Right. Just. Same old everything, only there were bloody daemons there.
[There's a bitterness in his voice, born from hurt. That something so intensely emotional and personal like those couldn't change anything. It was just an extra layer of everything being fucked up.
He'd loved Bertha, in the way you can't help but love certain parts of yourself, but the memories of her have no joy in them now.]
no subject
[There's a bitterness in his voice, born from hurt. That something so intensely emotional and personal like those couldn't change anything. It was just an extra layer of everything being fucked up.
He'd loved Bertha, in the way you can't help but love certain parts of yourself, but the memories of her have no joy in them now.]
Just made things worse, comparing them.