Re: The Jaded/The Disaffected
Nobody had brought him up. Brought up, to Emil, was the kind of parenting that had some kind of input one way or the other. Not the system, where nobody cared much of anything about anyone. Parenting involved some kind of impression of who made you, how they started, all the neuroses they wanted to pass on to you like a game of genetic pass-the-parcel or something. Hadn't bothered with any of that and whatever gems were floating through his bloodstream Emil didn't know. But parenting after you got past a point was over. It was dated, obsolete. There was a reason the system pushed you out the door and waved buh-bye once you aged out. You were an adult, simple as that.
"A little color." Emil repeated it because it bore repeating. The scene kid thing peeled off like chipped nail varnish. He was willing to believe the kid was bristling metal because it made him less soft. Less mushy. Emil didn't knock the rainbows just because they were rainbows. It was the facade. Nicky put enough effort into maintaining it that he punched metal through his face. "Sure. I like color." Flat. It was true. Or he wouldn't have had the hair. But all right, so. The light show, the immediate money.
Emil hunched a little, slid down the wall and then sat. On the floor, feet stretched out in front of him. Soggy jeans and all. "Sure." Nobody asked that question, that way and expected anyone to say 'no'. Emil's face didn't give up the goods. Emil's face didn't say much at all.