"I'm fine," he grumbles at that second offer. "Just show me how you do it."
It certainly isn't a lack of coordination that's causing the hangups here - Rosinante is good and careful with his hands, as demonstrated not just with his aim but also at how carefully he does his makeup, how delicately he paints Mary's fingernails. But especially for those latter two, mistakes are easy enough to correct when his hand slips, and if he drops a brush or a bottle of nail polish, oh well.
But these scissors, they're too small for his hands and they're not his friends. He's just as prone to cutting himself by mistake as he is to toppling over. Dropping a paper boat and accidentally falling on it in the process of trying to pick it up has happened more than once tonight. And he doesn't have the calm he needs - he's frustrated, he's grieving, and he's angry at all of this happening again. What's worse, drowning, or brutal evisceration? It sounds like an obvious choice but there can't be anything pleasant about being smashed into the rocks by something twenty times your strength and size, and churned to bone by the silt-laden water. These people did not go peacefully and while that's in no way his own fault and he knows it, his reaction is always to think of how he could have done better to save them.
It's not boding well for the boats he's struggling to make in the meantime.
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It certainly isn't a lack of coordination that's causing the hangups here - Rosinante is good and careful with his hands, as demonstrated not just with his aim but also at how carefully he does his makeup, how delicately he paints Mary's fingernails. But especially for those latter two, mistakes are easy enough to correct when his hand slips, and if he drops a brush or a bottle of nail polish, oh well.
But these scissors, they're too small for his hands and they're not his friends. He's just as prone to cutting himself by mistake as he is to toppling over. Dropping a paper boat and accidentally falling on it in the process of trying to pick it up has happened more than once tonight. And he doesn't have the calm he needs - he's frustrated, he's grieving, and he's angry at all of this happening again. What's worse, drowning, or brutal evisceration? It sounds like an obvious choice but there can't be anything pleasant about being smashed into the rocks by something twenty times your strength and size, and churned to bone by the silt-laden water. These people did not go peacefully and while that's in no way his own fault and he knows it, his reaction is always to think of how he could have done better to save them.
It's not boding well for the boats he's struggling to make in the meantime.