I think there are only people - neither good, nor bad. Just with all too wide a variety of amibitions and goals. After all, the dictator thinks he's right and believes he's right and good. The priest does the same. Who is good, then, if we're made to decide what that is.

[ he shrugs a little, blinking over at koby who presses closer, whose cheek comes to rest briefly on his bare shoulder. it's nice, though - the closeness, the nearness, when his chest feels like he's lost at sea. and he's never lost. he almost looks disappointed when koby pulls away, but it's short-lived. instead, he sees the jar and he laughs, surprised, bright and loud and open. ]

Those things hide that?

[ he takes the jam jar, delighted, and pops open the top. he's not had something sweet like this in so long, so he dips a finger into the sticky sweet substance and licks it into his mouth, humming at how tangy and sharp and sweet it is. it's good - expensive and fresh and flavorful. he almost looks boyishly excited over it.

he doesn't even think when he scoops another dollop onto his finger and offers it out to koby. ]

Try this.