priscilla | Forge Contact II

I see.

Did he attack you or were you involved in a legitimate spar?

[Hm. Is both an answer? Not really. She just feels like it is.]

It was [brb choking on this word] ...legitimate.

Then... is it really surprising?

...that last bit is a little sadistic. But I guess that doesn't surprise me very much. He is... who he is.

[Surprising? Not really, when she thinks about it. But it's nightmare fuel for many reasons.]

[...]

It isn't.

Then why are you telling me?

Is there something you'd like me to do about it?

[She just barely manages to avoid saying what she's thinking. Which is, "I don't understand why people keep agreeing to fight him and then complaining to me about it."]

No. There's nothing that I expect you to do. It's ...done with.

I just thought you should know.

All right, then.

If it upsets you so much, then I'd recommend opting out of further confrontations with him. He probably isn't going to be any nicer next time. The most I can really do about it is ask him to show self-restraint, but I'd prefer to ask as little of him as possible.

He's very indulgent of me, but everyone has their limit. It would be better if he didn't reach his as far as giving me what I ask from him.

I--

[Hurr. She presses her lips together.]

--are you all right?

[She partly hopes that he won't be nice next time. If there is a next time. It's not as if there are a lot of people that can really push her limits.]

I's not my intent to place you in the middle of this. No need to ask him anything, I was merely relaying the information. I'd prefer if you didn't ask him anything on my behalf.

[Decisions. Decisions. And this one is fairly easy: just tell the truth.]

No. But I will be.

[...]

...are you?

I know you will be. You are a strong person, and more than capable of recovering from an incident like that.

[...]

And my well-being is no longer your concern.

[You seem to know her better than she knows herself, then. She'd doubted her ability to recover at the outset.]

I am far less strong than you believe.

[...]

Ah. You would rather I not care, then? I lack the ability to decide what I care about and what I do not.

[A little quieter:]

You don't say things that you don't mean, so ...why bother asking if I am alright?

You can care about anything you like. That doesn't make it your concern.

And you seemed distressed. I don't really know why - I'm sure you've been more injured than that. But it isn't as though I like seeing people upset.

I can care about your well-being, just not concern myself with it? Essentially, you are telling me to care from the sidelines.

Fair enough.

I was ...distressed. I still am, to some degree. And you are not incorrect - I was injured far worse when I lost my arm.

No, you don't. But I was, and am still under the impression that I no longer...

...the question was surprising is all.

I'm not telling you to do or not do anything, Irene. I can't control how you feel. But that doesn't mean I need to grant you access to information about me.

Who knows where that kind of information would end up?

[ :| ]

[And yes, her voice is as flat as that mouth.]

No, but you can tell me what would be less uncomfortable for you and I can do my best to abide.

[Flat, but not quite as flat as what Priscilla said prior.]

Deneve's forge, yes.

...I'm sorry, but when did you become concerned about what does and does not make me uncomfortable?

Believe what you will, but I was always concerned with it.

Not very much.

[Her voice sharpens a little.]

Not enough to make a difference.

[Oh, but she did make a difference! Just in the opposite way that she wanted. But still. Ouch. So have some self-directed bitterness.]

Didn't I? Look at how much has changed in the space of barely more than a week.

[...]

You're right. Maybe not enough. Maybe too much. But it's irrelevant to you now, isn't it?

It's not irrelevant.

If it were irrelevant, I wouldn't feel so sick about it!

It was never my intent.

[Of course, it makes the sickness that's uncurled itself after that spar feel like a fitting punishment. She'll let it settle in some more. Let it get a bit more (un)comfortable beneath her skin.]

But that doesn't matter. What matters is the ruin I've left you with.

[...]

I do see that, now.

It doesn't matter if you see it, or if you don't see it, or -- it doesn't matter what you think.

What you did... I can't ever forgive that. And what you said when I confronted you over it? I wouldn't be able to stop it from echoing in my head even without that betrayal.

It's good to know what you think of me. That's the only positive thing I can possibly say about the entire thing.

I'm not asking for your forgiveness, Priscilla. It's something as lost to me as [sigh] I don't know ...turning back time.

But regardless of what I think the outcome is still the same.

As for what I said. It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth, and it certainly isn't what or how I think of you. Every thought, every momentary consideration came spilling out without direction or filter.

But it in no way excuses what I did.

Then why are you talking to me?!

In truth? I suppose I would rather the anger than the silence.

[...]

And because I wanted you to know.

So. Now I know.

[...]

And I'd rather the silence.

LOL!

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this icon: -_-

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