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[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]

Last attempt? You mean the mess we just got out of, or something else?

[dedikated]

That one, aye. [ man she is regretting this drinking only water to keep herself sane thing. ]

[tongueamok]

[A pause.]

You... weren't involved in that, were you?

[dedikated]

[ her silence should be more than enough answer for that. the way she hunches in on herself slightly and stares at her feet. ]

Only towards the end. [ her own guilt before the resurrection was bad enough, was enough to make her hide and throw herself into whatever she could possibly do to distract herself or find something that said 'I'm sorry' to the people of this place well enough that she might not feel like shit. but with the added compulsion like an itch she can't reach, the words find their way out somehow. ]

[tongueamok]

Toward the end is when it got worse.

[He cuts back with a scoff immediately, but then his eyes trail to Kate and take in her posture and the silence that had followed his inquiry... and his expression softens just a hair. As someone whose entire life rests upon a foundation of guilt, he knows it when he sees it, and he can't help but feel a modicum of pity for her on that basis alone.

He pushes a sigh from his chest, offering her his flask.]

[dedikated]

[ yeah, fuck it. she'll have some of that, thanks, Carlisle, you're a peach. she hands the flask back after a long drink, resting her elbows on her thighs and leaning forward. her hands run through her hair, nails scratching at her scalp and everything wants to come out right now. everything.

maybe she should just let it. ] Thought I would have learned my lesson by now. [ shit, how many people have to die because of her before she does? ] Any decision I make ends up this way. [ with everything worse than it was before and people dead. that's all she can see right now - agreeing to go into The Agency (ultimately killing Marc for something that still hasn't been fully resolved), the cave in (she was the leader for that mission, she should have got them out sooner and it was only because of Faith that no one died), her decision to abstain from the initial assault on The Agency (coming too late did get Marc killed, her panic meant that he never had a chance to get away), her eventual agreement to help attack The Agency (and the fact that it's still not entirely safe for Superhumans in the UK, seven years after the fact, says everything about how bad the fallout was there). ] Doesn't matter if I try to help or not. Someone always ends up dead. [ maybe all the sceptics at Dagny's training clinic were right, but not because of her hatred of blood. because she is just a monumental fuck up who shouldn't be trusted to run her own life, never mind somewhere as important as a clinic. ]

[tongueamok]

[Carlisle takes his flask back, and after wiping the mouth on the ink-stained bandage that covers his arm, takes another swallow himself. Dwarven ale might not have the best flavor, but the metallic taste is a familiar comfort.]

Have you any way to atone for those deaths? Or are you worried that, through any attempts at atonement, you'll only make things worse?

[dedikated]

[ honestly, it tastes weird, but she can't find it in herself to care about the metallic taste when the burn is familiar enough to ease off some of her feelings.

some of them. ] Tried that. Why do you think I went into clinic work? [ but there's too many of them - from the ones she got killed to the ones that more literally died at her hands - and right now she's not sure she trusts herself to even continue that work. she turns up, but it's more out of habit at the minute, some desperate attempt to stop herself going completely mad down here. someone like her doesn't deserve to be in a position that requires that much trust and responsibility.

maybe she was right. maybe she was meant to grit her teeth and do the things she hated. clearly killing was her only real skill. ] Not sure I'd even deserve the chance. Too many skeletons already.

[tongueamok]

Everyone deserves a chance for redemption, Miss Kate.

[That's said with the tone of someone who wholeheartedly wants to believe it. The fact that such a chance is close to home for him is written across his face, knitted with fine thread into the crease in his brow and the bags under his eyes. He can't say for certain that he's to blame for the deaths of so many others... but he certainly feels that he is. He's been told it enough times to believe it.]

[dedikated]

You think so? [ that gets her to look up and over at him, a brow slightly raised as she takes in that expression - it's awfully similar to the one she felt herself wearing when she visited her aunt and uncle's grave after Marc died. but she won't push it, because god knows that she understands how being pressed to reveal the things you want to keep to yourself feels. ]

[tongueamok]

[He glances her way, catches her eyes watching him, and the corner of his mouth crooks into a nervous smile, his apparent reaction to such things.]

I must, and wholeheartedly. We... all have our demons, after all. Even clergymen.

[dedikated]

[ it's a nice thought, but-

well. ] Guess so. [ although not everyone's comes to life and tries torturing and killing other people. ] Most people's probably aren't so bad. [ see: seriously carlisle your bitching does not come close to this. ]

[tongueamok]

[True. At least Carlisle's vices don't manifest into a monster. It could be worse.]

Perhaps, though I suppose the severity of sin is relative. My point was that everyone deserves at least a chance to make amends. What matters if whether or not one takes that chance.

[dedikated]

How d'you make up for your screw ups? [ that stare she has going on is almost unnervingly intense despite how relaxed her face looks. ]

[tongueamok]

[His eyes meet hers for only a moment before casting themselves away.]

I haven't yet. [He's not sure he really can.]

[dedikated]

[ she's silent for a dragged out minute before finally asking, in a tone that's strangely gentle on her; ]

What were they? [ it's asked in that kind of voice that says you can avoid answering, if you want. ]

[tongueamok]

[It's clear from the look on his face that he's not sure he wants to talk about it; however, as he looks at his flask and takes another swallow, he apparently changes his mind. Whether it's the alcohol, the gods, or just his own guilt pushing him, it's enough that words form in his throat.]

Back home, I exist. I lived when I shouldn't have, and that's been enough to damn my entire family. But- but even here, I have amends I must make to- to people who don't even remember that I owe them. And I don't know whether or not it counts anymore, but I still have to make them. I don't think my conscience will allow me to do otherwise.

[dedikated]

That's shit. [ she says it in the way most people would say 'I'm sorry to hear that.' And, then; ] They don't remember? [ that is strange. Surely most people would remember that, otherwise- ] Might not have been as bad as you think if they've forgot. [ because it's not like this place can mess with people's timelines or anything, Kate. ]

[tongueamok]

[Carlisle's eyes are still lodged somewhere on the floor.]

They don't remember because I suppose it didn't happen to them. Or the thems that are here. Before I was brought to this place, I was already in a world that wasn't my own. Miss Rey was there -- not sure if you know her. Short hair, scars, a pyromancer. Mister Prochainezo, as well. Even an alien much like Glacius. Don't know if you've met any of them here, but I met them in this other world.

[Sigh.] I... wronged them in this other world. And so it is here that I must make amends, as I have no way to go back there.

[dedikated]

[ WELL. That's... new. And confusing. But- ] Met Rey. [ a beat ] And Glacius. [ Which is an understatement, really. Met, battled alongside on several occasions, probably the closest thing she has to a friend here. Yeah. Met sounds about right.

She watches Carlisle as he speaks, pushing her hair off her shoulder as she does. ] Well- [ Hm, there's really only one way she's ever seen to make up for shit. ] What can you do to make it up to them? [ Healing seems like an obvious bet, but-

Hm.

Maybe...? The thought doesn't stick around for too long, though, because it's not like her powers are even working right now anyway. She's not sure she'd trust herself with them if they were. ]

[tongueamok]

I'm not sure there's anything I can do. What I did was grievous—

[Oh, that came out when he didn't want it to. He shuts up, sifting through his words with greater care, his hands fidgeting with the flask.]

The most I can do is try to help them in this world, and hope it is enough to atone for my sins in the eyes of my goddess.

[dedikated]

[ Dude. If she was in a better mood, she'd gesture at herself in response to that. Just broke the murdercave. ]

Then do that. [ Simple as can be, obviously. Her eyes haven't left him yet, still watching his movements until a beat later; ] Why haven't you joined the clinic, anyway? [ That might be a way to begin, if they need healing and he was on duty to help. ]

[tongueamok]

[Even when speaking to one of the people who broke the murdercave, Carlisle thinks of himself and his own actions as worse in some way. He'll figure out one day that all the woes of the universe do not revolve around him.

His eyes flick to her and he stiffens ever so slightly, as though that was a question he'd been hoping he'd never be asked.]

Ah, that... would require me to go to the clinic and deal with, er. People. I've found through my travels that I don't handle strangers terribly well. [Or the unknown. Or anything remotely stressful, really.]

[dedikated]

[ ONE DAY...

The answer gives her brief pause. Okay, that... actually makes sense. Some healers weren't healers if that makes sense - no one would ever ask Faith to go into healing, not because she wasn't good at it, but because she is far better as a figurehead. And some people just don't suit the atmosphere.

Still. She's wondering. Maybe. And that makes her fall silent a lot longer. Could she remember the schematics? Not for the massive thing that left her power exhausted, but the smaller ones - the theoreticals that Dagny discarded because they don't need to waste their powers on something first aid can handle. ]

... Have to learn one day. [ Like she had to learn to not throw up at the sight of blood. ]

[tongueamok]

[As much as Carlisle appreciates moments of silence, that pause of Kate's unsettles him, mostly because he can practically see the gears turning in her head. He's not sure he wants to know exactly what goes on up there, especially when the topic is a subject of discomfort already.

But at least they're not talking about his transgressions anymore. That's an improvement.]

I suppose I will. Either that, or people will likely take it upon themselves to show up at my door with hardly a warning in the hopes of acclimating me to the presence of strangers.

[Kate.]