[ Noatak turned around. Leaning against the sink counter with pink stained hands from blood mixed water running in rivulets down his hands. Knuckles were white with the tight, frustrated grip he held to the sink edge, but he kept the rest of his demeanour in check. ]

Don't play coy with me after you've spent your entire life fabricating a lie to cover up our checkered past. Your "best possible presentation" would never acknowledge the monster that fathered us; you wear a mask the same as I.