[ be attentive! this is the thing she gets stuck on. ]
like Jay Gatsby or Huckleberry Finn?
you make it sound easy. [ wouldn't it be nice? to train them to fight harder and leave it at that. Lydia and Stiles destroy things with solutions; violence through mathematical equations and strategy. she can do the latter but she'd rather kick things in and get to it at the source. ] i know they can solve their problems but i wouldn't leave them to face each new disaster on their own. i owe them more than that. plus, i care about them. i'll have to find my own way to deal.
like frodo and sherlock holmes, and captain kirk. no word from darth vader yet, but fingers crossed.
honestly allison you're wayyyyy overthinking it. terrible things happen to people all the time. worrying doesn't make people stronger, it makes them afraid. at some point you get up on your own two feet and fight. care about people all you want but are you gonna be able to take on things like that [ the fog ] and worse, if half your head is on trying to find and protect people?
[ she lapses into text silence for a minute, fingers hovering over they keys before slouching back in her chair. ] no penalties that we know of.
but every time he shows up? something totally fucked follows.
i know. i know bad things happen every day. it doesn't make it okay or normal that they do. and i've already tried that. caring less didn't solve any of my problems. my anger was more distracting than my friends ever were. [ she feels weird saying that to anyone and she knows she won't be able to look at Hayley straight (if she says more) but the text makes the words easier, makes them possible. she doesn't share that she's not sure she'd fight as hard if she didn't have a reason; they give her one.
this funk needs to go. ]
so yes but not in so many words. one harbinger of death, dully noted.
not a fanatic. just someone who'd appreciate the force kicking ass and taking names here on the ship. [ but the rest of the text hovers there, and Hayley watches it. weighs it. lets it become something tangible, that she can wrap her hands around. ]
what is it about your anger, allison? why's it so strong?
[ she is js. not that she's picturing Hayley as a Jedi now or anything. n o p e. you can't prove anything. the tone drops, drags heavily and makes noisy streaks across the floor of her mind. she doesn't want to face that. ]
all emotions are strong. [ not true. well, yes and no. there is no right answer, she thinks. but she knows that she's always wanted to be different than other girls - above them. a stand-out. and that means not going weak at the knees or smiling too much, or liking the color pink, or pop stars. or anything artsy. some emotions make you weak. ] but probably because anger can't be confused with anything else once you're there. and it doesn't stop with just one thing, you can keep adding to it. [ until you crash and burn, she would know. ]
i sound crazy. [ not a question, not really. was it ever? ]
you don't. [ it's a game changer, that much is for certain. Hayley isn't sure what this is becoming, what she's dealing with, but there's too much significance in such a thing for it to possibly be overlooked. she leaves it be, an open wound. ]
for what it's worth, crazy is the last thing you sound like.
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text »
[ be attentive! this is the thing she gets stuck on. ]
like Jay Gatsby or Huckleberry Finn?
you make it sound easy. [ wouldn't it be nice? to train them to fight harder and leave it at that. Lydia and Stiles destroy things with solutions; violence through mathematical equations and strategy. she can do the latter but she'd rather kick things in and get to it at the source. ] i know they can solve their problems but i wouldn't leave them to face each new disaster on their own. i owe them more than that. plus, i care about them. i'll have to find my own way to deal.
do his favors have a penalty?
text »
honestly allison you're wayyyyy overthinking it. terrible things happen to people all the time. worrying doesn't make people stronger, it makes them afraid. at some point you get up on your own two feet and fight. care about people all you want but are you gonna be able to take on things like that [ the fog ] and worse, if half your head is on trying to find and protect people?
[ she lapses into text silence for a minute, fingers hovering over they keys before slouching back in her chair. ] no penalties that we know of.
but every time he shows up? something totally fucked follows.
text »
i know. i know bad things happen every day. it doesn't make it okay or normal that they do. and i've already tried that. caring less didn't solve any of my problems. my anger was more distracting than my friends ever were. [ she feels weird saying that to anyone and she knows she won't be able to look at Hayley straight (if she says more) but the text makes the words easier, makes them possible. she doesn't share that she's not sure she'd fight as hard if she didn't have a reason; they give her one.
this funk needs to go. ]
so yes but not in so many words. one harbinger of death, dully noted.
text »
what is it about your anger, allison?
why's it so strong?
text »
[ she is js. not that she's picturing Hayley as a Jedi now or anything. n o p e. you can't prove anything. the tone drops, drags heavily and makes noisy streaks across the floor of her mind. she doesn't want to face that. ]
all emotions are strong. [ not true. well, yes and no. there is no right answer, she thinks. but she knows that she's always wanted to be different than other girls - above them. a stand-out. and that means not going weak at the knees or smiling too much, or liking the color pink, or pop stars. or anything artsy. some emotions make you weak. ] but probably because anger can't be confused with anything else once you're there. and it doesn't stop with just one thing, you can keep adding to it. [ until you crash and burn, she would know. ]
i sound crazy. [ not a question, not really. was it ever? ]
text »
for what it's worth, crazy is the last thing you sound like.
-jedi or sith?