That's the biggest load of bullshit, tough guy. And real cute how you don't mention any of this while I'm telling you about the crap my government's done. You're no different that than the DUPs. How many innocent people have you thrown away? Turned into monsters?
Buddy doesn't talk. Oh he talked to buddy for the first few weeks but soon it go to be old hat. He could retreat into his own mind, he could learn. He waited for the urge to go away. The urge to talk, to confess his hurts.
It never did.
Not completely. Garrett's visits were a treat. He could be human, at least, human the way he'd thought it had been.
He confessed that, terrifying, sore and in pain. Desperate for the sound of a human voice.
"But think of how much peaceful it is. How much, you're learning about yourself."
"Isolation's a sign of weakness son, but it's made by your dependence on others. If you recognize that attachments are going to get you hurt. You can let go easier."
And he'd left Grant Ward. With Buddy, who would whine and bark, trying to suppress the urge to ask him questions. To talk aloud to him. Doing so would have startled game.
He waited patiently, patiently for it to go away.
No more sitting forward. No more anything. Sitting back Ward undergoes a bit of a startling...change. He's been broken and hurt and taken into jail, outed, mutated, and he hasn't had a chance to adapt.
He's fine. He's a survivor. So much for kindness. He's staring, his voice flat. Emotionless. Literally a robot.]
At least one. Micheal Petersen. His codename was deathlok. We gave him a super soldier serum that was a lot like mine and cybernetic enhancements.
The others were all volunteers. At least to the best of my knowledge.
[This is where Garrett would follow through with a heil hydra, but thinking about the man who clearly tried to warn him..clearly was the only person he cared...
[Not too long ago she would have tracked him down immediately and turned him to ash. Maybe string up him for show, if so many people hated him. It's a good thing Delsin inspired her to be better than that, and it's a good thing Delsin would probably be kinder than her. It's the only thing stopping her from full out rage.]
You were right to be freaked. To be scared. I swear, I hear about you fucking around with anyone with powers here, I'll fry you.
...There's an "Anti Grant Ward" club. You can seek it out to hear more about how terrible I am.
[He'll turn the feed off and not respond again. setting the device carefully aside he has to walk out. Do something.
He only gets about half a block before he picks out a dumpster and starts hammering it, fists punched into metal, waiting for just the right moment to break it, praying for blood.
He gets it when he punches through it- pretending it was that smug bitch's face - just in time for pain to lance down his shoulder and along his back. Almost like his skin is ripping itself apart.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Talk about irony, huh? No wonder you were so freaked out.
Now, the question is... wouldn't kill them, or couldn't?
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[And Garrett shakes his head in disgust. Toss the dice and let's go]
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How's it feel, bein' on the other side? Real fun, isn't it?
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Chuckling. In that way he had.
How could be stupid enough to think that someone like this could care?]
I don't feel anything.
[This is a lie. It's pretty obviously a lie.]
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Buddy doesn't talk. Oh he talked to buddy for the first few weeks but soon it go to be old hat. He could retreat into his own mind, he could learn. He waited for the urge to go away. The urge to talk, to confess his hurts.
It never did.
Not completely. Garrett's visits were a treat. He could be human, at least, human the way he'd thought it had been.
He confessed that, terrifying, sore and in pain. Desperate for the sound of a human voice.
"But think of how much peaceful it is. How much, you're learning about yourself."
"Isolation's a sign of weakness son, but it's made by your dependence on others. If you recognize that attachments are going to get you hurt. You can let go easier."
And he'd left Grant Ward. With Buddy, who would whine and bark, trying to suppress the urge to ask him questions. To talk aloud to him. Doing so would have startled game.
He waited patiently, patiently for it to go away.
No more sitting forward. No more anything. Sitting back Ward undergoes a bit of a startling...change. He's been broken and hurt and taken into jail, outed, mutated, and he hasn't had a chance to adapt.
He's fine. He's a survivor. So much for kindness. He's staring, his voice flat. Emotionless. Literally a robot.]
At least one. Micheal Petersen. His codename was deathlok. We gave him a super soldier serum that was a lot like mine and cybernetic enhancements.
The others were all volunteers. At least to the best of my knowledge.
[This is where Garrett would follow through with a heil hydra, but thinking about the man who clearly tried to warn him..clearly was the only person he cared...
He ran a hand over his face.]
Any other questions?
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You were right to be freaked. To be scared. I swear, I hear about you fucking around with anyone with powers here, I'll fry you.
no subject
...There's an "Anti Grant Ward" club. You can seek it out to hear more about how terrible I am.
[He'll turn the feed off and not respond again. setting the device carefully aside he has to walk out. Do something.
He only gets about half a block before he picks out a dumpster and starts hammering it, fists punched into metal, waiting for just the right moment to break it, praying for blood.
He gets it when he punches through it- pretending it was that smug bitch's face - just in time for pain to lance down his shoulder and along his back. Almost like his skin is ripping itself apart.]