[Simon is the type to make flippant jokes at the worst times, in hostile and decidedly inappropriate circumstances, though his track record for appreciating the same impulse in others is spotty. Any number of responses rise to his lips, playing along--I hope you can get your money back, or nice to know you were thinking of me, or even a simple thanks would suffice and possibly defuse, if only just a little.
He can't bring himself to joke back. It would feel like insult added to injury, like a somehow gratuitous sacrifice of dignity on top of the one he's just convinced himself was necessary, even if he can't possibly articulate how or why it would be. Let it be done with.]
Good talk.
[His tone is flat, entirely defeated. He would push past Kostos to the door, if he had a very little less self-awareness. As it is, he merely jerks his head at it in a please continue leaving sort of gesture.]
no subject
He can't bring himself to joke back. It would feel like insult added to injury, like a somehow gratuitous sacrifice of dignity on top of the one he's just convinced himself was necessary, even if he can't possibly articulate how or why it would be. Let it be done with.]
Good talk.
[His tone is flat, entirely defeated. He would push past Kostos to the door, if he had a very little less self-awareness. As it is, he merely jerks his head at it in a please continue leaving sort of gesture.]