[ she rests her head against his arm as they walk, slowing down a bit so she can listen. ]
Well, you probably were.
[ which is kind of rude but like, listen. she's so used to rich people being nightmares - she's so used to being on the other side of it, watching all the topsiders carry on like there wasn't a city full of struggling people right beneath their feet. in her experience, they never cared, unless they could make an example out of one of them. or exploit them. ]
... Caitlyn was sort of like that. [ she says, after a moment. ] She used to want to make things better for us. She wanted to do what was right. And then my sister killed her mom and she decided there was - you know, merit to all of us being scum.
[ he knows all of these pieces by now, over time. ]
[ strohl thinks it again - for not the first time tonight, or the second. You deserve better than that.
the idea burns him the way it burned him the first time she told this story, the way it burned him when he lived it, but it -
well. it reminds him of heismay, for a moment, too. of the rapport it took him time to build with basilio, of learning and unlearning and all the things they've all had to do, bit by bit. there's a pulse to his emotions of familiarity. a longing, brief and scattered, for home, but he shakes it off. ]
She was wrong. [ is his actual response, more measured and thoughtful, though his frown is severe, and he clearly means that - she was wrong and that's final. ] Just petty vengeance, in the end, it doesn't solve anything. Punishing an entire group of people for the actions of one person, that's what Louis is doing.
[ strohl falls quiet - presses his lips together for a moment, then looks down at her out of the corner of his eye, as he quells his own anger in place of concern. ] ...The two of you were close as could be.
[ she lets that sink in for a moment, weighs it in her mind. and then. after a moment: ]
Yeah. I liked her. [ had a thing for her. but she's not entirely sure that's still true. getting thrown away like that, having her sister thrown in her face - and then just really never getting to talk to her again after that, being put here and talking to people who seem to care about her for who she is...
it's hard to remember she might've cared. it's hard to think about how she might have just... settled for that. for someone who showed her bare minimum kindness. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Well, you probably were.
[ which is kind of rude but like, listen. she's so used to rich people being nightmares - she's so used to being on the other side of it, watching all the topsiders carry on like there wasn't a city full of struggling people right beneath their feet. in her experience, they never cared, unless they could make an example out of one of them. or exploit them. ]
... Caitlyn was sort of like that. [ she says, after a moment. ] She used to want to make things better for us. She wanted to do what was right. And then my sister killed her mom and she decided there was - you know, merit to all of us being scum.
[ he knows all of these pieces by now, over time. ]
no subject
the idea burns him the way it burned him the first time she told this story, the way it burned him when he lived it, but it -
well. it reminds him of heismay, for a moment, too. of the rapport it took him time to build with basilio, of learning and unlearning and all the things they've all had to do, bit by bit. there's a pulse to his emotions of familiarity. a longing, brief and scattered, for home, but he shakes it off. ]
She was wrong. [ is his actual response, more measured and thoughtful, though his frown is severe, and he clearly means that - she was wrong and that's final. ] Just petty vengeance, in the end, it doesn't solve anything. Punishing an entire group of people for the actions of one person, that's what Louis is doing.
[ strohl falls quiet - presses his lips together for a moment, then looks down at her out of the corner of his eye, as he quells his own anger in place of concern. ] ...The two of you were close as could be.
[ partners. ]
no subject
Yeah. I liked her. [ had a thing for her. but she's not entirely sure that's still true. getting thrown away like that, having her sister thrown in her face - and then just really never getting to talk to her again after that, being put here and talking to people who seem to care about her for who she is...
it's hard to remember she might've cared. it's hard to think about how she might have just... settled for that. for someone who showed her bare minimum kindness. ]
I don't know. It feels like a long time ago.
[ feels like I've changed, too. ]