[He'll always be angry. And he ought to be. Rosamund will always be sorry. And she ought to be, too. Circumstance or not, she was alive when Vi wasn't. She's the one who gets to have Strohl's hands on her arms, his earnest assertions, his concern. In the flesh and not just over missives on the phone.
At least he understands.]
I wish it weren't the only one I had left, then. But wishes rarely get things done.
[Maybe there could have been another way. Maybe she gave up before she got to try. But then she thinks about the hours after trial, under watch in the medical bay. The way her hands had shook when Owner gave her bitter parting words. When Kazuki refused to leave. When Charles tested his theory on her. She was within moments of killing any of them. Trying to. Only miracles restrained from following them out of the room, coiling her hands around their necks.
In the moment now, she lets her hands, so far steady on his shoulders, come to the sides of his cheeks. Her eyes stay fixed on his.]
I do think it's just as hard to stand aside. To allow these things to come to pass. To feel like you could have done more, even if you know it was never something you could change with your own two hands.
We're all bound to ugly things by these games. But it won't be for much longer. It will never be for forever.
[ oh. well. that's an intimate gesture, though that's not the meaning - she'll feel his face warm just slightly, a fair-skinned clemar prone to showing his flush, but he doesn't look away. rosamund's intense, sometimes, in ways that he can be, and he likes that side of her, finds it matching in fire to one of his own. there's a sturdiness to her determination. something iron wrought.
he'd look without the touch, but with it it's cemented. and what she says, in that simple gravitas, is something he agrees with so deeply that it resonates - words that promise forward motion. that promise revolution, the overthrow of this system they're all trapped in, one they've both sworn to take down, from the very beginning.
there's a pause.
and then he makes a noise - a soft huff of a laugh, and nods into her hands, the corners of his mouth lifting up in a smile. there's a spark in his eyes to match, and a softness to his voice holding gravity, words spoken in low, warm admiration. ]
Couldn't have said it better myself. [ it will never be forever. like seven years spent in the darkness, until light dappled across his path. like having no answers, until one day, they came.
no subject
At least he understands.]
I wish it weren't the only one I had left, then. But wishes rarely get things done.
[Maybe there could have been another way. Maybe she gave up before she got to try. But then she thinks about the hours after trial, under watch in the medical bay. The way her hands had shook when Owner gave her bitter parting words. When Kazuki refused to leave. When Charles tested his theory on her. She was within moments of killing any of them. Trying to. Only miracles restrained from following them out of the room, coiling her hands around their necks.
In the moment now, she lets her hands, so far steady on his shoulders, come to the sides of his cheeks. Her eyes stay fixed on his.]
I do think it's just as hard to stand aside. To allow these things to come to pass. To feel like you could have done more, even if you know it was never something you could change with your own two hands.
We're all bound to ugly things by these games. But it won't be for much longer. It will never be for forever.
no subject
he'd look without the touch, but with it it's cemented. and what she says, in that simple gravitas, is something he agrees with so deeply that it resonates - words that promise forward motion. that promise revolution, the overthrow of this system they're all trapped in, one they've both sworn to take down, from the very beginning.
there's a pause.
and then he makes a noise - a soft huff of a laugh, and nods into her hands, the corners of his mouth lifting up in a smile. there's a spark in his eyes to match, and a softness to his voice holding gravity, words spoken in low, warm admiration. ]
Couldn't have said it better myself. [ it will never be forever. like seven years spent in the darkness, until light dappled across his path. like having no answers, until one day, they came.
what a great time for a memshare in return. ]