He wonders if Anders is like Maleficent, ostracised because of something inherent about him, something his world deems worthy of scorn. He can't imagine it with Maleficent, because she seems so sure of herself, so powerful. But she's probably singular in what she is, or...close to it? He's not actually sure of the details. Anders doesn't stand out to him the way Maleficent does, with her wings and her bearing.
"That's awful, man," he says. His voice is mild, but he means it. He doesn't blame Anders for that creep of anger. He'd be angry too. Who wouldn't be?
He looks back at the darkness in the skull's empty eyes.
"My dad always seemed to hate me for existing, but I'm just unlucky like that. I mean, I turned out fine and everything so I shouldn't complain, but things like that get to you, right?"
His mild tone never changes; he's too used to coming across like he doesn't care, like he's unaffected or lazy or whatever it is. Old habits die hard.
"I guess it's not surprising that different worlds lend themselves to wildly different experiences, but maybe the similarities matter here when we're all stuck with questions and not answers."
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"That's awful, man," he says. His voice is mild, but he means it. He doesn't blame Anders for that creep of anger. He'd be angry too. Who wouldn't be?
He looks back at the darkness in the skull's empty eyes.
"My dad always seemed to hate me for existing, but I'm just unlucky like that. I mean, I turned out fine and everything so I shouldn't complain, but things like that get to you, right?"
His mild tone never changes; he's too used to coming across like he doesn't care, like he's unaffected or lazy or whatever it is. Old habits die hard.
"I guess it's not surprising that different worlds lend themselves to wildly different experiences, but maybe the similarities matter here when we're all stuck with questions and not answers."