[Before he can open his mouth to respond, he feels the push of the Darkling's mind precariously close to his own. It's an immediate response (a bit too knee-jerk, when he reviews this conversation later) how quickly those walls are reinforced. From brick to steel, by sheer force of will. He knows this man is trying to make a point, but he sees no reason why not to oblige him; too long has Bruce been a secretive man. The threat of having everything about himself revealed is alien enough that his reaction is stronger than it should be.
(Ironically, pushing back so hard reveals a bit of himself, anyway. That steel wall, one hundred feet high, is accompanied by the defiant screeching of bats, as if his willpower takes it own sort of personification.)
He doesn't hide his frown, even as he keeps up the barrier.]
No, I was asking if it was possible. I don't know any of you. I don't trust any of you, yet. [At least he's an honest man. He wants to keep distrusting, even though the closeness of bonds within the brood compel him otherwise.]
I'm a business man. [And much more than that. In some ways it's a lie of omission, in some ways not.] I come from a world of grinning faces and courteous people who'll stab you in the back as soon as you glance in the other direction. Maybe I believe what you're saying, maybe I don't.
[He wants to believe that he can push out someone's invading thoughts, but he's not so naive to think that everyone is the same. That everyone will approach so openly, so obviously. That his walls won't become soft and malleable by time and association alone.]
I would hope that there's enough respect between us all that we keep out of each other's heads. But we all come from different places, defined by different experiences. Someone, someday, might arrive here who doesn't care about respect, about trust. Maybe someone already has.
no subject
(Ironically, pushing back so hard reveals a bit of himself, anyway. That steel wall, one hundred feet high, is accompanied by the defiant screeching of bats, as if his willpower takes it own sort of personification.)
He doesn't hide his frown, even as he keeps up the barrier.]
No, I was asking if it was possible. I don't know any of you. I don't trust any of you, yet. [At least he's an honest man. He wants to keep distrusting, even though the closeness of bonds within the brood compel him otherwise.]
I'm a business man. [And much more than that. In some ways it's a lie of omission, in some ways not.] I come from a world of grinning faces and courteous people who'll stab you in the back as soon as you glance in the other direction. Maybe I believe what you're saying, maybe I don't.
[He wants to believe that he can push out someone's invading thoughts, but he's not so naive to think that everyone is the same. That everyone will approach so openly, so obviously. That his walls won't become soft and malleable by time and association alone.]
I would hope that there's enough respect between us all that we keep out of each other's heads. But we all come from different places, defined by different experiences. Someone, someday, might arrive here who doesn't care about respect, about trust. Maybe someone already has.