cakePeople spoke of Bane's mother to him as if he would be affected by it. He understood why, from a scientist's point of view; most peoples' mothers held great sway over them, most put their parents on a pedestal, even if they didn't realise it. These were the people who birthed you, nursed you and taught you everything you knew. Even for those who, like Bane, had been separated from a parent at a young age, still considered them of great importance in their lives. Bane was a man who stood aside from most others; he lacked what the general population held dear, and replaced his dispassion with faith and a thirst for knowledge. These were things that would have been a waste of time to discuss with the blind lady, an old friend of his parents'. Perhaps it would be better to have people like her believe that it meant something to him. He knew he was different; his own affirmation was all he needed.
cake"Perhaps she is." He said this quietly, for a moment allowing himself to ponder her words. From what he knew of his mother, from what he had heard from the few he had spoken to who knew her, Iskata Sadira was likely wrong.
cakeShe thanked him and he tilted his head slightly, waiting for an explanation. Nothing came, so he spoke. "No need." And there wasn't: Bane believed what believed, and spoke of it because he believed, not because he was trying to convert others. It wasn't just belief, it was something set so strongly in concrete in his mind that whoever disagreed simply was denying their destiny, a futile effort. This was fine with him. His path was what mattered, not theirs. They had stopped now, and it was pitch black out. His eyes glowed in the darkness as he looked down at her, the smell of Phoenix Valley thick in the air. "It's dark, Miss Sadira. Shall I leave you to get some sleep? I assume you can get back on your own?"
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