XOqNI

[tongueamok]

Hello, this is Carlisle. I mean, it's not Carlisle as in I'm actually answering you right now, so if you're trying to reply to me at the second, you should probably save your breath because I'm not really here. This is some kind of a recording of my voice, but this is my communicator. I'm going to assume these devices are as common here as they are in other places — not my world, but others, ones more technologically advanced than where I come from— so if you'd like to leave me a message, then you may do so here, or er... Right. Here is fine. So just leave yo— [beep]

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[tongueamok]

It's often hard for us to see our successes through the veil of our failures.

[He'd do well to heed his own advice at times, but it's so much easier to see clearly when he's the one on the other side of the confessional. He wraps his hands around the cup, his fingers a bit stiff as they flex around it. They've been better; they've been worse, too.]

Tell me, do you congratulate yourself for every time she isn't harmed when she's with you? Or for each calamity the false gods would bring upon this city that doesn't see me dead? Do you measure your worth by every person who comes through the clinic seeking aid, and leaves with it? Or by those who use the trinkets we make, sustaining themselves with an invention that wouldn't exist without you?

[dedikated]

( Infinitely easier, like she can yell at people for the same thing, but you should always hold yourself to higher standards than those you hold others to, right? Improvements are born through self-competition.

And maybe the prolonged silence Kate responds with is enough of an answer to those questions. Yes, she does, somewhat. Perhaps no congratulations, but she won't deny that she's spent too much time down here feeling less than useful when she's at the clinic, unable to do anything of note.

But maybe it's not about feeling worthy, but feeling like you're finally making up for the mistakes you've made, the crimes you've committed. )

So what if I do?

[tongueamok]

[He takes a sip as she considers his questions and presents one of his own, lowering the cup before he replies.]

Then perhaps you should hold yourself in higher regard. You do good. It is all around you, and yet, you seem to not see it, taking into account only your failures. Why is that?

[dedikated]

It's not enough.

( Her head hurts enough from last night that Kate doesn't even think about her answer. It's never going to be enough, nothing can really wash away the guilt of previous transgressions or failures, and failing to do better by the people she most cares about - failing Faith and letting her die like she did with Marc - just hammers that home. )

Thought it might've been.

( Months ago, Glacius told her to forgive herself for these things, for everything she did back in The Agency, and she tried. But-

How do you even go about forgiving yourself for deaths and pain caused to others? Can you forgive yourself for acquiescing to instructions that left a sour taste in your mouth for the sake of keeping a job? )

[tongueamok]

[Carlisle would answer those inner questions Kate is having if he had the answers himself. Guilt is a tricky subject for him as it is, as he has lived nearly his entire life mired in it. It comes with the territory of being the failure of one's family line.]

When will it be enough, then? To what lengths would you go to protect those you care for? What lengths should you, or could you go?

[dedikated]

Death.

( The fact that she doesn't even hesitate to say that, even after her death months ago, even after Faith's reaction when she found her at the temple, or Sam's at 2 in the goddamn morning, is probably not a good thing.

She doesn't care. Faith can do more. Marc could have.

But she failed there. )

[tongueamok]

[Somehow, that was the answer he'd expected. Carlisle sighs, sipping at his drink.]

And even then, if we could ask your opinion from beyond the grave, I get the feeling you'd tell me it still wasn't enough. It may will be, but that is something you must accept and forgive yourself for, or you'll never believe you're worthy of anything.

[Spoken as someone who knows from personal experience. His voice softens.]

It takes a toll on you, and I'm sure Faith wouldn't want that.

[dedikated]

( How do you believe that you're worthy of things, when you've spent most of your life thinking that you have one real purpose and failing at that. How do you deal with the pressure you've given yourself and not living up to that?

Kate knows how to live alone, knows not to expect Marc's presence in her mind or his footsteps in the house. She knows how to survive losing him, but she's never really tried to cope with the sense of failure that she tries to ignore. It's been easy to ignore it back home, where life is less dangerous, more political than it used to be. She doesn't fear death in the same way for her friends as she does here.

She hasn't had to experience the death of her friends back home since The Agency fell, and all it does - losing not only a friend, but her best friend, the person closest to her since Marc was killed - is remind her of then, remind her of the ways she never managed to protect Marc, not just in protecting him from death, but all the things before that.

Shouldn't she have figured out how to stop losing people by now? )

Even if we keep making th' same fuckin' mistakes?