(You are not a murderer. The sentiment would make her laugh, were it said by anyone else. Instead, because it's Glacius, her lips purse and her eyes find the dent in the wall left when Ignis disappeared. )
It's not that easy. ( She knows he means well, but... anyone can be a murderer. Kate has yet to meet a person who couldn't be convinced to kill another for one reason or another. And more importantly than that— ) I was. ( Perhaps excuses can be made for certain cases, like Rage's influence on her before, but those words ring hollow when weighed against the memories of what she has done.
Memories and feelings that Rage dug into in order to make those things happen. )
...Reminded me how easy it was, being like that.
( Like Rosenberg might have been correct. There's a simplicity to ruthlessness, an ease to being too cold to care about other people. She wouldn't have to feel the knots in her stomach at trying to talk about this, she wouldn't need to worry about anything but what she wanted to attain, wouldn't need to balance it against impressions and friendship and love. )
Rage was. It was her hand, Kate. [He just has to keep reiterating that, hoping that it might get through. If it was himself, he knows it would take time... but the belief that people have in him have always helped. He has to try and do the same for her.]
And the key word there is was. You are not that person anymore. If you were, you would not be struggling with that now. You simply would not care... about your actions, about any of us. But you do, I know you do... please do not let the parasites make you lose sight of yourself.
Not everyone tortures someone when they're pissed. ( She gets it, or at least she would if she wasn't still holding onto the uneasy knowledge of how simple wearing that skin once more was. How can you hate something so much and yet not want to let it go once it's inside of you?
It doesn't make sense.
Her breath hisses loudly through her teeth as she inhales, hands curling and uncurling, eyes drawing back to her friend. Her best friend here. Her truest companion in battle, moreso even than Ignis, the one who's been with her since the very first moment in Hadriel, who has seen her through so much of what the gods have pulled in the name of food.
She lets the breath go and clicks her tongue against her teeth. )
I— I don't like knowing I can do that if they want me to.
( But what can she do? She can't turn off the years of training, the knowledge she gained in The Agency, and return to what she was before that. Even if she could... Well. Anyone can figure out how to kill.
It's not about the skills she has. It's about whatever part of her is so broken as to do that in the first place. )
I understand what that is like, trust me. [Glacius' tone is a little more gentle when he replies, though his words are still earnest; he seems heartened by the fact that she at least looked at him, and is breathing and trying to think through it all now.] But the fact of the matter is that these damn parasites can make any one of us do practically anything at any given moment. Their ability to influence our bodies and our minds is truly troubling, and they rarely use those powers for good... there is a reason I detest them so strongly, Kate. Because on top of all they do to us they also take even the best of us and warp them into something that they are not, and then leave them to shoulder the blame and live with that suffering. That is its own kind of torture.
[Glacius sighs, leaning back and lacing his fingers together.] I do not know how to absolve you of this. When I was bent to their terrible whims it took a damn long time, and the steadfast belief of those who cared for me throughout. I can offer you the latter, no questions asked. I... hope it helps. If there's anything more I can do...
( Oh, she knows how he feels about the gods all too well, and it's something she can't blame him for. Still. They'd all do terrible things to try and survive, she thinks. )
Thanks. ( From Glacius, she doesn't question the offer. There's no wondering of motives or anything else, because he's given her nothing but reasons to trust him. She'll keep it in mind, at least. For now? For now she wants to move on, to look beyond the things she's done and try to be useful. )
Feels like we're running out of time.
( Delight's death, this move... There's electricity in the air, a tension among everyone, she finds.
It's been a long time coming, but it's still going to be hard to deal with. After all this time, and all the things they've gone through, the thought of not being in the same city — no, the same universe — as Glacius is a strange one indeed. It's not like the distance between herself and her friends back on Earth. She can't just open her laptop and start chatting, or have Carl come pick her up.
Realistically, they may never see each other again. )
[Glacius hesitates, seeming like he wants to say more... but he has done all he can in this matter, has he not? He cannot absolve Kate of the guilt he feels, cannot magically mend her feelings even though he wishes he could; her good heart will struggle with this for some time. He can only support her steadfastly as she overcomes it, as he already has offered to do...
... Moreover her next remark completely blindsides him, and not just because it's something of a jump in topics. The alien's eyes widen, and then his brow knits and his nasal cap wrinkles as his face scrunches up, an outward expression over his inner conflict.] I... I know. I feel it too. We don't know what will happen once this hell breaks loose, but the best case scenario is likely that we find a way to be returned to our respective worlds. I miss my people—I never stopped missing them, not even for a moment—and I want the ones that I love to go free from this place. Free from all of the pain, suffering, and torture it entails, but...
[Glacius drops his head, coughs up something of a weak laugh, and then lowers himself towards Kate, his voice quiet.] I don't want to say goodbye...
( She's aware how sudden a change it is, but the memories of that day still ache and the natural desire is to stop poking the sore thing. Stop bringing it up. Move away from the past and into the future, like she always has. Maybe in a while she'll be able to explain it properly, be able to detach herself enough to not feel as though she's being cut open for examination.
Maybe in a while she'll be able to internalise Glacius' words enough that she can divorce herself from that part of her brain which whispers but that's who you are.
So, from one painful topic to the next, it seems. But isn't that always the way with Hadriel? Leaving is a strange beast at best — after years of wanting to go home, of knowing this isn't the right place for them, to be confronted with the very real possibility that they might just after all... All of them. Back to a million different universes, back to who they used to be.
She always imagined she'd be excited. And, true, she'll be glad to see her friends again, to be back with her people, but it comes at the cost of far more than she anticipated losing. )
I— ( For a moment, the words which come to mind die on her tongue, and her arms wrap around herself tightly. Going home means no longer having Glacius as a neighbour, no longer being part of this infuriating, often insane place, and having to give up every bit of progress she's made here as a person.
I don't either. But how lacking a sentiment is that for the concept of losing three years of your life? When she speaks, her voice knots thick with emotion. ) ...You better find my universe.
( You better not be lying about that potential to travel through universes, Glacius. She doesn't want to say goodbye either. )
[That gets Glacius to lift his head, his eyes widening as she calls back on an old promise. Perhaps it was foolish to make—sometimes, when people leave this place only to be dragged back, the memories of what has transpired hear are torn from them. But he has always been one to cling to hope, and now he feels familiarly adamant as he leans in and doubles down.] I will. I will do whatever it takes to do so. It may take me some time, but... this all means too much to me to just forget it all. It has to!
[That does not do much to ease the sorrow of their potential parting that now looms, but it at least gives him something to strive for. Hopefully, if the people that he's grown close to in this place know anything, it is how hard Glacius will work to not disappoint them.]
( That old cynical part of her, the one which would rather be called realistic, rolls its eyes, grimaces at the childish sounding request. Just because he said it doesn't mean it will happen, and all the rest of it. Why open oneself to all that potential pain and waiting?
Well. It's simple, isn't it? It's going to hurt either way. She may as well leave knowing she said everything she needed to say. )
Is there anything that helps?
( She still only knows so much about interdimensional travel, okay. Can he narrow the world down somehow, if she gives him something? Tells him enough?
[Glacius may be more experienced in this regard, but he still knows very little about how this particular sort of interdimensional travel is going to work. He frowns, clenching his hands as he thinks about this question.] I am unsure. The Door seems to function very differently from my people's fold cores; if we were simply using the latter, there would be no time displacement, no potential loss of memories. But when people are removed from this place, they do lose them, and regaining said memories should they be unfortunate enough to be brought back to Hadriel only seems to happen on occasion.
I wish I could say for sure what to do. [Glacius lets out a gusty sigh with this remark.] As wistful as it sounds, I just have to hope that what we have is strong enough that it may endure, in some inkling or another, across these worlds. I believe that it will. But... if there is anything you want to try, like gifting me a possession or a reminder of our relationship, then we should do that. Who knows if it will even stay with me when I pass that interdimensional threshold, but the more precautions we take to ensure we remember, the better... in my mind.
( Honestly, she does. Not out of sentimentality, at least she wouldn't admit to that if he asked, but because it makes sense that a physical possession would help. At least, maybe in the memory department.
But what? She doesn't have too many things in this city she'd really call personal, and—
Wait. She's got it. Just let her rummage for a second, through one of her drawers, and come back with two things — a set of handwritten notes, and one of the few books the library ever had that was useful and in a recognisable language. One about dancing. )
Here.
( Before him are the things she wrote about his biology, kept safe and secret ever since that day, and a faded looking book with a woman in a ballgown and a man in a suit, mid-turn. )
[Glacius cannot help but be curious to see what it is she gives him, and perhaps maybe even eager to have a keepsake despite not knowing how it might affect whatever happens to their memories. What he gets is yet another unexpected punch to the gut as he reads the notes written on those old papers; his cheekbones twitch, and he gives her what can only be read as a pained, struggling smile.]
Ah, yes. I... suppose you will not be needing these any more once your resident alien has departed, hm? And now you return them to me... I knew I picked the right person to trust with this information. [It would have been easy for her to hold on to them, after all... but he knows that she understands he would feel safer with the information about his species eradicated, now that its usefulness has run its course. Kate has always understood how he values its secrecy, how he uses it to protect his people.]
And this... [Now Glacius turns his attention to the book as he tucks the notes inside its cover for safekeeping. Once he is home, he can have Carlisle use his magic to incinerate the papers properly.] A reminder of the good times we have managed to create together in this place despite everything. Perhaps we should find a time to have... just one last dance, before this all draws to its conclusion.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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It's not that easy. ( She knows he means well, but... anyone can be a murderer. Kate has yet to meet a person who couldn't be convinced to kill another for one reason or another. And more importantly than that— ) I was. ( Perhaps excuses can be made for certain cases, like Rage's influence on her before, but those words ring hollow when weighed against the memories of what she has done.
Memories and feelings that Rage dug into in order to make those things happen. )
...Reminded me how easy it was, being like that.
( Like Rosenberg might have been correct. There's a simplicity to ruthlessness, an ease to being too cold to care about other people. She wouldn't have to feel the knots in her stomach at trying to talk about this, she wouldn't need to worry about anything but what she wanted to attain, wouldn't need to balance it against impressions and friendship and love. )
no subject
And the key word there is was. You are not that person anymore. If you were, you would not be struggling with that now. You simply would not care... about your actions, about any of us. But you do, I know you do... please do not let the parasites make you lose sight of yourself.
no subject
It doesn't make sense.
Her breath hisses loudly through her teeth as she inhales, hands curling and uncurling, eyes drawing back to her friend. Her best friend here. Her truest companion in battle, moreso even than Ignis, the one who's been with her since the very first moment in Hadriel, who has seen her through so much of what the gods have pulled in the name of food.
She lets the breath go and clicks her tongue against her teeth. )
I— I don't like knowing I can do that if they want me to.
( But what can she do? She can't turn off the years of training, the knowledge she gained in The Agency, and return to what she was before that. Even if she could... Well. Anyone can figure out how to kill.
It's not about the skills she has. It's about whatever part of her is so broken as to do that in the first place. )
no subject
[Glacius sighs, leaning back and lacing his fingers together.] I do not know how to absolve you of this. When I was bent to their terrible whims it took a damn long time, and the steadfast belief of those who cared for me throughout. I can offer you the latter, no questions asked. I... hope it helps. If there's anything more I can do...
no subject
Thanks. ( From Glacius, she doesn't question the offer. There's no wondering of motives or anything else, because he's given her nothing but reasons to trust him. She'll keep it in mind, at least. For now? For now she wants to move on, to look beyond the things she's done and try to be useful. )
Feels like we're running out of time.
( Delight's death, this move... There's electricity in the air, a tension among everyone, she finds.
It's been a long time coming, but it's still going to be hard to deal with. After all this time, and all the things they've gone through, the thought of not being in the same city — no, the same universe — as Glacius is a strange one indeed. It's not like the distance between herself and her friends back on Earth. She can't just open her laptop and start chatting, or have Carl come pick her up.
Realistically, they may never see each other again. )
no subject
... Moreover her next remark completely blindsides him, and not just because it's something of a jump in topics. The alien's eyes widen, and then his brow knits and his nasal cap wrinkles as his face scrunches up, an outward expression over his inner conflict.] I... I know. I feel it too. We don't know what will happen once this hell breaks loose, but the best case scenario is likely that we find a way to be returned to our respective worlds. I miss my people—I never stopped missing them, not even for a moment—and I want the ones that I love to go free from this place. Free from all of the pain, suffering, and torture it entails, but...
[Glacius drops his head, coughs up something of a weak laugh, and then lowers himself towards Kate, his voice quiet.] I don't want to say goodbye...
he better come fite with her in the combat log she has Things to say :>
Maybe in a while she'll be able to internalise Glacius' words enough that she can divorce herself from that part of her brain which whispers but that's who you are.
So, from one painful topic to the next, it seems. But isn't that always the way with Hadriel? Leaving is a strange beast at best — after years of wanting to go home, of knowing this isn't the right place for them, to be confronted with the very real possibility that they might just after all... All of them. Back to a million different universes, back to who they used to be.
She always imagined she'd be excited. And, true, she'll be glad to see her friends again, to be back with her people, but it comes at the cost of far more than she anticipated losing. )
I— ( For a moment, the words which come to mind die on her tongue, and her arms wrap around herself tightly. Going home means no longer having Glacius as a neighbour, no longer being part of this infuriating, often insane place, and having to give up every bit of progress she's made here as a person.
I don't either. But how lacking a sentiment is that for the concept of losing three years of your life? When she speaks, her voice knots thick with emotion. ) ...You better find my universe.
( You better not be lying about that potential to travel through universes, Glacius. She doesn't want to say goodbye either. )
absolutely!
[That does not do much to ease the sorrow of their potential parting that now looms, but it at least gives him something to strive for. Hopefully, if the people that he's grown close to in this place know anything, it is how hard Glacius will work to not disappoint them.]
no subject
Well. It's simple, isn't it? It's going to hurt either way. She may as well leave knowing she said everything she needed to say. )
Is there anything that helps?
( She still only knows so much about interdimensional travel, okay. Can he narrow the world down somehow, if she gives him something? Tells him enough?
Who the heck knows. )
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I wish I could say for sure what to do. [Glacius lets out a gusty sigh with this remark.] As wistful as it sounds, I just have to hope that what we have is strong enough that it may endure, in some inkling or another, across these worlds. I believe that it will. But... if there is anything you want to try, like gifting me a possession or a reminder of our relationship, then we should do that. Who knows if it will even stay with me when I pass that interdimensional threshold, but the more precautions we take to ensure we remember, the better... in my mind.
no subject
But what? She doesn't have too many things in this city she'd really call personal, and—
Wait. She's got it. Just let her rummage for a second, through one of her drawers, and come back with two things — a set of handwritten notes, and one of the few books the library ever had that was useful and in a recognisable language. One about dancing. )
Here.
( Before him are the things she wrote about his biology, kept safe and secret ever since that day, and a faded looking book with a woman in a ballgown and a man in a suit, mid-turn. )
no subject
Ah, yes. I... suppose you will not be needing these any more once your resident alien has departed, hm? And now you return them to me... I knew I picked the right person to trust with this information. [It would have been easy for her to hold on to them, after all... but he knows that she understands he would feel safer with the information about his species eradicated, now that its usefulness has run its course. Kate has always understood how he values its secrecy, how he uses it to protect his people.]
And this... [Now Glacius turns his attention to the book as he tucks the notes inside its cover for safekeeping. Once he is home, he can have Carlisle use his magic to incinerate the papers properly.] A reminder of the good times we have managed to create together in this place despite everything. Perhaps we should find a time to have... just one last dance, before this all draws to its conclusion.