It's hardly my fault that every time I try and create an argument, you counter it with new information I couldn't possibly have fucking known! How can I help but make presumptions when you don't tell me anything except to prove me wrong?!

His hands are whip-fast and hard-edged in his fury, almost too much for Solus to follow in his learning state. Isis is still watching Tyler, but her little form displays open concern.

You have these billions of years of knowledge and you use it exclusively to fuck with people! You don't tell people how to use your gifts, you don't tell anyone here about yourself so you can use it to lord over them, you don't even consider doing anything on any terms less than your own regardless of the impact it has on other people! You curate everything you do so carefully, just to make sure that nobody thinks anything could ever be your fault, even when your action leads directly to people's deaths!

If I had ever considered that you might be so close to being a - oh, this isn't a sign Tyler's ever used, nor put in his dictionary, a L shape swept up into a half-closed fist at his forehead - that you actually fucking set off my PTSD do you think I ever would have accepted your offer to play nice and act civil?!