WHERE HE'S USED TO LYNEY'S USUAL TALKATIVE APPROACH, at least from the small encounters and observation he's had with the magician alongside his family, the preference to listen to him is a strange thing indeed. not that he was intending to complain of it, more so a simple acknowledgement that the other must be taking the entirety of their predicament on a more earnest level, absorbing what information the warden can offer fully than merely brushing it off. whether or not the other took anything he says into consideration was hardly within wriothesley's control, especially after their little game of mental chess beneath the waves of fontaine, though he's still a little relieved it isn't entirely off the table. and while they weren't exactly allies, it wasn't as if they were truly enemies, either, not wishing to guide the other into serious harm.
one thing was for certain, however: they both could agree that none of this felt coincidental in the slightest. ❝ I agree. No matter the approach anyone takes, it's far too intentional to be some systematic hiccup, ❞ he responds, one leg now loosely crossing over the other as he leans back in his chair. regardless of it all, the entirety of it was still an unsettling aspect to sit through helplessly. in the end, they were akin to lions in some exhibit, fed scraps as seen fit and kept to believe that since they were given things to do, it was tantamount to true freedom.
in some ways, to him, it was like the meropide of old—
but after everything he's witnessed upon this island's proximity, anything was possible at the fingertips of their captors when they so willed it. now, whether that was beneficial to the inhabitants or otherwise was a whole other topic that would only serve to bring about strong opinions depending who you asked. ❝ It wouldn't be the first time they've put on a performance for us. If we were back in Fontaine, they'd probably win some kind of award. ❞ something that lyney was likely to see soon enough whenever those lurking stars began another one of their little experiments on the island.
❝ Losing my mind, huh? You never know. Maybe I've already lost it. Who's to say I'm not hallucinating people from home to get through the days now, ❞ he starts, almost as if in earnest were it not the entirely wry way he says it. ❝ ... Hah. Just kidding. I'd like to think I still have my head on my shoulders proper. But I guess you just have to remember I've done some actual hard time for a little more than half my life. So this? It's just another kind of prison, one where you need to find the right kind of distraction without letting yourself get too comfortable. ❞
though that leaves the question of how the fatui might come to handle it all, a tilt of his head as he quirks a brow. ❝ Got any plans yourself? You might've played the role of 'locked up,' but I wouldn't count that as substantial experience. ❞
