[FOX]
“If you know what I’m gonna say, why say it?”
It’s a song and dance routine well practiced by now, so much so both parties had already mastered their answers. That only means they’ve found new ways not to answer.
Any moment of respite or silence away from the rest of the team, it’d soon be time play that tune again.
“Dad, y'just said it: it’s done.” He kicks the cargo space of his Arwing shut when he rises to look up at him. Fox isn’t just gonna play along this time, he’s going to bend the rules.
“So instead, please– how about you go ahead and just tell me what you’d prefer me to say.”
“It begs repeating. Yet here we are--” He bit back his remark, swallowed the bile. Enough of that, he knew better. He knew better than to chew at that bit more than was needed, but the urge to draw the argument out lingered like a bad smell. Neither wanted to fight, neither of them wanted to do a great many things that would urge them into speaking at length about where this fracas would take them in the end.
James had known it since he returned to Corneria. Fox knew it, and there was the unspoken heaviness of what Venom entailed for them all--an end.
THE end. He sighed.
“What i’d prefer? I’d prefer if y’didn’t play stupid, and roll this off your back like it’s nothing. You’re callin’ the shots, but that doesn’t mean you have to court death
to prove a POINT, fox.”
