Waver's grip on him as he's trying to reel himself in closer is uncomfortable, to say the least, but Ozymandias grits his teeth and endures it without complaint. Before he can even suggest that Waver rid him of the cloak that's weighing him down, Waver is already in the process of clawing himself free of it. Good, Ozymandias thinks. It's a sensible thing to do.
What's less sensible is Waver giving in to compassion and wanting to save the other Monsters that find themselves still trapped within the booth. Ozymandias tries to dig his heels in to prevent being moved in that direction, but with Waver's turnskin strength in the moment, he can really only at most is maintaining balance as they come to a stop once more. Ozymandias looks over his shoulder at the poor creatures. Even in their own frenzied states of panic, they are sad to bear witness to; not a single one is whole and the malnourishment and mistreatment is marked all along their bodies. But there is little that Waver and Ozymandias can do for them. Looking down at Waver, he doesn't know if he's simply forgotten that or never knew it to begin with. It seems in some ways, the fanciful and romantic notions of childhood have not fully left him.
With the relative safety of the booth and proximity to the monsters diverting most of the crowd, Ozymandias separates himself some from Waver, turning his chin up to look at him instead of the trapped and restrained monsters. Leaning a little closer, Ozymandias scrutinizes Waver's face. Something in Ozymandias' own expression softens after a moment.
"Leave them," he concludes, speaking loud enough to be heard. His voice is not cold, but it is calm. He releases Waver's chin and straightens back up. How unfortunate is it that this boy continues to find himself trapped amid such ugliness that he is simply not meant to be part of? Were there a different sort of look in his eyes, Ozymandias might have pushed him to discover his own means of summoning up courage to truly release them from their suffering. But he hasn't the stomach for it and likely never will; Ozymandias neither faults nor pities him for it. It simply is not who he is meant to be.
But even so, Ozymandaias doesn't offer him false hope with a pretty promise that the Resistance will care for those restrained and trapped at this booth. There is no guarantee of that and looking out over the chaos in the pathways of the bazaar, it seems entirely unlikely. They will be more than likely forgotten by everyone until the chaos clears. And then their lives will be as they've ever been.
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What's less sensible is Waver giving in to compassion and wanting to save the other Monsters that find themselves still trapped within the booth. Ozymandias tries to dig his heels in to prevent being moved in that direction, but with Waver's turnskin strength in the moment, he can really only at most is maintaining balance as they come to a stop once more. Ozymandias looks over his shoulder at the poor creatures. Even in their own frenzied states of panic, they are sad to bear witness to; not a single one is whole and the malnourishment and mistreatment is marked all along their bodies. But there is little that Waver and Ozymandias can do for them. Looking down at Waver, he doesn't know if he's simply forgotten that or never knew it to begin with. It seems in some ways, the fanciful and romantic notions of childhood have not fully left him.
With the relative safety of the booth and proximity to the monsters diverting most of the crowd, Ozymandias separates himself some from Waver, turning his chin up to look at him instead of the trapped and restrained monsters. Leaning a little closer, Ozymandias scrutinizes Waver's face. Something in Ozymandias' own expression softens after a moment.
"Leave them," he concludes, speaking loud enough to be heard. His voice is not cold, but it is calm. He releases Waver's chin and straightens back up. How unfortunate is it that this boy continues to find himself trapped amid such ugliness that he is simply not meant to be part of? Were there a different sort of look in his eyes, Ozymandias might have pushed him to discover his own means of summoning up courage to truly release them from their suffering. But he hasn't the stomach for it and likely never will; Ozymandias neither faults nor pities him for it. It simply is not who he is meant to be.
But even so, Ozymandaias doesn't offer him false hope with a pretty promise that the Resistance will care for those restrained and trapped at this booth. There is no guarantee of that and looking out over the chaos in the pathways of the bazaar, it seems entirely unlikely. They will be more than likely forgotten by everyone until the chaos clears. And then their lives will be as they've ever been.
He begins pulling Waver away.
"We need to go!"