Too bad Legato had one (mostly) calm but determined lifeline to the outside. Rin had put it off, letting him stew a little more and preparing herself mentally, because what she'd said to his filter before she truly had believed: he was pathetic. Even as she was so disgusted with his actions, he was pathetic. He needed help.
She also did believe he'd have to break before he could really be helped at all. But she didn't feel too bad about thinking of that happening. What would be broken had no value at all, and couldn't really survive.
She brought a pillow to sit on and a book. And there had been arguments, of course, but Rin could be pretty steely when she wanted and she'd wanted. So she made it in.
There wasn't really any pity when she looked at him. "Hello, Legato."
Even with his head hanging lethargically, it was clear that someone had knocked him around recently. And, by the way he was all bolted up into a straitjacket, it was pretty obvious that someone had been him.
He didn't shift an inch at her voice, aside from his eyes sliding open, watching her distantly through the all-glass door of his cell.
All collared and leashed. He might not have been strung up over a semi-metaphorical mental ravine--only one chain tethered him to the wall this time--but the sentiment was there.
It was a shame that it had to be like this, but that was the way it had to be. If he could be trusted to not do himself in with his own hands, maybe he'd be loose. Rin refrained from suggesting he could bite out his own tongue to bleed to death, or swallow it to choke, and put down the pillow and waved at him.
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She also did believe he'd have to break before he could really be helped at all. But she didn't feel too bad about thinking of that happening. What would be broken had no value at all, and couldn't really survive.
She brought a pillow to sit on and a book. And there had been arguments, of course, but Rin could be pretty steely when she wanted and she'd wanted. So she made it in.
There wasn't really any pity when she looked at him. "Hello, Legato."
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He didn't shift an inch at her voice, aside from his eyes sliding open, watching her distantly through the all-glass door of his cell.
All collared and leashed. He might not have been strung up over a semi-metaphorical mental ravine--only one chain tethered him to the wall this time--but the sentiment was there.
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"I brought a book. I thought I'd read to you."
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"...What?"
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