She's not to blame, I worked her up to start with -
[ Coward. The word stills her. She's a lot of things, she knows, and something twists in her stomach.
Maybe that's why she's sharp, unforgiving about her. Her weeping and her childish fits about how awful this mental connection was. It was all just so unfair. It seethes so ugly inside of her. Fine, she could think that all she liked, and if it had just been Angel that had suffered for it the bearings alone? Maybe she would keep it to herself.
For one second, she doesn't respond, she clutches tightly to Petre when he comes close. To draw him to her where she needs him most, her hand to his wrist, not caring if he burned her, steadying herself between the space of him and Sam where she can pull herself upright. Leaning on them as she pushes forward a step and the words are biting, quick. Ugly things she keeps to herself - but she's promised, promised herself more than anyone, she was done with pretending she was more or less than what she was. ( the words to Ilde, she wasn't a witch, she wasn't an angel, she was just her ). ]
I'm a coward? I'm not the one that jeopardises other people in the middle of missions when they're trying to help them and puts their lives in danger. Oh, you poor thing, you can't handle keeping it to yourself for a minute to help the rest of us who are just trying to survive. Because I will never hurt another member of this hive, which is more than you can say right now.
[ Her fingers curl in sharp and deep on Petre's skin, shaking with it - still bitter, there was a man dead, and it's as much her fault for doing it as it was Parker's for having a fit and catching his attention, to begin with. Or at least as far as Angel was concerned. ]
Do us all a favour, next time you are insisting on playing martyr in this place, and act like the hive is the worst thing that ever happened to you. Don't use the rest of us for your victim complex. Why don't you have some courage the next time you are feeling so put up when we get back to the ship? There's an airlock.
[ Utter, unforgiving. She's a lot of things, but she at least had the guts to follow through on that. ] You can at least save the rest of us cleaning up after you.
cw: ... suicide mention
[ Coward. The word stills her. She's a lot of things, she knows, and something twists in her stomach.
Maybe that's why she's sharp, unforgiving about her. Her weeping and her childish fits about how awful this mental connection was. It was all just so unfair. It seethes so ugly inside of her. Fine, she could think that all she liked, and if it had just been Angel that had suffered for it the bearings alone? Maybe she would keep it to herself.
For one second, she doesn't respond, she clutches tightly to Petre when he comes close. To draw him to her where she needs him most, her hand to his wrist, not caring if he burned her, steadying herself between the space of him and Sam where she can pull herself upright. Leaning on them as she pushes forward a step and the words are biting, quick. Ugly things she keeps to herself - but she's promised, promised herself more than anyone, she was done with pretending she was more or less than what she was. ( the words to Ilde, she wasn't a witch, she wasn't an angel, she was just her ). ]
I'm a coward? I'm not the one that jeopardises other people in the middle of missions when they're trying to help them and puts their lives in danger. Oh, you poor thing, you can't handle keeping it to yourself for a minute to help the rest of us who are just trying to survive. Because I will never hurt another member of this hive, which is more than you can say right now.
[ Her fingers curl in sharp and deep on Petre's skin, shaking with it - still bitter, there was a man dead, and it's as much her fault for doing it as it was Parker's for having a fit and catching his attention, to begin with. Or at least as far as Angel was concerned. ]
Do us all a favour, next time you are insisting on playing martyr in this place, and act like the hive is the worst thing that ever happened to you. Don't use the rest of us for your victim complex. Why don't you have some courage the next time you are feeling so put up when we get back to the ship? There's an airlock.
[ Utter, unforgiving. She's a lot of things, but she at least had the guts to follow through on that. ] You can at least save the rest of us cleaning up after you.