twisted sister

Cole grinned. "I'm not croaking just yet, my friend. You just offed my Driver! Be a shame if I didn't stick it out so long as to make a difference."

Rex had gone along with it, plenty easy. "Sure thing, Cole. Maybe you'll even be around to tell your stories to my grandkids!"

The elixir of life, the glimmering panacea, hadn't been what Rex had been after, in Elysium. Certainly, Mythra and Pyra hadn't wanted that, either. It's just a convenient side effect, that the parenthetical shackles seem to lighten, as the new world's calyx plugs into place. And then the new one, after that. Really harshly settled, is it. Really stuck on its hinges, ready to fall right out.

"Rex," Minoth exhorts him, "you...you really do remind me of a certain someone, now." And it's not good.

But Rex snorts. "I don't half look like 'im. He wasn't dealing with just any kid. He wasn't even dealing with his own kid, really."

"And you?"

"You know that face. But you don't know that girl."

"She can't blow anything up, is that it?"

"She can't know. And don't you go makin' any coy remarks, either."

Stories. All he's good for is stories.

"I hate this," Minoth spits with a foul hang to the set of his jaw.

"You should be dead."

"Well, aren't you just pleasant?"

Rex gives an evil, empty smile crammed full of teeth. "And I get just a little bit more rotten every day."

Aw, diddums to you, too, huh?

"It'd be a shame," is all he tells Glimmer. "No matter who, or what you are - it'd be a shame if you didn't stick it out just a little bit longer, just so you can say you made a difference."

Glimmer gives him that proud-stallion look. "I don't need to make a difference. I'm living for me."

She has that right, doesn't she? She has that blessed prerogative.

"Yes. That's right." He kicks a rock back over the cliff behind them, and doesn't wait for it to clatter into dust. "You're living. Better make it count."