[ She has to think about it. Her head leans to one side, glancing from one little grave to another. There were always a million other things going on, after all... most of the answers people wanted from her were things that didn't matter.
She taps the back of her pen the older Dog-Eared man. ]
Yeah. He wanted to know if I'd be okay with him trying. But, like... it's not like I could say I wasn't, right? How I really felt didn't matter. [ Her shoulder shrugs where she's leaning against him, but he won't feel any tension when it drops. These are old hurts. ] I mean... it's no fair asking other people to be miserable just because you're sad. If I said anything like that, they'd have... moped and danced around it for six months, and wait for me to change my mind, and it would have felt like my fault. Or, they'd have gone for it anyway, and would have tried to keep it from me. Things were hard enough already.
[ She explains it so plainly, so matter-of-fact. As though the things that mattered most were the practicalities, and how those decisions would cascade into consequence after consequence, like everything is a game of dominoes. She calculates them out for everyone else, but never for herself. How I really felt didn't matter — she hasn't changed at all.
But... to her, it feels now a little unfair for her to have said anything at all. None of them are around to defend themselves, and — though imPorts arriving here from before the City's destruction isn't impossible — the chance of any one of them showing up is well below one percent. There's no one left who knows them but Ruka, so... if all she tells are her uncharitable, childish frustrations, then that's all anyone will know them for. Not any of the good they'd done, or the care they'd given her, or just how much suffering each of them had endured on their own up to that point. ]
I wanted them to be happy. It was... just a stupid situation. That's all.
no subject
She taps the back of her pen the older Dog-Eared man. ]
Yeah. He wanted to know if I'd be okay with him trying. But, like... it's not like I could say I wasn't, right? How I really felt didn't matter. [ Her shoulder shrugs where she's leaning against him, but he won't feel any tension when it drops. These are old hurts. ] I mean... it's no fair asking other people to be miserable just because you're sad. If I said anything like that, they'd have... moped and danced around it for six months, and wait for me to change my mind, and it would have felt like my fault. Or, they'd have gone for it anyway, and would have tried to keep it from me. Things were hard enough already.
[ She explains it so plainly, so matter-of-fact. As though the things that mattered most were the practicalities, and how those decisions would cascade into consequence after consequence, like everything is a game of dominoes. She calculates them out for everyone else, but never for herself. How I really felt didn't matter — she hasn't changed at all.
But... to her, it feels now a little unfair for her to have said anything at all. None of them are around to defend themselves, and — though imPorts arriving here from before the City's destruction isn't impossible — the chance of any one of them showing up is well below one percent. There's no one left who knows them but Ruka, so... if all she tells are her uncharitable, childish frustrations, then that's all anyone will know them for. Not any of the good they'd done, or the care they'd given her, or just how much suffering each of them had endured on their own up to that point. ]
I wanted them to be happy. It was... just a stupid situation. That's all.