Re: The Jaded/The Disaffected
Emil had never been a big picture guy. He was small stuff, day by day, strand by strand. He didn't believe in affiliation, politics, had tapped out of participating in the kind of criminality that dealt in signs and turf and long-term jail sentences. He wasn't cosmic, which was pretty clear. He dropped his head back until the mohawk crumpled against the wall, like brush spines spreading and listened to Nicky talk about something so big picture for a guy in rainbow socks, he largely didn't believe it on principle.
Nicky. The guy who smiled faintly, like he'd pried victory from the jaws of defeat. Validation was low-key easy for Emil to deal out. Nicky didn't know it, but he was better off without Emil blowing low-key smoke up his ass. Emil didn't bother generally speaking and anyone who needed smoke was kind of forgetting the point. "So you have bigger daddy issues than I pegged. Good for you," he said finally, the twist of his mouth ironic.
Ancient Greeks. He had a vague, passing familiarity. Emil wasn't a big reader. But they put that stuff on audio-tape. "So prove it." The magic trick, the ring. Emil's chin came up, the lazy drift of ice-blue eyes over Nicky's face. The earnest was there. If the guy thought he had disaffected down, the real him was leaking around the sides.