It's written all over her face, that regret and sudden understanding and guilt, because way to go, Brown. There's a reason she doesn't have many friends, and it's because she tends to let her anger get the better of her, making her say stupid shit like this.]
I'm sorry.
[For... everything, really. Both her own actions, words, and she's sorry for how shitty that situation must inevitably be.]
I don't think blood should define us.
[That's what she meant, it's what she was trying to say, but got too caught up in her own anger and - selfishness to put it properly.]
I THOUGHT HE DID i may have... just thought about using their names and forgotten fuck idek anymore
B-blood-- ( Blood is what gave him his magic, wasn't it? Meant to be in the blood. Meant to be carried, or genetic, or maybe it was just the vitality of blood itself that carried magic, he had no idea. He grits his teeth, struggles to make his tongue work with his voice, with how to form the words.) B-blood is all I h-have.
( And his blood doesn't even want him. But it's all he has. There was his blood, and there was Max. His love for Max might be enduring, but that didn't mean she'd have a use for him, always. At least his blood would still be his blood, even if they wished he wasn't. Something unhappy twists his mouth. I don't want that blood. Yeah. He imagined his sisters felt the same way.
He shakes his head, pushes back his chair, but can't quite go even if he's standing, because she's his friend. And he's not ever really had those. )
[Apparently she just shouldn't be allowed to say things to Donny, considering how thoroughly she manages to keep making an ass of herself.
For a moment she's quiet, expression somewhere between wrought and apologetic, as she tries to work out how to explain or apologize or something, since she likes Atlas, thinks Donny could use a friend, and doesn't want to leave this on a sour note.]
Wait. [As he stands, and she reaches out her hand to lay on the table closer to him, not actually making contact, but the gesture is clear enough. Stay. More quietly:] I wasn't being fair.
[She looks up at him, then away, sinking into her chair a little.]
My daughter won't have any of that; the only family she'll know is the one who took her in, and that's-- I know it's so much better, for her, because she doesn't want the same blood I've got, because she's better off growing up without knowing what her mother, her grandparents are like.
[She can't imagine telling her daughter that she was the one who started the gang war.]
But that's not... It's not the same for everyone. I wasn't thinking.
[She was just thinking about herself, her own circumstances, instead of how it might be for someone else.]
( He's conflicted, but he sits back down, watching her from behind his hair, dragging his fingers through it so it falls over his face against and not bothering to fix it. And then she's talking, and she's got a daughter, and he doesn't know how to feel or what to think. He's not a parent, he doesn't know, but he remembers some of the girls from the shelter and the clinic and how scared they were. How tough, some of them, strong, but that didn't keep them from being scared. His mind catches, there, and he opens his mouth to try and offer anything.
There's nothing.
Painfully, he swallows air, an awkward click in his throat. Hollow, slapping sound, and he still doesn't have ay words. Typical, Adonis. At least he can shake his head, don't be sorry, please don't be sorry. )
I'm-- s-sorry.
( Falling woefully short, and yet it's the truth of it. Anything else would probably be patronising. He's sorry for getting mad, and he's sorry that she hurts, and that she feels like that about herself and her own family, and that she doesn't know her daughter, and that she had to make that decision. He's just sorry.
Silence, before he it just-- )
She's m-my-- she's my b-big sister.
( A little desperate. She's his sister. He idolised her, even when he was scared of her, and it feels like whatever tentative foundation did exist in his life was ripped away with finding out who - what - she was. )
[She curls her knees up to her chest, warms wrapped around them, looking exactly as guilty as she feels, wishing she was better at talking to people.]
Don't.
[Don't apologize, not when she's the one who spoke without thinking and upset him, and she feels even guiltier once he has apologized, because she feels like he should still be mad at her.
What he sas next... she doesn't know what to say to that, not when she's already fucked up really badly and just wants to help, now. What does he want her to say? She doesn't know, can tell he's sad and desperate but isn't sure what kind of reassurance he might need or want. In the ed, she just looks at him, making a I don't know what to do sort of gesture in the way her hands lift from around her knees.]
( Do this. To have these conversations, to have someone apologise to him.
Max told him that she was dangerous and he should be careful, Morgana called him wise and a fool, his sisters called him useless, idiot. He feels so raw all the time, and this feels like exposed nerves, but with Max he's trying to try the honesty out of her and make her see she isn't a monster, and she knows he's... she sees him. She was the first one to see him.
Stephanie doesn't see. No one did, really, except for Max, but now Stephanie is apologising, and he can't handle that. )
Atlas is b-better at this.
( At people, and he shrugs, makes a move for the door. )
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
controlledvariable) wrote2014-02-02 07:59 pm
wait he did???
It's written all over her face, that regret and sudden understanding and guilt, because way to go, Brown. There's a reason she doesn't have many friends, and it's because she tends to let her anger get the better of her, making her say stupid shit like this.]
I'm sorry.
[For... everything, really. Both her own actions, words, and she's sorry for how shitty that situation must inevitably be.]
I don't think blood should define us.
[That's what she meant, it's what she was trying to say, but got too caught up in her own anger and - selfishness to put it properly.]
I THOUGHT HE DID i may have... just thought about using their names and forgotten fuck idek anymore
( And his blood doesn't even want him. But it's all he has. There was his blood, and there was Max. His love for Max might be enduring, but that didn't mean she'd have a use for him, always. At least his blood would still be his blood, even if they wished he wasn't. Something unhappy twists his mouth. I don't want that blood. Yeah. He imagined his sisters felt the same way.
He shakes his head, pushes back his chair, but can't quite go even if he's standing, because she's his friend. And he's not ever really had those. )
it's okay i'll just play along
For a moment she's quiet, expression somewhere between wrought and apologetic, as she tries to work out how to explain or apologize or something, since she likes Atlas, thinks Donny could use a friend, and doesn't want to leave this on a sour note.]
Wait. [As he stands, and she reaches out her hand to lay on the table closer to him, not actually making contact, but the gesture is clear enough. Stay. More quietly:] I wasn't being fair.
[She looks up at him, then away, sinking into her chair a little.]
My daughter won't have any of that; the only family she'll know is the one who took her in, and that's-- I know it's so much better, for her, because she doesn't want the same blood I've got, because she's better off growing up without knowing what her mother, her grandparents are like.
[She can't imagine telling her daughter that she was the one who started the gang war.]
But that's not... It's not the same for everyone. I wasn't thinking.
[She was just thinking about herself, her own circumstances, instead of how it might be for someone else.]
I'm sorry.
bro 4 lyfe
There's nothing.
Painfully, he swallows air, an awkward click in his throat. Hollow, slapping sound, and he still doesn't have ay words. Typical, Adonis. At least he can shake his head, don't be sorry, please don't be sorry. )
I'm-- s-sorry.
( Falling woefully short, and yet it's the truth of it. Anything else would probably be patronising. He's sorry for getting mad, and he's sorry that she hurts, and that she feels like that about herself and her own family, and that she doesn't know her daughter, and that she had to make that decision. He's just sorry.
Silence, before he it just-- )
She's m-my-- she's my b-big sister.
( A little desperate. She's his sister. He idolised her, even when he was scared of her, and it feels like whatever tentative foundation did exist in his life was ripped away with finding out who - what - she was. )
no subject
Don't.
[Don't apologize, not when she's the one who spoke without thinking and upset him, and she feels even guiltier once he has apologized, because she feels like he should still be mad at her.
What he sas next... she doesn't know what to say to that, not when she's already fucked up really badly and just wants to help, now. What does he want her to say? She doesn't know, can tell he's sad and desperate but isn't sure what kind of reassurance he might need or want. In the ed, she just looks at him, making a I don't know what to do sort of gesture in the way her hands lift from around her knees.]
no subject
( Do this. To have these conversations, to have someone apologise to him.
Max told him that she was dangerous and he should be careful, Morgana called him wise and a fool, his sisters called him useless, idiot. He feels so raw all the time, and this feels like exposed nerves, but with Max he's trying to try the honesty out of her and make her see she isn't a monster, and she knows he's... she sees him. She was the first one to see him.
Stephanie doesn't see. No one did, really, except for Max, but now Stephanie is apologising, and he can't handle that. )
Atlas is b-better at this.
( At people, and he shrugs, makes a move for the door. )