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rathercommon

crystal | letter | cease and desist notices slipped under her door | action

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From:

shri

[ It's not that she's... nervous.

Alright, perhaps she is. The stiff pinch in her shoulders, that way she doesn't quite settle. Doesn't hold into one spot completely. Ready to move - but where or what for when she is the one willingly here is - ]

Hello, Kitty. May I speak with you?

From:

rathercommon

Yeah. Of course.

[ The nerves make her nervous. But she moves aside, waving her in towards the room's lone chair. Kitty closes the door and bolts it. ]

D'you want something to drink?

From:

shri

[ She steps through, keeping her hands at her side and her step long. Biting on her tongue on the nag that comes almost unbidden, I hope you're keeping your room properly.

Instead, she takes a slow breath. ] No, it is alright. I will not trouble you too long.

Edited Date: 2018-11-17 02:02 am (UTC)

From:

rathercommon

[ "Properly," for Kitty, is keeping the room bare: the place is utterly devoid of personality, as bland as it was when she moved in. If she disappears tomorrow, the place will bear no trace of her. But it is clean - spotlessly so, not a bit of dust to be seen.

She takes the bed, drawing her legs up to sit crosswise. ]

I'm not busy. Trouble me as long as you need.

From:

shri

[ Where to ... begin. This was already more direct than with Marcoulf. That was something half thought through at the time. Some sense of - she doesn't know. ]

I wanted to... apologise. For... all of it. The fade, for never telling you the whole of who I truly am. You deserved... better from me.

From:

rathercommon

[ No sooner than she speaks is Kitty shaking her head, waving her hand to brush it aside as one would wave away a mosquito. ]

Oh - that's all done with. Don't fret about that, please. [ Then, more directly - ] You've got the right to keep your secrets, and you've got the right to try to get home. I'm not about to abuse you for it like they've all done.

From:

shri

[ That honestly - takes her a second. Her mouth clicks shut with a little clack of her teeth against themselves. Her fingers brushing against each other in a fiddle of trying to work out where this goes. ]

Still. I never... expected anyone to follow me. I thought it would fall only on my head, whatever came of it. I never meant for you...

From:

rathercommon

[ Kitty interrupts dryly. ]

Sorry - are you apologizing to me for my choices?

From:

shri

That is not - [ It's a brief bit of bluster.

But it goes out of her, and she sighs deeply, moving instead to sit on the bed, next to Kitty. Her hands smoothing underneath her to straighten her saree skirts to keep them out of her way. ] Kitty. I never want you to do that again.

From:

rathercommon

[ Kitty turns to face Lakshmi as she sits, pulling her legs up to cross them as she sits more fully on the bed. ]

Don't want me to do which bit? Going to help someone?

From:

shri

[ It's not an easy thing when it comes right down to it. Neither this nor the last time, nor any other time it mattered. When it had to be said. The shades of herself. The shades of girls who should be more than she ever could be.

That was the worst of it - perhaps for all her bluster. All her pride, her viciousness, the absolute way she ever saw the world. That surety in how small she was. A daughter of an old world that she hoped one day to die in. To bury for the sake of - ]

Do not ever, ever risk your life for me again. Do you hear me? What you did, when Helena shot at me? Never again. [ She turns to her, something stricken there, half vulnerable for all she would insist she wasn't. ] Do you not understand - how dear you are to me? You are like my own daughter.

From:

rathercommon

[ Kitty was steady up until those last two words. Daughter, though - that brings out something else in her, something miserable and frightened; she goes pale, then flushes, pulls back. Her lips tighten and her eyes narrow, like she's been struck. ]

Why -

[ She falters, then tries again - ]

Why would you say that?

From:

shri

[ She doesn't look away, doesn't give her the space to misunderstand it this time for other than what it is.

But perhaps, misunderstanding herself, the purpose of Kitty's questions. ]

Because my life is not worth yours. It never has been, and it never will be. I would give anything to see you safe, anything.

From:

rathercommon

No.

[ She shakes her head with too much force. ]

Not - Not that bit.

From:

shri

[ She pauses, her mouth open to say something more, looking back, curious this time more than the wind taken out of her. ]

That I care for you like my own family?

From:

rathercommon

[ A single tense shrug of confirmation. ]

From:

shri

[ And that softens something. Not something that could be pinned to anything directly if another were to look. Her shoulders lowering, the slight pull in the corner of her mouth. ]

You risked your life for me, Kitty, did you expect that to mean nothing to me?

From:

rathercommon

I don't know.

[ Kitty shrugs, her shoulders tight. There's a pinched quality to her face - something halfway between discomfort and uncertainty. ]

If it makes us anything, it makes us comrades. Not family.

From:

shri

No, [ she shakes her head. ] comrades fight for each other. They kill for each other. I have had many.

[ But there is a difference, cut and clean and determined. ] But those that would sacrifice so much for each other? That is more, Kitty, that is family. In more than blood, but by action, and you will never find truer than by such things.

From:

rathercommon

[ A short, sharp laugh, one that's bitter and unpleasant. ]

That's not really my experience with family.

From:

shri

It should have been. That is what family is supposed to be. [ Her mouth pinches, an unhappy turn. ]

Will you tell me of them, your mother and father?

From:

rathercommon

[ Kitty offers a tense shrug in response. She studiously does not look at Lakshmi. ]

Not really my mum and dad any longer. They made that pretty clear. Handed me over to the government to save their sorry skins and told me I wasn't the girl they'd raised. So there's nothing to talk about.

From:

shri

[ Though she doesn't, Lakshmi certainly does. Her eyes fixed on her, watching how she moves, shifts her body. Doesn't turn towards her, doesn't box her or force something upon her by way of little movements.

But she watches, with slow blinks, she watches. ]

Then their short-sightedness is their loss. But it will not be mine. I ask nothing from you, Kitty, I am not here for you to call me your Babaji, but I know... I know I never got to tell my own Devi, as often as I should, how I care for her. I will not make the same mistake, now.

From:

rathercommon

[ Her hands clench together harder. But there's no real escalation in words, or in tone; her voice remains pinched, but grows no worse. ]

I don't need a mum. I've never needed one, really. When people have told me what to do and who to be, it's just held me back. I'm not going to take it from anyone ever again.

[ But it's not as harsh as it might be. It's not a rejection; it's just a warning. ]

From:

shri

I think I learned that well enough. That horse still deserves your apology, by the way.

[ When will she let it die? Never, apparently. But it isn't goading or demanding, it's laughing more than anything else. ]

But Kitty, you are a singular young woman, and you don't need me to tell you that, I am sure. [ She leans, near, her hand cupping against Kitty's cheek to turn her face towards her. Had to get this out now, or it will never happen. ] I will be glad, one day, to see what you will accomplish, and to let you know that whatever you need, you only need call for me. I will be there.