( the vehemence in misato's response hits home, each barbed word grating against clarke so abruptly she physically turns to blink at the other woman through their disguises. that surprise sours, however; that response answered none of her mundane questions, and allowed no easy segue into the meat of this casual interrogation. but misato all but dares her to press deeper, and clarke narrows her eyes. grinds her teeth for a moment. )
(Do you trust him?)
( flatly thought. the real question is — is he trustworthy? because on some unwanted level, she knows him well. the first time they spoke kaji peeled layers of himself away to expose the ease with which he lied; the ease with which he concealed himself, and it had left a terrible taste in the back of her throat. clarke doesn't ask is he dangerous, because she's asked herself that question several times over and found the answer to be no.
but then what was he? ( what are you, not who are you. )
no subject
( Do you trust him? )
( flatly thought. the real question is — is he trustworthy? because on some unwanted level, she knows him well. the first time they spoke kaji peeled layers of himself away to expose the ease with which he lied; the ease with which he concealed himself, and it had left a terrible taste in the back of her throat. clarke doesn't ask is he dangerous, because she's asked herself that question several times over and found the answer to be no.
but then what was he? ( what are you, not who are you. )
shed some light, misato. )