"There wasn't anything to talk out!" he says, indignation finally snapping him back to himself where the Psiioniic's shove hadn't. "We aren't going to suddenly be moirails just because you think we should, Kurloz. That isn't how it works."

He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, mussing it more than it already was, and took a moment to breathe.

"I'm sorry. You're only trying to help, I know. And we did talk, it just didn't go in the direction you thought it should. This -- if our relationship does swing more toward black, it might not be a bad thing."

He looks sideways at the Psiioniic as though asking for confirmation, or at the very least to search for a reaction. They've always bickered, haven't they, always pointed out each others' failings and stupid decisions? It might work.