there's an old man sitting on the throne there saying i probablly shouldn't be so mean
Having been lost so completely in my own thoughts, I didn’t hear him approach until he spoke. I jerked my head around, startled. My blue eyes stare out from behind a thick, black forelock, my gaze pointed to show my irritation. I am, however, curious at his question, his odd coloring, his limp. Yes, I had noticed. I notice everything.
My gaze softens as I mull over his question. Was I disappointed? Maybe just bored? Frustrated? A whole slew of emotions crosses my mind before I realize my answer. ”Both.” My voice is hoarse; I haven’t spoken out loud in so long. I had always much more preferred the company of my own head that that of others. It had even taken Kendry a bit to break through my icey façade.
At least he had some manners. He did apologize for breaking my silence. In a way. I shake my forelock from my face and turn my body to better face him. I didn’t want to seem rude. I may be many things, but rude wasn’t one of them. ”Achilles,” I say, repeating his name back to him with a nod. ”I’m Banks. And I’m afraid I’m not the best company to have.”
It’s an honest statement but I make no move to turn away or ignore him. Instead, I just blink in his direction, still curious to his coloring. And the limp. But that would be rude to ask. Wouldn’t it?