[ it's not an answer to his question, but unlike the doctor, kovacs isn't circling around in frustration, his face still stern as he observes not only the environment around him, at the product of what seems to have been another inevitable war as most of them are, but at the doctor himself. for the most part, kovacs isn't actually looking for a direct answer; sometimes he gets more out of body language than the words themselves — since most of the time, people are liars anyway — and sometimes it's easier to learn something with what's not said.
but what he does gather from the words is a confirmation of something he'd already assumed. of course, "the doctor" isn't his name, but kovacs never cared to ask what it really was, expecting that if it wasn't given in the introduction then it was never intended to be shared in the first place. the fact that it's chosen falls in line with the man the doctor has made himself out to be — both doctors.
for all their absurd antics, what they do has remained consistent — curiosity leading them to ask questions, their determined nature leading them to want to help. from this doctor wanting to help him in his investigations, to the other doctor pulling him from the tower and slinging his wound, there's the consistent intention of a good nature.
of course, with that, there's always the weight, one that both have been good at hiding through it all, especially this doctor, with all his spirited energy and reckless dive into entertainment, but the curtains come down now, bearing the backdrop of a war, the kind that's always impossible to wipe away. he knows because the ashes of his own war constantly shower on his shoulders — they rain down on him even now in the middle of a war that isn't his. ]
No. [ despite the word, it's spoken in agreement with what's said. he doesn't need to know what the choice is to understand the implications. ] It probably wasn't. But even when we decide who we are, there's always gonna come a time where we're not gonna follow through. Where it steers from the path and so we try to bury it in the dirt, keep it from tarnishing that perfect record.
[ the air smells like death. he knows the scent. he breathes it every day. ]
no subject
but what he does gather from the words is a confirmation of something he'd already assumed. of course, "the doctor" isn't his name, but kovacs never cared to ask what it really was, expecting that if it wasn't given in the introduction then it was never intended to be shared in the first place. the fact that it's chosen falls in line with the man the doctor has made himself out to be — both doctors.
for all their absurd antics, what they do has remained consistent — curiosity leading them to ask questions, their determined nature leading them to want to help. from this doctor wanting to help him in his investigations, to the other doctor pulling him from the tower and slinging his wound, there's the consistent intention of a good nature.
of course, with that, there's always the weight, one that both have been good at hiding through it all, especially this doctor, with all his spirited energy and reckless dive into entertainment, but the curtains come down now, bearing the backdrop of a war, the kind that's always impossible to wipe away. he knows because the ashes of his own war constantly shower on his shoulders — they rain down on him even now in the middle of a war that isn't his. ]
No. [ despite the word, it's spoken in agreement with what's said. he doesn't need to know what the choice is to understand the implications. ] It probably wasn't. But even when we decide who we are, there's always gonna come a time where we're not gonna follow through. Where it steers from the path and so we try to bury it in the dirt, keep it from tarnishing that perfect record.
[ the air smells like death. he knows the scent. he breathes it every day. ]
But you can't bury it. You shouldn't.