( She never speaks in enough words and he speaks in too many, because when Carlisle starts going, Kate barely has a moment to take in and formulate a response to anything he says before he moves onto the next topic. So she does what she does best and stays silent, watching the flow of his power and the thing that will kill him with milky brown eyes as each word spills freely from Carlisle's lips.
There's so much she could respond to, there. So much that, apparently, needs to be said or questioned. But for the moment, she's more concerned with the cloud of ink in his eye, gripping at the scarf she used to make her way through the dust storm before it got too bad and moving over to his side. Her hand wraps around his upper arm before she tries to use the scarf to wipe away some of the ink.
Okay, where to start. )
... I seem like the type who spends time with people I don't like? ( Because trust Kate, she isn't. ) Too old for that shit. ( And even when she was young, she was too impatient for it. She'll deal with people she doesn't like as is needed, but she certainly doesn't go over to their place for drinks, or pull them into living with her and her best friend.
It's always seemed so obvious to her. Why waste your time like that when life's already shit enough?
Eventually, she folds her arms again, looking at Carlisle and letting her eyes fade to their natural warm brown. But it's less defensive than last time, loose and nearly relaxed.
It feels like, maybe - just maybe -, they're getting somewhere. But, there's one last, very important thing she should say.
It seems like all the things she thinks are obvious aren't so obvious after all. )
I need to know that we haven't missed anything. ( With Hadriel being so strange and alien and bringing together so many things she thought were impossible, she has to have faith that they can do something. ) Maybe you're right. ...Not like this place works like our homes.
( She catches a million explanations in her mouth, traps them between her teeth and lets out a breath. There's one real reason for it, and maybe it's a selfish one, but maybe Carlisle will understand it at least: )
Marc was killed ten years ago. Done all sorts of things since then but... still. Always find myself thinking what if I'd done something different.
( That's why she can't just let this be a fine, have it your way, I'm not getting involved. )
no subject
There's so much she could respond to, there. So much that, apparently, needs to be said or questioned. But for the moment, she's more concerned with the cloud of ink in his eye, gripping at the scarf she used to make her way through the dust storm before it got too bad and moving over to his side. Her hand wraps around his upper arm before she tries to use the scarf to wipe away some of the ink.
Okay, where to start. )
... I seem like the type who spends time with people I don't like? ( Because trust Kate, she isn't. ) Too old for that shit. ( And even when she was young, she was too impatient for it. She'll deal with people she doesn't like as is needed, but she certainly doesn't go over to their place for drinks, or pull them into living with her and her best friend.
It's always seemed so obvious to her. Why waste your time like that when life's already shit enough?
Eventually, she folds her arms again, looking at Carlisle and letting her eyes fade to their natural warm brown. But it's less defensive than last time, loose and nearly relaxed.
It feels like, maybe - just maybe -, they're getting somewhere. But, there's one last, very important thing she should say.
It seems like all the things she thinks are obvious aren't so obvious after all. )
I need to know that we haven't missed anything. ( With Hadriel being so strange and alien and bringing together so many things she thought were impossible, she has to have faith that they can do something. ) Maybe you're right. ...Not like this place works like our homes.
( She catches a million explanations in her mouth, traps them between her teeth and lets out a breath. There's one real reason for it, and maybe it's a selfish one, but maybe Carlisle will understand it at least: )
Marc was killed ten years ago. Done all sorts of things since then but... still. Always find myself thinking what if I'd done something different.
( That's why she can't just let this be a fine, have it your way, I'm not getting involved. )