You're a literal animated skeleton, how can you not believe in an afterlife. I thought you guys had like, hills where your dead go.
[ Y'know like, the Irish. Those guys. Still, there's a harshness to his phrasing that twists a knot in her gut. Understandable, considering what she's heard of the trial, but it's still... disappointing? That's probably the word for it. Someone needs to be the one with any faith in humanity, and it's not Darcy. ]
He could hand it off to someone who does, anyway. And I've been doing my best but he still doesn't give half a shit about me. Same as it's always been. He only cares about you and you know it.
[Wryly,] The Catholics came in and made a big deal of how wrong we were about that one. By the time I was born, the only religion Irish sorcerers participated in was the one that said "actually, godlike beings in control of people sounds like a bad idea."
And I don't agree. I think that the Captain has deeper attachments to this group of passengers than he's ever had before, beyond just me. And the more he sees how he can fit in with other people, the less likely he'll be to push them away in the future.
[It's projection. Wishful thinking. Childish naivety. And yet, he is fully convinced.]
It doesn't translate clearly, and he has a long way to go. But I believe he's capable of more, and he hasn't disappointed me yet.
We were right and wrong. In my world, anyway. Turns out religion is subjective and cultural or some shit, and there's no universal solution for helping people pass on or what's waiting for them afterwards. Kind of hard to be a fundamentalist zealot when a Buddhist ghost straight up ignores holy water.
[ Hence, y'know, why she's a cool Catholic. Still, Darcy's eyebrows raise sharply at the sheer silliness of what Skulduggery's claimed. Because that's what it is. Just... silly. Like Skulduggery had just claimed he's the King of Mars.
Darcy gestures for him to follow and paces back towards the bridge, close enough for her to call- ]
Hey, Captain? You give a shit about anyone other than Skulduggery?
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[ Y'know like, the Irish. Those guys. Still, there's a harshness to his phrasing that twists a knot in her gut. Understandable, considering what she's heard of the trial, but it's still... disappointing? That's probably the word for it. Someone needs to be the one with any faith in humanity, and it's not Darcy. ]
He could hand it off to someone who does, anyway. And I've been doing my best but he still doesn't give half a shit about me. Same as it's always been. He only cares about you and you know it.
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And I don't agree. I think that the Captain has deeper attachments to this group of passengers than he's ever had before, beyond just me. And the more he sees how he can fit in with other people, the less likely he'll be to push them away in the future.
[It's projection. Wishful thinking. Childish naivety. And yet, he is fully convinced.]
It doesn't translate clearly, and he has a long way to go. But I believe he's capable of more, and he hasn't disappointed me yet.
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[ Hence, y'know, why she's a cool Catholic. Still, Darcy's eyebrows raise sharply at the sheer silliness of what Skulduggery's claimed. Because that's what it is. Just... silly. Like Skulduggery had just claimed he's the King of Mars.
Darcy gestures for him to follow and paces back towards the bridge, close enough for her to call- ]
Hey, Captain? You give a shit about anyone other than Skulduggery?
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[ She's refusing to concede this. ]
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[he says, as one of those people...]
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[ Same energy as a very small dog on a leash barking at a car. ]