tucky | IC contact for lastvoyages

Yes.

[A choice, in her own mind, to focus, to prioritize -- but she thinks she could say that over and over again and it would never quite connect the same way for Tiffany.]

What if somebody you hurt comes and tells me to do the same thing with you?

Then you'll have to make another choice.

If I was trying to be all logical, I'd pick you - 'cause you're my friend, and you care about me. Hell, he'd tell me not to pick him, I think.

But I ain't so good at logic, and I can't pick either of you. Not for something like trying to pick who to hear.

[Which is more or less what she expected, as painful and frustrating as it is to hear. She draws in a shaky breath and lets it out slow, pressing her lips tight together at the end of it, but she nods.]

Then I can't stay.

Maybe I'm not making the right choices.

[She rolls over on the couch, pressing her fingertips into the fabric.]

They're my choices, and nobody's telling me to make 'em; I'm thinking about 'em and doing it on my own. But I don't know for sure they're all of 'em right.

I'm sorry I let you down.

You're not. You're just trying to avoid having to. You're choosing not to choose.

[But she's done fighting with her. The words are brittle and bitter, but without heat. She's used to being passed over, anyway; there's always something more important than her. She can't understand the logic or thought process behind this one, and that makes the hurt a little more bewildering, but at least she has other people to go to now. People who haven't tossed her away yet.]

I think you hope I'll decide to stay anyway, but I won't. I can't. I can't put my life in the hands of someone who can't-- who won't even make such a simple decision.

So have fun with the bomber and his nails. I hope that's very rewarding for you.

It's not simple to me. Do you understand? I wanna hear you, but I want you to hear me, too.

-- And fuck him; I'm not talking to him, anyway.

No -- you don't understand. I'm not arguing with you about this anymore. I'm done. I'm going.

[And obviously saying it doesn't seem to be sinking in, so she starts moving, going to pick up the few things she's left lying around -- a book, a hairbrush.]

You can be irresponsible with your own life, but not with mine.

I wouldn't be. You're wrong about that.

[She stays on the couch, but sits up.]

You ain't wrong to be mad, but you're wrong about me. I wouldn't-- sacrifice you; that's not it. If you don't wanna know the truth, that's fine, you don't owe me nothing, but you got the wrong idea about how I think.

[Nina very rarely curses, and even now she does it in Russian, but the heat rises back in her voice.]

If you don't understand how you already are, how you already did, then I'm definitely not staying.

You weren't staying in the first place.

[Because she wishes Nina would stay, but she definitely doesn't think she can talk her into it.]

You think I was laughing. Maybe you think I'd laugh if somebody hurt you. But I wasn't and I wouldn't.

No.

[She doesn't stop packing, her movements becoming increasingly frenetic as she shoves things into her bag; she's distressed enough now that for a change, even she isn't thinking about folding neatly.]

I think you would tell me you were very, very sorry, and you would mean it, and you wouldn't stop to think how anything you just did might have led to it, and then you would do all the same thing again.

I don't think gasping at him and telling him he's a monster and going, like-- how horrible, how dare you is gonna make him want to do that shit any less. I think maybe it would make him want to do it more. And I don't think he's dumb enough to think, well, Tiffany ain't getting outraged about it, so that means it ain't a bad thing to do.

Then you don't say anything. You shut the hell up and you let him talk into nothing until he gets tired of the sound of his own voice. That's how you deal with a man like that. You don't say, oh, how interesting, tell me more -- and you don't give him ultimatums!

Do you know why I haven't died here yet? Because I leave people like that alone.

Do you say that to all the wardens, or do you just say it to me? I'm supposed to be learning to understand people here, and listening to 'em, and hearing their side - I can't do that if I ignore them!

Then you can't protect me, and you can't keep me safe -- and I would say the same to any of you that wanted to call yourself my friend.

[And maybe that's another reminder of why she doesn't think she really can be friends, actual friends, with the wardens; maybe it just reminds her that she can't forget how alone she actually is here. It doesn't matter. It can't. Nothing but survival matters, at least until they're through the Land of the Dead.]

I feel like I'm trying to be too many things at the same time. Maybe I ain't made for that; maybe I ain't meant to be like Iris.

[She pauses just long enough to let out a breath, a tremble running through her, because:]

That's what I've been trying to say.

But I ca-- I don't want to be one of the people who says all those people who do bad things are just madmen. They got no reasons for doing what they do and they ain't worth listening to or understanding. That is not who I want to be, and if I have to do that for you to think I'm on your side, then--

Then you chose.

[Her voice shakes a little, but she's not trying to fight that any more than she was a minute ago.]

I said that, too.

Choose who's a manman and who isn't? Choose who's worth hearing?

[She snorts softly and goes back to packing, hardening herself again with a quick shiver, a quick blink of her eyes. Her voice cools, tired and unhappy and done.]

Chose to have me go. So I'm going. You do whatever you want.

That's your choice, Nina, not mine. You got a right to make it, but but I'm not forcing you.

[She starts to say something, but then stops and shakes her head, and now her voice cools quickly.]

Fine.

Edited 2016-04-29 15:23 (UTC)

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