[ what did Nureyev say to him that first time they met? back when he was playing at being someone else entirely, with a high sweet voice and a cruel tongue. some kind of comparison between a person's house and a person's mind, that you can tell a lot about one from the other; and then that Juno had implied everyone has a monster stalking their halls, when he'd really just been spouting off the usual snappy pessimistic bullshit he always has running on director's commentary. but — well, he has to admit. if it's true, then Juno already knows that the monster in the halls of his home is himself.
so he feels strange, on-edge and almost guilty, about wandering through a place like this. it's not like any home he's ever been in, and it's not a feeling he's ever felt, this heady mix of warmth and tranquillity in the atmosphere like an incense, cloying in his senses. he's sure that if he touches anything, it will rot under his hand, love peeling away from the walls in decay. he doesn't touch. he follows the vague pull towards what seems like the center, which must be whoever owns the dream he's wandered into. it's an easy conclusion to reach, even with his limited time in the Nest so far and mostly hazy recollections of other people's sleeping minds; this couldn't possibly belong to him.
he finds Rogue down below and the feeling there is much more familiar. home sweet home. ]
(Nice place you've got here.) [ he doesn't bother being delicate about it. he's in her head. they're miles past the point of delicacy already and there's no way to soften the blow, so he won't waste either of their time. ] (It's too bad about the company.)
[ the joke might be lost without the impressions shared in a hivemind, but with that connection, it's clearer that he's being funny — he means himself. he's the bad company, get it? after all, he was making himself into a shrapnel bomb when he and Rogue met, and he's sure she doesn't want him in her head any more than he wants to be here. ]
MIND.
so he feels strange, on-edge and almost guilty, about wandering through a place like this. it's not like any home he's ever been in, and it's not a feeling he's ever felt, this heady mix of warmth and tranquillity in the atmosphere like an incense, cloying in his senses. he's sure that if he touches anything, it will rot under his hand, love peeling away from the walls in decay. he doesn't touch. he follows the vague pull towards what seems like the center, which must be whoever owns the dream he's wandered into. it's an easy conclusion to reach, even with his limited time in the Nest so far and mostly hazy recollections of other people's sleeping minds; this couldn't possibly belong to him.
he finds Rogue down below and the feeling there is much more familiar. home sweet home. ]
( Nice place you've got here. ) [ he doesn't bother being delicate about it. he's in her head. they're miles past the point of delicacy already and there's no way to soften the blow, so he won't waste either of their time. ] ( It's too bad about the company. )
[ the joke might be lost without the impressions shared in a hivemind, but with that connection, it's clearer that he's being funny — he means himself. he's the bad company, get it? after all, he was making himself into a shrapnel bomb when he and Rogue met, and he's sure she doesn't want him in her head any more than he wants to be here. ]