[To Asch, it is a *very* valid point to bring up. Maybe lords do need their attendants, but couldn't his father have at least tried to support him? Tried to approve in some way? Then again, he was made to die, wasn't he? So there wouldn't have been much of a point to it. Father was always so busy--too busy, in fact. As if he made himself more busy than necessary for the very purpose of pretending his son didn't even exist. Asch never received any praise in the few moments they ever spent together, but only stern reminders of duty, obligation, responsibility. He had always pushed on to reach that impossibly high bar, but Father never once made anything of it.]
Father wouldn't acknowledge me. You wanted to kill me. Van wanted to use me. That would have been fine if he wasn't going to fill the world with replicas.
[It didn't matter that he knew Van was the one who kidnapped him in the first place. Nor did it matter that Van had created his replica, the same one who would be accepted in his place. If Van's ideas didn't include replicating everyone, he would have changed the world with him. It was not only a purpose, but a truly noble one.
Asch had been groomed for a greater purpose, yet was meant to die as a nothing. He had fought so hard to give himself a meaning of even the slightest sort. If he had died, he wouldn't have to think about whether or not he was good enough. But he's not dead--no, he's alive in this stupid city facing someone who discarded him and supported the replica's purpose.]
And what about confidence!? How would *you* know what it was like having to deal with that?
no subject
[To Asch, it is a *very* valid point to bring up. Maybe lords do need their attendants, but couldn't his father have at least tried to support him? Tried to approve in some way? Then again, he was made to die, wasn't he? So there wouldn't have been much of a point to it. Father was always so busy--too busy, in fact. As if he made himself more busy than necessary for the very purpose of pretending his son didn't even exist. Asch never received any praise in the few moments they ever spent together, but only stern reminders of duty, obligation, responsibility. He had always pushed on to reach that impossibly high bar, but Father never once made anything of it.]
Father wouldn't acknowledge me. You wanted to kill me. Van wanted to use me. That would have been fine if he wasn't going to fill the world with replicas.
[It didn't matter that he knew Van was the one who kidnapped him in the first place. Nor did it matter that Van had created his replica, the same one who would be accepted in his place. If Van's ideas didn't include replicating everyone, he would have changed the world with him. It was not only a purpose, but a truly noble one.
Asch had been groomed for a greater purpose, yet was meant to die as a nothing. He had fought so hard to give himself a meaning of even the slightest sort. If he had died, he wouldn't have to think about whether or not he was good enough. But he's not dead--no, he's alive in this stupid city facing someone who discarded him and supported the replica's purpose.]
And what about confidence!? How would *you* know what it was like having to deal with that?