IP: 173.239.240.55
Posted on September 21, 2017 at 09:55:22 AM by TARQUiN
He burns everything he touches, and perhaps he doesn't really know how to be sorry for that. This is not a new concept for him, and it's likely this will continue on and on the way that his existence has. He was impulsive and reckless, and lapses in that doesn't mean he's gotten better. Temporary fixes are only that. His life had been a patchwork quilt of bad choices and mistakes, and there was only irony in the way they seamed together in splashes of vibrant color. It's safe to say that he's both a better and worse person than he had been before everything in his life began to unravel in the worst of ways. The very best part of it was the fact that he was well aware just where the pivotal point had been. That kind of insight was dangerous and detrimental. And it also made no real difference. It was added pain and nothing more than that.
He feels the way Echidna shivers and it sets off that odd little instinct within him and he sends out heat in soft little waves from his skin; offering the warmth without a word. His emotions had been such a big part of his life, and they had dragged him down and through the dirt. Quinn couldn't recognize something good for him if it hit him in the face, and he was the parasite that fed off of everyone around himself. This was simply who he was, and he didn't have the capacity to be merciful about any of it, either. He was all too aware of all the sticky webs he had woven through the years as he laid here. He could put himself out there all he wanted, but in the end he was often too selfish to be any good for anyone around him. When he wasn't, the situation was always too deep to end well.
The least selfish thing he could do was to just let go, so he had obviously been able to do it from time to time, but the second that thing was dangled in his face again? He had some very serious weaknesses, and he couldn't fix himself. He had tried; over and over, he had tried to. Different ways, different places, different ambitions. Where did that leave him? Same place as always. He learned a few things along the way, but he managed to forget helpful life lessons the more he let his emotions win over. Quinn knows that everything was ephemeral. No one stayed, nothing lasted. He had tried to tell himself that it was all about living in the moment as they came, to let nothing go by without living it to the fullest, but that was after so long of holding himself back because it might not be the right thing or time to do anything else.
Both ideas failed, and there was no real break even to be found. Quinn wasn't sure how to be cold enough to save himself from all the pain, but he knew that it was something that he should want to reach. If he could just hack it, then it might work for him. The pain of it all made it more real, and maybe he's just had enough of real by now. That had always been a problem in reaching out, and he made steps before to shake out of that. Problem was, that it only backfired on him all the more. Or he found some meaning behind it all. Some way around it, some way to self destruct all the more. He was good at that part. Finding all the most creative ways to cause himself more pain. Pushing other people into hurting him without thinking that he had meant to do it.
When Echidna speaks, Quinn settles his gaze on her. Her words stir at something within him, and he says the first thing that comes to mind, no filter from brain to mouth, no real thought on what it is or what it means or could mean. "I want the world on it's knees and I want the fight of it all." It hits him suddenly as he's glancing at his fingers, and then his gaze flicks up to Echidna, and there's just the hint of deviant softness to his lips as he smiles. "I want chaos." Maybe that was what's been deep down all this time; he doesn't know. Perhaps being with the dead was what he needed, because this train of thought certainly couldn't be good. Quinn doesn't try to divert her away from thinking that life sucked, because he couldn't say that he disagreed with her. He agreed well enough with the statements provided.
His gaze turns sharp for a moment at the meanings in between her words as they continued, and he's silent when she becomes more blunt on the matter of them. She's speaking of resolutions and spite, of happy endings -- that he doesn't believe exist anyhow -- and she's saying something about him finding someone better. "Better is irrelevant. Eye of the beholder and all that. I'm pretty fucking blind, if you haven't realized." He points out without blinking, though she wasn't done yet and he isn't sure what he thinks about the rest of the speech yet. He zeroes in on one part in particular. "What does decent mean to me? Unless the meaning of the word is defined on a personal basis, because in that case, I can't. It never works." A pause. "And let's be honest, I'm the sum of everyone I've let touch me. Cut that all away, and is there anything I actually want for myself? I don't think there is." His gaze is intense now; burning.
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