["We both have to do bad to have good." Those words hit him especially hard for some reason and he stops again to ponder on them. Killing people, obviously, is bad. But it's for the good. It's to have good. The people he's killing are ones who want to die, or the ones that aren't playing enough to help everyone as a whole. That's what this is. A collaborative effort. A team. He's helping, isn't he?]
You don't interfere for the same reason I do. I think I finally understand. [He ducks his head though.] You were pretty drunk when I came by last weekend, but I never really did thank you personally for getting Ezio to confess. [Other than the whiskey.] And...I think what happened with Eliot and Felix is enough reason for people to understand why you wouldn't interfere. Neither of us are doing bad...right?
[He sounds uncertain for a moment, but his eyes seem to say he firmly believes he's doing the best thing for everyone. But there's another nod. He appreciates the well-wishes, a feeling of gratitude popping up despite himself. He's so tired of losing here. A victory, even a small one, would help. Still, he finds this line of conversation a little personal anyway. He finally folds the poem even as he holds the paper between his fingers and meets Will's eyes again. He understands what it's like to love someone and have to explain them.]
...you may not believe me, but I do actually like listening to you. [A lopsided smile follows.] I'll listen, and we'll go from there. If I feel it's not important to share, or that it'll throw off everything we're doing, I won't tell everyone else. I'll figure something else out. Is that okay?
no subject
You don't interfere for the same reason I do. I think I finally understand. [He ducks his head though.] You were pretty drunk when I came by last weekend, but I never really did thank you personally for getting Ezio to confess. [Other than the whiskey.] And...I think what happened with Eliot and Felix is enough reason for people to understand why you wouldn't interfere. Neither of us are doing bad...right?
[He sounds uncertain for a moment, but his eyes seem to say he firmly believes he's doing the best thing for everyone. But there's another nod. He appreciates the well-wishes, a feeling of gratitude popping up despite himself. He's so tired of losing here. A victory, even a small one, would help. Still, he finds this line of conversation a little personal anyway. He finally folds the poem even as he holds the paper between his fingers and meets Will's eyes again. He understands what it's like to love someone and have to explain them.]
...you may not believe me, but I do actually like listening to you. [A lopsided smile follows.] I'll listen, and we'll go from there. If I feel it's not important to share, or that it'll throw off everything we're doing, I won't tell everyone else. I'll figure something else out. Is that okay?