[He listens to her quietly and attentively, and nods when she finishes. He's a little surprised to find that he knows how she feels; Angel hadn't been to him what Timothy had been to Lust, but there are some parallels.]
I had friends on Pandora but not like her. Always smiling always thoughtful always warm, never violent, never angry, never rough. She held my hand and looked me in the eye and laughed with no fear! She knew what I was and what I am and she didn't care!
[There's a lot more to unpack here than he's capable of talking about at this time. The words don't come easily, and his throat tightens painfully around them the longer he goes on, so he stops. Drops his gaze away from the video, away from Lust. Swallows. Fidgets. Pulls himself back together. He's felt like he was falling apart ever since November, ever since Angel's Siren powers literally ripped him apart, and she couldn't bring herself to face him. Dragging himself back from the edge, clinging tightly to whatever fragments he can until they start to slot back into place (or at least stop threatening to disperse completely) hasn't gotten any easier with practice.]
I have three of hers, now. They loved her, too.
[He finally raises his gaze again, and returns it to look at Lust.]
The purple cat took good care of Timothy Lawrence.
[The little purple cat loved Tim, too. So it stands to reason it's good company for Lust, just as Angel's three are, somehow, helping Krieg hold together.]
It just doesn't feel fair, when those so much more deserving are taken from this place.
It's a trite cliche, but at least we can look back on the time we had and know what it meant. To know we loved and were loved, in whatever ways those we've lost loved us.
It's why I take so many pictures. You can't forget a photograph, it's always there.
[And she has so many photographs now. Albums and albums filled with them.]
She did. Her name is May. She and Henry and the three kittens are all with me now.
no subject
I had friends on Pandora but not like her. Always smiling always thoughtful always warm, never violent, never angry, never rough. She held my hand and looked me in the eye and laughed with no fear! She knew what I was and what I am and she didn't care!
[There's a lot more to unpack here than he's capable of talking about at this time. The words don't come easily, and his throat tightens painfully around them the longer he goes on, so he stops. Drops his gaze away from the video, away from Lust. Swallows. Fidgets. Pulls himself back together. He's felt like he was falling apart ever since November, ever since Angel's Siren powers literally ripped him apart, and she couldn't bring herself to face him. Dragging himself back from the edge, clinging tightly to whatever fragments he can until they start to slot back into place (or at least stop threatening to disperse completely) hasn't gotten any easier with practice.]
I have three of hers, now. They loved her, too.
[He finally raises his gaze again, and returns it to look at Lust.]
The purple cat took good care of Timothy Lawrence.
[The little purple cat loved Tim, too. So it stands to reason it's good company for Lust, just as Angel's three are, somehow, helping Krieg hold together.]
no subject
It's a trite cliche, but at least we can look back on the time we had and know what it meant. To know we loved and were loved, in whatever ways those we've lost loved us.
It's why I take so many pictures. You can't forget a photograph, it's always there.
[And she has so many photographs now. Albums and albums filled with them.]
She did. Her name is May. She and Henry and the three kittens are all with me now.