[ Blows a breath out, catching a long strand of hair in it. ]
Mais, we'll think of something. There has to be some way we can make this work for all of us. For people to stop dying, for the dead to get their peace, for you to get out of this. I have to believe that.
[ Moderately reassuring! And they didn't have to define any more words to get their answer. If it's 'probably' not a physical hazard then it's not the type of concern that they need to prioritise. They nod and beep an acknowledgment. ]
I mean, aside from my oath, it's like. Circle of life shit. I'm only where I am because of a whole bunch of dead people I never got to meet trying to make shit better for me. Not just my family, but my fencing teacher's teachers, people who came before my in my faith, everyone else. I owe them.
You mean the shades here that include my friends? People I cared about? Those shades? Fuck- with how long you've been doing this, there's every chance you've had every member of my family here individually. That's just statistics.
[ Eyeroll. He sure is good at proving her right. He doesn't care about anyone if it doesn't benefit him. ]
I know what I owe them. You're not convincing me otherwise dude.
[ No parting barb as she drops back down off the roof. She's more than had her fill of him and his cold smug superiority. Same as it has always been. ]
[There's that 'built' again. Built. Not unlike Frankenstein's monster. Built for a purpose. Given a spark at least, if not a soul. Built. Frankenstein's monster...had been pieced together from corpses. But the spark was artificial. Magic not science...alchemy?]
What were you built from, Friday?
[And what kind of creatures can be built by those who are not gods?]
It is late enough on the evening of the wedding that it could be called morning, and Johnny has slipped out of John's with a plate of desserts and a champagne flute, heading to the service desk.
(Look. Look, he hasn't entirely kicked the habit of calling her 'the faceless dame', but he also noted her absence tonight...)
At the front desk, a gray hand slams on the bell like three times. Karkat glares up at Gal Friday, with Nepeta behind him.
“HELLO! FACELESS LADY!” he shouts, gesticulating broadly.
“I HAVE HAD IT TO HERE WITH THIS GODAWFUL CRUISE. AND MY FRIEND OVER HERE ISN’T EXACTLY IMPRESSED WITH THIS WHOLE MAGICAL GETAWAY CHARADE EITHER. WHERE’S THE CAPTAIN HERE? THE BINDER SAYS THERE’S APPARENTLY A FUCKING CAPTAIN, BUT I HAVEN’T SEEN THAT DOUCHEGRENADE ANYWHERE. I HAVE SOME FUCKING WORDS FOR HIM!”
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