[ The clone swallows. The bite is dry and scratches his throat on the way down. He'd thought...No. He'd hoped the man was going for that knife block. Reaching for a weapon to fight him with, so that it could be a match between the two of them. Not because...Not because he has a deep desire to kill the man, just because...Because then he'd know what to do. He wouldn't have to take his own initiative. He'd just get to do what's clearly necessary to deal with the Vorkosigans. Follow their lead. As usual.
But a bowl. He thinks I'm his son. Of course he thinks I'm his son. What else would he think?
He looks too young...He looks wrong.
He got a bowl for me. The Butcher of Komarr. Doing something like that. Why? That was...nice. Well, it's obvious why, because I'm his son, but...
The clone swallows again. It somehow hurts just as much. ]
Uhm - thanks.
[ Hesitantly, he comes over and pours the cereal into the bowl. And he tries not to stare up into the face of his progenitor's father like it's some bizarre mystery. Small talk, small talk... ]
no subject
But a bowl. He thinks I'm his son. Of course he thinks I'm his son. What else would he think?
He looks too young...He looks wrong.
He got a bowl for me. The Butcher of Komarr. Doing something like that. Why? That was...nice. Well, it's obvious why, because I'm his son, but...
The clone swallows again. It somehow hurts just as much. ]
Uhm - thanks.
[ Hesitantly, he comes over and pours the cereal into the bowl. And he tries not to stare up into the face of his progenitor's father like it's some bizarre mystery. Small talk, small talk... ]
Did you have a good day?