[About ten seconds after the video has ended, and fewer still after Hunter turns to address him, it occurs to Thancred that he hasn't breathed in — that he can't remember the last time he drew breath, actually.
There are memories he's seen that have been nostalgic and ones that have been painful. There are ones that stirred up feelings of shame, of pride, of longing, of relief. He doesn't know why he ever thought that this one might be exempt. Why would he ever think that this one was dead and buried.
And now someone has seen it. And he'd thought his Bicker profile was bad enough.
Hell truly isn't pulling any punches this week, is it.]
[He's quiet a long time — or maybe it just seems long, to his own reckoning. The reassurance feels eerily like something Alphinaud would say; acknowledging something ugly while still seeking to smooth over it, offering condolences for things that warrant little more than scorn.
Maybe that's why his tongue loosens, in the end. Idle thoughts of Alphinaud.]
People died because of that. Comrades of mine. They didn't stand a chance.
[It had always seemed like such a cosmic joke, that they'd died and he'd endured to live with it. Well, maybe now it's finally caught up with him.]
Not exactly one of my prouder moments. But I suppose I should've expected it sooner or later, given this place.
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There are memories he's seen that have been nostalgic and ones that have been painful. There are ones that stirred up feelings of shame, of pride, of longing, of relief. He doesn't know why he ever thought that this one might be exempt. Why would he ever think that this one was dead and buried.
And now someone has seen it. And he'd thought his Bicker profile was bad enough.
Hell truly isn't pulling any punches this week, is it.]
...And if I was?
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[He wrings his hands, looking back at the blank screen with a small huff.]
I'm, uh, I'm sorry. That I saw that. These... contraptions... like to rub the worst part of our lives in our faces.
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Maybe that's why his tongue loosens, in the end. Idle thoughts of Alphinaud.]
People died because of that. Comrades of mine. They didn't stand a chance.
[It had always seemed like such a cosmic joke, that they'd died and he'd endured to live with it. Well, maybe now it's finally caught up with him.]
Not exactly one of my prouder moments. But I suppose I should've expected it sooner or later, given this place.
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[Tiredly. He sighs and glances back at him, concerned.]
... Did you manage to get rid of whatever took over your body, at least?