[ One thing about overconfidence is that it can get so claustrophobic, acting so sharp and certain of himself of old and ferocious habit. Hubris is like that; Tartaglia never thinks to brace for worse, and it's when he's halfway into imminent disaster that he comes to recognition that he's being swallowed alive by it.
No way for him to talk his way out of this one, either. Leaning heavily into the palm of his hand, Tartaglia's flushed red to his face. There's this wordlessness sitting up high in his throat, when he's well and truly moved, but that's how it always is when he can't find the right thing to say. Rendered speechless, he has to fight to get his voice out. ]
C'mon. I didn't drag you all the way out here to wait around for anything like that. [ Don't bow, don't apologize? ] I like it when you're truthful with me. I don't need anything else.
[ Even if only underhandedness moves him, and even if he only ends up coming off as a sore hypocrite, these are the kind of contradictions Tartaglia lives with every day. Sometimes he's admiring, but mostly, he's blasphemous. Hopping off the railing, he's walking after only a moment's hesitation on the assurance that He Xuan will accompany him. ]
Well, I'll let bygones be bygones.
[ So he's wiping the slate clean. Hurry up and follow him, like Tartaglia's chasing the sun and its scorching plunge across the clouds as he heads toward the bow of the ship. ]
I had a bad go of it, a couple weeks ago. Doubt I even breathed outside of talking. [ Put him in a terrible mood, those days of sleeplessness and endless hunger. ] What was it like, being me?
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No way for him to talk his way out of this one, either. Leaning heavily into the palm of his hand, Tartaglia's flushed red to his face. There's this wordlessness sitting up high in his throat, when he's well and truly moved, but that's how it always is when he can't find the right thing to say. Rendered speechless, he has to fight to get his voice out. ]
C'mon. I didn't drag you all the way out here to wait around for anything like that. [ Don't bow, don't apologize? ] I like it when you're truthful with me. I don't need anything else.
[ Even if only underhandedness moves him, and even if he only ends up coming off as a sore hypocrite, these are the kind of contradictions Tartaglia lives with every day. Sometimes he's admiring, but mostly, he's blasphemous. Hopping off the railing, he's walking after only a moment's hesitation on the assurance that He Xuan will accompany him. ]
Well, I'll let bygones be bygones.
[ So he's wiping the slate clean. Hurry up and follow him, like Tartaglia's chasing the sun and its scorching plunge across the clouds as he heads toward the bow of the ship. ]
I had a bad go of it, a couple weeks ago. Doubt I even breathed outside of talking. [ Put him in a terrible mood, those days of sleeplessness and endless hunger. ] What was it like, being me?