[It's most certainly a different magic than the one she knows. But then she's never had access to a witch's perspective. And there were certainly different kinds, with all sort of magic at their disposal. Perhaps in another life, she'll meet someone like him.
In this one, she can do her best to listen. Though the tender admission at the end urges her to look away, brushing nervously at her hair.]
That's very kind of you to say, Artemy.
I just...don't know how long that will be true. Not when everyone believes I've killed her. Maybe you shouldn't be so quick to align yourself with me.
[ he snorts at that, like he cannot believe you said that! ]
If they would be so quick as to judge me for remaining steadfast to you, then why would I care for friends as such?
[ he looks to her, his eyes softening a little. he debates, and then. ]
I have been branded murderer before, long before all this, accused of a patricide. No one believed me save a precious few. [ stubbornly: ] So I would not let the sway of others so easily change my mind... whether, in the nature of this place, it becomes true in the end or not. I would not allow something like this to sway my stance.
Were you? [Redundant repetitions. Sort of a sign of weakness in diplomatic discussions, but Rosamund hasn't had to practice true statecraft yet. She hates how simple-minded she sounds sometimes.] ...May I ask what happened?
[It's not that she couldn't believe it. And not because he cuts such an imposing figure. It's only that the lives of all these people are so very extraordinary, she expects something shocking and dark out of all of them. It's just the nature of the darkness that remains to be seen.]
Well. Then I'm grateful. It's very hard to find the sort of people who would do that, in this kind of circumstance. Or — I mean in the worlds outside these places. Where we're not assuming everyone was possessed or something.
[ he wouldn't know, he's never been a diplomat. his expression just shifts a little, it's complicated. ]
My father died shortly after my arrival back home... the first time around, before the Eudora. I'd barely stepped off the train when I had three men coming at me with a knife saying I'd murdered my own father.
Apparently word got around that maybe I'd wanted his inheritance for myself, so they said I killed him for it. Had the entire town on my back for several days before they started to calm down... some people still didn't believe me. [ a beat ] But I've had to kill other people, people who wanted me dead first - and for that, I do feel the guilt. It's hard to ever stop feeling the guilt. I'm the Ripper, that's what they call me. Butcher. There isn't a day where sometimes I accept that it's a name I've earned in terrible ways.
[ he smiles tiredly at her. ]
But this is not about me. Influenced or not... Will is will, and we live with the things we have done, even if we were given no control at the start. If you can allow others in, to help you heal... then that too is part of your will, the path you choose, to grow, to accept, even when it hurts like someone digging into a wound.
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In this one, she can do her best to listen. Though the tender admission at the end urges her to look away, brushing nervously at her hair.]
That's very kind of you to say, Artemy.
I just...don't know how long that will be true. Not when everyone believes I've killed her. Maybe you shouldn't be so quick to align yourself with me.
no subject
If they would be so quick as to judge me for remaining steadfast to you, then why would I care for friends as such?
[ he looks to her, his eyes softening a little. he debates, and then. ]
I have been branded murderer before, long before all this, accused of a patricide. No one believed me save a precious few. [ stubbornly: ] So I would not let the sway of others so easily change my mind... whether, in the nature of this place, it becomes true in the end or not. I would not allow something like this to sway my stance.
no subject
[It's not that she couldn't believe it. And not because he cuts such an imposing figure. It's only that the lives of all these people are so very extraordinary, she expects something shocking and dark out of all of them. It's just the nature of the darkness that remains to be seen.]
Well. Then I'm grateful. It's very hard to find the sort of people who would do that, in this kind of circumstance. Or — I mean in the worlds outside these places. Where we're not assuming everyone was possessed or something.
no subject
My father died shortly after my arrival back home... the first time around, before the Eudora. I'd barely stepped off the train when I had three men coming at me with a knife saying I'd murdered my own father.
Apparently word got around that maybe I'd wanted his inheritance for myself, so they said I killed him for it. Had the entire town on my back for several days before they started to calm down... some people still didn't believe me. [ a beat ] But I've had to kill other people, people who wanted me dead first - and for that, I do feel the guilt. It's hard to ever stop feeling the guilt. I'm the Ripper, that's what they call me. Butcher. There isn't a day where sometimes I accept that it's a name I've earned in terrible ways.
[ he smiles tiredly at her. ]
But this is not about me. Influenced or not... Will is will, and we live with the things we have done, even if we were given no control at the start. If you can allow others in, to help you heal... then that too is part of your will, the path you choose, to grow, to accept, even when it hurts like someone digging into a wound.