The boy - for he is kn his way to being that again, the ragged and rail thin bag of dessicated bones dripping from his likeness as a layers of varnish flakes away - narrows his eyes at her. In the great lexicon of sideways looks that he's leveled, this one is very sidelong indeed. There might even be a frankness to it which could almost be called honesty.
"What?" The question startles her enough that she actually looks over at Bartimaeus - which is definitely a mistake, because the half-person half-monster look is really utterly dreadful. "Ugh," she says involuntarily, and looks away again.
Then - "Don't be ridiculous. This place is awful. Everyone's constantly kicking everyone else around and abusing them and hurting them, and it's not even mage-versus-commoner here, it's - that, and also elf-versus-human, and noble-versus-commoner, and so on and so on. A hundred more levels of awfulness and abuse and cruelty even beyond what we know."
And yet. She could end there, but something in her, some little spark of dreadful honesty, pushes her to admit - "People...do rather care what I have to say here, though. A bit."
--It is not, in immediate retrospect, really an ah-ha moment. Not yet anyway. After all, is there any word Kitty Jones loves more than 'care'? He can't think of one. Yet it feels like a kind of victory - some kind of point on the verge of being proven or an inch of hold he doesn't quite yet know how to leverage. But there is a gap there and he senses it deserves investigation.
"Reaaaally. I take it that you're enjoying the novelty. I know I would."
"Don't say that like - that," she mutters, because there's something she quite dislikes about his tone. Something dreadfully smug, when, what's there even to be smug about. "What I'm enjoying is the knowledge that I've actually got the ability to fight for things here. Back home, we stood about in Mr Pennyfeather's art shop and snarled at one another and got greedy. Here - Here, I've actually helped people. Saved people."
She feels horribly, dreadfully self-conscious, just then, and looks down at her feet as they scuff at the floor. You sound so stupid, Kitty. "So that matters."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2019-09-24 12:21 am (UTC)It is, at the very least, honest suspicion.
"You prefer this place, don't you?"
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Date: 2019-09-24 08:31 am (UTC)Then - "Don't be ridiculous. This place is awful. Everyone's constantly kicking everyone else around and abusing them and hurting them, and it's not even mage-versus-commoner here, it's - that, and also elf-versus-human, and noble-versus-commoner, and so on and so on. A hundred more levels of awfulness and abuse and cruelty even beyond what we know."
And yet. She could end there, but something in her, some little spark of dreadful honesty, pushes her to admit - "People...do rather care what I have to say here, though. A bit."
no subject
Date: 2019-09-25 01:07 am (UTC)--It is not, in immediate retrospect, really an ah-ha moment. Not yet anyway. After all, is there any word Kitty Jones loves more than 'care'? He can't think of one. Yet it feels like a kind of victory - some kind of point on the verge of being proven or an inch of hold he doesn't quite yet know how to leverage. But there is a gap there and he senses it deserves investigation.
"Reaaaally. I take it that you're enjoying the novelty. I know I would."
no subject
Date: 2019-09-25 01:14 am (UTC)She feels horribly, dreadfully self-conscious, just then, and looks down at her feet as they scuff at the floor. You sound so stupid, Kitty. "So that matters."