[ He has been a tool since childhood, raised to be the perfect obedient killing machine - his mother's plans were not run to completion, but it had almost been. So he takes the sentiment without as much as a blink, grey gaze unfaltering and emotionless, letting the silence rebuild itself around the two of them.
The dead cannot speak, the dead cannot act. Whatever sins they have are frozen, or dropped on the backs of those they have burdened. The dead...
... well, at least they weren't by his hands. ]
A common sentiment, I find. We are not well liked.
[ His tone implies that he doesn't care. He does, but he has to keep up impressions. Duty above all else. ]
no subject
The dead cannot speak, the dead cannot act. Whatever sins they have are frozen, or dropped on the backs of those they have burdened. The dead...
... well, at least they weren't by his hands. ]
A common sentiment, I find. We are not well liked.
[ His tone implies that he doesn't care. He does, but he has to keep up impressions. Duty above all else. ]