of things suddenly make sense, strange pieces in a puzzle he didn't know he was working on, behavior or responses he didn't exactly expect outside of what little he could glean from a childhood similar to his own. It's so much. So much, and Taako's laissez-faire delivery suggests he stopped caring because he had to and didn't have a choice. Nate's experiences aren't even close, but it's like looking in a fucking mirror.
It isn't denial that has him wanting to negate the suggestion that it's all dust, all fetid remains, all fly-blown corpses in the end. Taako's assertion makes sense, it's constructed of a century's worth of effort. Time doesn't heal all wounds so much as it dulls you to new ones, like scar tissue lacking the nerve endings.
Enough scars, and you just stop feeling. ]
Maybe not to you. Or me.
[ He's seen enough wrecks, enough civilizations scattered across the globe and worn to nubs, to nothing. He's killed enough people with his own hands. ]
no subject
He doesn't understand all the disparate parts - being able to come back provided one person survived, how something like this "Hunger" could even exist - but his full comprehension doesn't matter compared to the weight of it all.
A lot of things suddenly make sense, strange pieces in a puzzle he didn't know he was working on, behavior or responses he didn't exactly expect outside of what little he could glean from a childhood similar to his own. It's so much. So much, and Taako's laissez-faire delivery suggests he stopped caring because he had to and didn't have a choice. Nate's experiences aren't even close, but it's like looking in a fucking mirror.
It isn't denial that has him wanting to negate the suggestion that it's all dust, all fetid remains, all fly-blown corpses in the end. Taako's assertion makes sense, it's constructed of a century's worth of effort. Time doesn't heal all wounds so much as it dulls you to new ones, like scar tissue lacking the nerve endings.
Enough scars, and you just stop feeling. ]
Maybe not to you. Or me.
[ He's seen enough wrecks, enough civilizations scattered across the globe and worn to nubs, to nothing. He's killed enough people with his own hands. ]
But it matters to the others.