[Lobelia's grip remains, too firm, but not intentionally so. He forces himself to breathe, to quiet the spike of anger rolling under his ribs. None of it is for Hansa.]
She did this, you say it so simply... as if I am meant to swallow that and move on. You are not fine. Not when you have been injured by her hand.
[His eyes flick to the damaged shoulder, then the eye, trying to measure what was taken and what was given. He can't see everything, and that makes it worse.]
If you wished to spare me worry, you should not have come to me looking like this. But since you have... you will tell me what she did. All of it.
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She did this, you say it so simply... as if I am meant to swallow that and move on. You are not fine. Not when you have been injured by her hand.
[His eyes flick to the damaged shoulder, then the eye, trying to measure what was taken and what was given. He can't see everything, and that makes it worse.]
If you wished to spare me worry, you should not have come to me looking like this. But since you have... you will tell me what she did. All of it.
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[...]
No, you're right, Lobelia. I'm not fine.
[He won't hide that away. Even he knows how it hurts, to just lay down in a corner and try to deny it all.]
Sure. I will. I think talking with her made me realize some things. [A pause.] You and the others...you met her, didn't you? Before our crew came in.
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Lobelia smiles.]
...Oui. She was even kind enough to grant a wish for me... but it's come at quite the cost, hasn't it?
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Tell me. [His voice is quiet.] Tell me what wish she granted.
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To be happy. Because I deserve to be.
[Lobelia's smile widens. It doesn't reach his eyes.]
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[He does.]
Are you happy, Lobelia?
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[To let that be that last thing he felt?]
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And if those who made that happiness possible lose their lives for it... can you call that a fair exchange?
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[He thinks he sees now, smiling bittersweetly.]
You care so much that you can't bear to lose it all. Such is the nature of being human.
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[He stares at Hansa, bemused.]
Most people would be angry.
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[Such IS the nature of being human.]
Should I be angry?
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I "should" be angry. I "should" be this. "Should" be that.
[He laughs, but its not a happy one - actually, he IS pissed off, but not because of that, it's because-]
You're so damn arrogant. God detests the arrogant heart. Don't tell me what I "should" feel, actually. Shut up, and let me care.
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Arrogant? Très bien. I'll wear it proudly so long as it keeps you so brutally honest.
Go on then. Care, if you insist. I won't tell you otherwise.
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[He wants to shake him. He wants to throw him like a javelin. Terrible, stupid, Lobelia.]
[He closes his crystalline eye, pained.]
I'm just.....tired. I'm tired.
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Tired? You have every right to be. I'm not telling you what to feel, Hansa. I just— forget, sometimes, that you feel anything for me at all.
[And Hansa isn't the only one. The more people care, the heavier the burden.]
Spare some compassion for yourself. Wear yourself down to nothing and the people who care for you will suffer. You know that.