He nods to her. No, it's never safe. He's doing it right now because, to him? The risk is worth the reward. She can see him, see how he has to shove these truths out of him, how they tear at his throat a little on the way out.
It's no different from what he'd done for Jacobi on their first mission. Warren Kepler gives faith well before he even hopes for it, and never demands it. If he hasn't earned it, he doesn't deserve it.
"He knows now," because someone had left out his reality litmus notebook where Jacobi could check it and that meant that sooner or later, Jacobi had. Because he'd told Jacobi and proved it to Jacobi in an all out assault on his anxieties that he thinks has finally proven superior to the man's ability to doubt people's love.
"And I have. Because I failed our team. His anger? Came from his loyalty. Not disloyalty. I mourn that he believed that. But a part of me is fiercely proud of him. Glad that what we have means that much to him."
His head lifts a little.
"The one whose betrayal I'll never forgive? That's... someone else."
It stings, hearing that despite their shared understanding of betrayal, the
person Warren loved actually deserved it. Ulla stifles her reaction
in favor of moving on to the last thing he says. There's no use venting
her feelings anyway.
"Do you want to tell me about it? Or should I just listen to the file?"
Because she assumes that piece of information will be in there.
Ulla doesn't shy away from his anger. She's used to carrying her own.
Rage is an old friend by now. "In that case, is there any context I should
have before I listen?"
"Marcus Cutter is only the latest of his names. He's lived half a dozen lives. Under half a dozen names. He'd been augmented. By technology, in his case. To live longer. And be harder to kill. But even that? Was... imperfect.
"Not that it excuses anything he did. In some ways, it makes it worse."
Ulla nods. She isn't surprised that humans, with their short lives, might
try to find ways to extend them. "I wouldn't take it as an excuse," she
tells Warren.
"I'm sure she gave you ample reason for that," Ulla assumes. He doesn't
seem like the sort of person who holds grudges without strong motivation
behind them.
"She's the kind of person who decides that... when she has free time? She'll design a machine that can control people's minds and eventually entirely destroy who they are, leaving a shell of an automaton. Just... figured she should get that done, apparently."
Yeah, Warren wants to rip her to pieces. The fact that she lived? That she was pointedly spared? Makes his blood boil.
Her eyes widen. Ulla can do a great many things with her magic, but that
isn't one she's ever thought to attempt. It's a chilling thought, that it
could be done without magic.
It seems like a good time to hear his file. "Will you show me how to
listen to it?" she asks.
Yeah, he nods to the eye-widening. Because that's about how strongly he feels about it. But he'll gesture to the mp3 player and reaches over to pick it up.
"The headphones, here, they go over your ears. And the machine itself? You click this bit here to make it play, this part to make it stop. These two let you go backwards or forwards. Want to give it a shot?"
Ulla nods, accepting the mp3 player and sliding the headphones on. It's simple enough, once he's shown her which buttons to use. She'll listen quietly, with only small flickers of expression by way of reaction. It's hard to hear how perfectly the trio fits together, when her own fell apart so badly.
Finally, she removes the headphones and tells him, "I can see why you won't forgive Cutter or Pryce."
One bit stuck out at her as she was listening. "Jacobi said, 'He knows
potential when he sees it. And he knows how to push.'" It isn't quite a
question, but it takes her a second to form one of those.
"Is that how you're looking at me?" Her potential has only ever been
accepted grudgingly before; it grates on her, the idea of acceptance coming
so easily now when it never has before. And she isn't sure how she feels
about being pushed.
"In a sense, yes. But not the way that your potential was considered before."
He spreads his hands towards her.
"In that case, with Jacobi? My job... was to help excellence bloom. Find and help people who were the best in their field? When they were being held back by the same kind of things that held you back: politics, in the office or more wide spread. Social standing. Financial needs. Domestic difficulties.
"Both Jacobi and Maxwell? Have had those in their pasts. I can't change that when I look at someone? I look at their full potential. And people like you? Well. They're more important to me than people like Roffe. Or Signy. People who had every chance? And decided on being terrible. or mediocre."
He folds his hands.
"That isn't my job for you. My job... is to help you graduate. And I certainly see the potential for that in you as well. Which... I might have to push at times. But it's not something I consider... lightly."
He tilts his head as he meets her eyes again.
"Like I told you: I read your file. And I saw how little control you had. In several aspects. Which is why, if or when I push? It would be something we discussed. And as for your potential? Musically and magically? If you want me to do what I do in that respect? You would have to ask. Or make it clear that that? Is something you want. What I want? Is to see you alive. happy. and content. Do I believe you'll do better work that way? Absolutely. Would I love to see it? Yes, because that is, I think, the best thing a person can do. Help people reach their potential. But this, us, this pairing? isn't bout what I want. And it never will be unless you decide it's what you want."
A part of her hates him for all of it. For being able to picture a future
where she's happy. For stripping away any illusions she's tried to project
that she was in control of her own fate. For saying that he gives a damn
about what she wants.
She bites into a piece of melon to give herself something to do besides
meet his eyes. To spare her from answering him immediately, when she knows
it would just come out angry and bitter. Or it could come out bitter
anyway. She swallows the fruit but not her rage.
"Nothing is ever entirely about what anyone else wants." People are
selfish, and he's getting something out of this too. In some ways, that's
easier to accept. It's a motivation she can understand in a way pure
altruism wouldn't be. But it also means he has motivation to push her, if
he decides later that it would help.
He’d be the first to say that she was in control of her own fate. But even the best aren’t in control of all the factors around it.
“That depends on how you define it. It can be entirely about what you want. And partially about what I want. The fact that I get a deal out of this is not something I thought I needed to cover. But we can.
“I won’t pretend it isn’t important to me. Or that I see it as fair compensation. Or that I’m not aware? Some part of you hates my deal. Hates that I can even dream of being whole again.”
He puts his hands in his pockets.
“But if I’m right… and… Jacobi will tell you. I’m annoyingly good at being right, I won’t get that? Until you’re in a place where you can dream of it too.”
He dips his head towards her.
“However mad at me, and… everything. That’s going to make you right now.” A pause. “And to be clear? I? Don’t begrudge you one. Ounce. Of your anger. Towards me? Or anyone.”
"It isn't the deal that makes me angry." Except for the reason he said.
That a bitter part of her loathes the idea of anyone else getting to feel
whole.
No. That he gets something out of this makes sense. Ulla has been getting
by on deals since that night in Sondermane. She's used to everything being
a trade. It's the most comfortable thing about this arrangement, in some
ways.
But she's furious at the idea that anyone could care what she wants. Deeply
distrusts anyone treating her well. Hates the insistent tug of the first
inklings of affection, when she doesn't want to feel anything of the sort.
And she especially loathes how easily he can imagine her ever being
whole again.
Ulla isn't sure how to say any of that. She isn't sure she wants to.
He nods. And then he sighs, just a little. But a wry smile is curled on his lips.
"That's the thing about... full disclosure. Sure, I have to tell you what I'm thinking when it's convenient. When you want to know about it. But... I also can't play it cool. I can't pretend I don't care about you. And that probably pisses you off too. After what you've been through?"
He snorts.
"How the hell dare me? Don't worry- I get it. I do. After you've done nothing but claw yourself up? Then someone- someone reaches out a hand?" He shakes his head. "But I can't do that. Because I? Handed you my file. And that means? You know exactly what I'm willing to do to myself for people like you. On a personal level? And a more widespread one.
"And if I tried to lie... not only would it be a lie? When I said 'full disclosure'. But. I'd be enforcing the idea that there's something wrong with you. That you don't deserve that kind of regard." A sigh. "When you absolutely do. So what can I do?"
A glance at her.
"Which is a guess. But. It's up to you what you do with it. Confirm or deny or... ignore."
"I'm not," he says, and despite the words, he says them gently. As if he wishes it didn't have to be that way? But he accepts it. He lets out a breath.
"How about... I give you a little time to cool off. Think things through. Sort through whatever you need to sort through. You can take that machine, like I said: there's actually music on it, which you're welcome to listen to if you want? And we'll go into how you can do that yourself next time: a nice, neutral activity. We'll meet back up when you feel like it. Sound good?"
"I don't think I'm likely to stop being angry any time in the near future."
she warns him. She has a seemingly bottomless well of rage in the pit of
her stomach, clawing away at her. If she's being honest, she can't imagine
it ever fading. Going away for a little while isn't going to change that.
There's only so much sorting through that she expects to manage.
"I'll go. I'll see you for a guitar lesson soon?" Music still takes
priority.
"No, I don't expect you will. But. I threw a lot at you. You deserve a little time to digest. 'Cool off' in the sense of resting. Not... anything else." He offers her a lopsided smile. "I never really stop being angry either. Once it gets deep enough in you, it stays. In one form or another."
He won't go into the forms.
"I'll see you for guitar lessons. Of course. That doesn't change."
She nods. That's how it feels. Like her anger is here to stay.
Ulla takes another couple pieces of fruit before she rises to leave. "See
you then."
And she's off to her own cabin, resisting the urge to transform back to her
usual form, to be weightless underwater. She takes the the MP3 player with
her, not planning to wait for instructions to figure out how to make it
play music. That will keep her occupied for awhile.
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no subject
It's no different from what he'd done for Jacobi on their first mission. Warren Kepler gives faith well before he even hopes for it, and never demands it. If he hasn't earned it, he doesn't deserve it.
"He knows now," because someone had left out his reality litmus notebook where Jacobi could check it and that meant that sooner or later, Jacobi had. Because he'd told Jacobi and proved it to Jacobi in an all out assault on his anxieties that he thinks has finally proven superior to the man's ability to doubt people's love.
"And I have. Because I failed our team. His anger? Came from his loyalty. Not disloyalty. I mourn that he believed that. But a part of me is fiercely proud of him. Glad that what we have means that much to him."
His head lifts a little.
"The one whose betrayal I'll never forgive? That's... someone else."
no subject
It stings, hearing that despite their shared understanding of betrayal, the person Warren loved actually deserved it. Ulla stifles her reaction in favor of moving on to the last thing he says. There's no use venting her feelings anyway.
"Do you want to tell me about it? Or should I just listen to the file?" Because she assumes that piece of information will be in there.
no subject
His eyes now are a very different thing, sharp and hard, a side to him, a (contained) rage that has no soft side, no forgiveness.
no subject
Ulla doesn't shy away from his anger. She's used to carrying her own. Rage is an old friend by now. "In that case, is there any context I should have before I listen?"
no subject
"Marcus Cutter is only the latest of his names. He's lived half a dozen lives. Under half a dozen names. He'd been augmented. By technology, in his case. To live longer. And be harder to kill. But even that? Was... imperfect.
"Not that it excuses anything he did. In some ways, it makes it worse."
no subject
Ulla nods. She isn't surprised that humans, with their short lives, might try to find ways to extend them. "I wouldn't take it as an excuse," she tells Warren.
no subject
"I wouldn't think you would.
"But that's what he was after. For him? And his own partner, a woman named Pryce. Who I... don't. like. very much."
She took a year of his life away. She took a year with his grandfather from him. As a warning.
He thinks he could manage if Cutter showed up. He'd keep himself firmly out of it and let Jacobi do whatever Jacobi wanted to do.
But Pryce? Or hell, Young?
If it weren't for Ulla? He'd get demoted over them.
no subject
"I'm sure she gave you ample reason for that," Ulla assumes. He doesn't seem like the sort of person who holds grudges without strong motivation behind them.
no subject
Yeah, Warren wants to rip her to pieces. The fact that she lived? That she was pointedly spared? Makes his blood boil.
"But... you'll get that in the file."
no subject
Her eyes widen. Ulla can do a great many things with her magic, but that isn't one she's ever thought to attempt. It's a chilling thought, that it could be done without magic.
It seems like a good time to hear his file. "Will you show me how to listen to it?" she asks.
no subject
"The headphones, here, they go over your ears. And the machine itself? You click this bit here to make it play, this part to make it stop. These two let you go backwards or forwards. Want to give it a shot?"
He'll hold it out to her.
no subject
Finally, she removes the headphones and tells him, "I can see why you won't forgive Cutter or Pryce."
no subject
"Did you have any questions?"
no subject
One bit stuck out at her as she was listening. "Jacobi said, 'He knows potential when he sees it. And he knows how to push.'" It isn't quite a question, but it takes her a second to form one of those.
"Is that how you're looking at me?" Her potential has only ever been accepted grudgingly before; it grates on her, the idea of acceptance coming so easily now when it never has before. And she isn't sure how she feels about being pushed.
no subject
He spreads his hands towards her.
"In that case, with Jacobi? My job... was to help excellence bloom. Find and help people who were the best in their field? When they were being held back by the same kind of things that held you back: politics, in the office or more wide spread. Social standing. Financial needs. Domestic difficulties.
"Both Jacobi and Maxwell? Have had those in their pasts. I can't change that when I look at someone? I look at their full potential. And people like you? Well. They're more important to me than people like Roffe. Or Signy. People who had every chance? And decided on being terrible. or mediocre."
He folds his hands.
"That isn't my job for you. My job... is to help you graduate. And I certainly see the potential for that in you as well. Which... I might have to push at times. But it's not something I consider... lightly."
He tilts his head as he meets her eyes again.
"Like I told you: I read your file. And I saw how little control you had. In several aspects. Which is why, if or when I push? It would be something we discussed. And as for your potential? Musically and magically? If you want me to do what I do in that respect? You would have to ask. Or make it clear that that? Is something you want. What I want? Is to see you alive. happy. and content. Do I believe you'll do better work that way? Absolutely. Would I love to see it? Yes, because that is, I think, the best thing a person can do. Help people reach their potential. But this, us, this pairing? isn't bout what I want. And it never will be unless you decide it's what you want."
no subject
A part of her hates him for all of it. For being able to picture a future where she's happy. For stripping away any illusions she's tried to project that she was in control of her own fate. For saying that he gives a damn about what she wants.
She bites into a piece of melon to give herself something to do besides meet his eyes. To spare her from answering him immediately, when she knows it would just come out angry and bitter. Or it could come out bitter anyway. She swallows the fruit but not her rage.
"Nothing is ever entirely about what anyone else wants." People are selfish, and he's getting something out of this too. In some ways, that's easier to accept. It's a motivation she can understand in a way pure altruism wouldn't be. But it also means he has motivation to push her, if he decides later that it would help.
no subject
“That depends on how you define it. It can be entirely about what you want. And partially about what I want. The fact that I get a deal out of this is not something I thought I needed to cover. But we can.
“I won’t pretend it isn’t important to me. Or that I see it as fair compensation. Or that I’m not aware? Some part of you hates my deal. Hates that I can even dream of being whole again.”
He puts his hands in his pockets.
“But if I’m right… and… Jacobi will tell you. I’m annoyingly good at being right, I won’t get that? Until you’re in a place where you can dream of it too.”
He dips his head towards her.
“However mad at me, and… everything. That’s going to make you right now.” A pause. “And to be clear? I? Don’t begrudge you one. Ounce. Of your anger. Towards me? Or anyone.”
no subject
"It isn't the deal that makes me angry." Except for the reason he said. That a bitter part of her loathes the idea of anyone else getting to feel whole.
No. That he gets something out of this makes sense. Ulla has been getting by on deals since that night in Sondermane. She's used to everything being a trade. It's the most comfortable thing about this arrangement, in some ways.
But she's furious at the idea that anyone could care what she wants. Deeply distrusts anyone treating her well. Hates the insistent tug of the first inklings of affection, when she doesn't want to feel anything of the sort. And she especially loathes how easily he can imagine her ever being whole again.
Ulla isn't sure how to say any of that. She isn't sure she wants to.
no subject
"That's the thing about... full disclosure. Sure, I have to tell you what I'm thinking when it's convenient. When you want to know about it. But... I also can't play it cool. I can't pretend I don't care about you. And that probably pisses you off too. After what you've been through?"
He snorts.
"How the hell dare me? Don't worry- I get it. I do. After you've done nothing but claw yourself up? Then someone- someone reaches out a hand?" He shakes his head. "But I can't do that. Because I? Handed you my file. And that means? You know exactly what I'm willing to do to myself for people like you. On a personal level? And a more widespread one.
"And if I tried to lie... not only would it be a lie? When I said 'full disclosure'. But. I'd be enforcing the idea that there's something wrong with you. That you don't deserve that kind of regard." A sigh. "When you absolutely do. So what can I do?"
A glance at her.
"Which is a guess. But. It's up to you what you do with it. Confirm or deny or... ignore."
no subject
Her eyes narrow. How dare he, indeed. How dare he say things that she can't bring herself to believe as if they're an inevitable truth.
"You aren't wrong," she admits grudgingly.
no subject
"How about... I give you a little time to cool off. Think things through. Sort through whatever you need to sort through. You can take that machine, like I said: there's actually music on it, which you're welcome to listen to if you want? And we'll go into how you can do that yourself next time: a nice, neutral activity. We'll meet back up when you feel like it. Sound good?"
no subject
"I don't think I'm likely to stop being angry any time in the near future." she warns him. She has a seemingly bottomless well of rage in the pit of her stomach, clawing away at her. If she's being honest, she can't imagine it ever fading. Going away for a little while isn't going to change that. There's only so much sorting through that she expects to manage.
"I'll go. I'll see you for a guitar lesson soon?" Music still takes priority.
no subject
"No, I don't expect you will. But. I threw a lot at you. You deserve a little time to digest. 'Cool off' in the sense of resting. Not... anything else." He offers her a lopsided smile. "I never really stop being angry either. Once it gets deep enough in you, it stays. In one form or another."
He won't go into the forms.
"I'll see you for guitar lessons. Of course. That doesn't change."
no subject
She nods. That's how it feels. Like her anger is here to stay.
Ulla takes another couple pieces of fruit before she rises to leave. "See you then."
And she's off to her own cabin, resisting the urge to transform back to her usual form, to be weightless underwater. She takes the the MP3 player with her, not planning to wait for instructions to figure out how to make it play music. That will keep her occupied for awhile.