[ The place is a true cage, and she'd understand that probably better than most. The way the walls seem to cling at you and no amount, no amount of bounding from roof to roof - no matter how often she does it or how many time she changes the circuit - makes that go away. Nothing the gods have done can truly make this place feel like the kind of cities she's used to jumping across and the decorative efforts - no matter how relaxing they were at the time - just do nothing but somehow drive that point home even better.
God, she hates the underground. Even one as spacious as this. Even with the good things that can be scraped out of this situation, nothing quite erases the fact that she will always feel, on some level, that this is some delayed punishment for all the things she did with The Agency. Like she isn't allowed to forgive herself for that, even if Glacius asks her to try.
It's too much like those things for her to see anything else in it, no matter how much she distracts herself with work. It doesn't change the place she has to see when she walks from building to building.
She waits on a shot for a moment, until Dean's finished talking, and then pours herself one, the slowly building buzz of alcohol enough to ask the kind of question that would normally have that little, Marc-sounding voice in the back of her head talking about tact and other things. ] You don't just mean the shit they put us through, do you? [ She glances to the side when she says it, watches someone walk past and keeps her voice low enough to not leave their table. ]
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Date: 2016-08-05 08:59 pm (UTC)God, she hates the underground. Even one as spacious as this. Even with the good things that can be scraped out of this situation, nothing quite erases the fact that she will always feel, on some level, that this is some delayed punishment for all the things she did with The Agency. Like she isn't allowed to forgive herself for that, even if Glacius asks her to try.
It's too much like those things for her to see anything else in it, no matter how much she distracts herself with work. It doesn't change the place she has to see when she walks from building to building.
She waits on a shot for a moment, until Dean's finished talking, and then pours herself one, the slowly building buzz of alcohol enough to ask the kind of question that would normally have that little, Marc-sounding voice in the back of her head talking about tact and other things. ] You don't just mean the shit they put us through, do you? [ She glances to the side when she says it, watches someone walk past and keeps her voice low enough to not leave their table. ]