[It seems like this isn't getting through to Owain at all. Sometime during Weiss's ... would you call this a peptalk? Well, sometime during Weiss's attempt at sort of cheering Owain up, Owain has slumped back against a nearby wall and doubled over, staring pointlessly at the ground. He's so curled in on himself that he doesn't even notice Weiss is holding her hand out to him, because his only friend is a cat that doesn't even exist yet and there's no point pretending otherwise. SNIFFLE]
No, it's okay. Like I said, I get it. I'm just a goofy doofus with the magical brain of a talented child. You don't need to pretend like you want to be my friend. It's okay. Just leave me here to die.
[he sighs... and then he sighs again. he sighs a third time, loud enough to throw his head back for dramatic effect, but then his eyes catch the gleam of Weiss's sword in the light. He pauses in his melodrama, clears his throat, then stretches his back straight.]
N... no! No, you're right! There's nothing wrong with being nervous, right?! Even if I live my life as a broken martyr, shouldering the responsibility of everyone thinking I'm a loser, that just makes me more and more like the broken, tragic hero that I want to be, right?! You're right! There's nothing wrong with me, ever!
[RAUGH. ENERGY. RAHH. HE GRABS WEISS'S HAND AND SHAKES IT AS HARD AS HE CAN. But seriously, he wants to see that sword. He figures he should at least say "thank you" before he asks about it, though, because Weiss really didn't have to go out of her way to say all that. Especially after, you know. He embarrassed her and behaved like an idiot for half an hour.]
... Thank sword, Weiss.
[... wait ugh HE MEANT THANK YOU HE MEANT THANK YOU]
no subject
No, it's okay. Like I said, I get it. I'm just a goofy doofus with the magical brain of a talented child. You don't need to pretend like you want to be my friend. It's okay. Just leave me here to die.
[he sighs... and then he sighs again. he sighs a third time, loud enough to throw his head back for dramatic effect, but then his eyes catch the gleam of Weiss's sword in the light. He pauses in his melodrama, clears his throat, then stretches his back straight.]
N... no! No, you're right! There's nothing wrong with being nervous, right?! Even if I live my life as a broken martyr, shouldering the responsibility of everyone thinking I'm a loser, that just makes me more and more like the broken, tragic hero that I want to be, right?! You're right! There's nothing wrong with me, ever!
[RAUGH. ENERGY. RAHH. HE GRABS WEISS'S HAND AND SHAKES IT AS HARD AS HE CAN. But seriously, he wants to see that sword. He figures he should at least say "thank you" before he asks about it, though, because Weiss really didn't have to go out of her way to say all that. Especially after, you know. He embarrassed her and behaved like an idiot for half an hour.]
... Thank sword, Weiss.
[... wait ugh HE MEANT THANK YOU HE MEANT THANK YOU]