@least-among-hamiltons continued from [x]
Charles didn’t know what to expect of this man of Flint’s, but as the words droned on he supposed it wasn’t at all surprising that he would turn out to be inherently similar. He spoke a great deal – and if his words were winds, they would surely fill sails. Unlike Flint, however, he lacked the ability to captivate, to push those sails into any particular direction – causing them to fall flat despite all the blustering.
He certainly had a lot to fucking say about nothing at all worth hearing, at any rate.
“You know,” Charles did not deign to uncross his arms, maintaining his unimpressed position propped against the doorframe and observing Hamilton from a distance, “There are a few men on this island that fancy themselves storytellers – men who inspire with their words, to rouse others to do things they might never think of.”
Straightening, he unfolded his arms and set his hands idly at his sides as he stepped over, coming to rest them against the back of a chair. “I’m going to recommend you leave the talking to them.” It was perhaps difficult to tell with the raspy quality of his voice that these words lacked any malice – but in truth, Charles felt this to be genuinely thoughtful advice as opposed to any direct insult – and perhaps in anticipation of the presumption he was directing an assault, he went so far as to elaborate himself, which was not something he extended often.
“You assume that your history makes you bigger than you are – all you just did was illustrate why no man here should trust you, though I think you were aiming for the opposite effect. Best then, to learn how to navigate before trying to lead, wouldn’t you agree?”
Ocean Archive 