[Automatic, but something quieter, like all the anger's just covering over the fact she's tired. Getting other people's memories, knowing her own are being pulled out and displayed, trying to think it all through, people coming and talking to her about it - this is more exhausting than a physical drill, than three days marching through rough terrain.
At least then she might have had something to hit at the end of it.]
Just forget about it, Scott. All of it. [Whatever he'd seen from her, the fact she'd seen anything from him. She wasn't going to tell anyone, either.] I know how to keep my mouth shut.
[ scott would rather talk it out, obviously. he wouldn't have called if he didn't. but it's even more obvious that she doesn't want to, and the least he can do is respect that, all things considered.
there's a brief pause while he considers commenting on that last part — he knows she does, knows it from being in her head, seeing the training. he doesn't; it'd be the opposite of helpful when she doesn't want that kind of understanding. ] So do I.
[ which isn't to say he'll necessarily be great about forgetting it. that's not how he works. but he knows she hated that pity in the elevator, and he's kept it under control before, never let it muddy the waters between him and isaac — he can manage it here. ]
[There's a moment of silence, almost as if she's going to hang up, but then she speaks again.]
I know.
[It's a concession, an acknowledgement of what she's seen without actually talking about any of it. The things he's been through and what he's learnt from them, the strength that's grown in him. She isn't writing him off as stupid or weak; hadn't made any assumptions on him from their previous encounter, only that he'd made her angry at the time, nothing she'd held onto. None of this is on him either. She doesn't want to talk about it with anyone, doesn't want it happening at all, and he makes no difference on that.]
voice; idk if you can wrangle more chattiness from her, if not we can wrap here & eyeball new things
[ it might not seem like much, but it's more than enough of a concession for scott. whether it's the usual empathy at work or the results of the link, it's easy to read into the meaning behind the simple response. it's bizarrely comforting, if anything.
he'd called her wanting to talk it out, but that concession makes it clear that it's not the details that he was aiming for. it was a need to explain himself, whatever she saw. it's an insecure impulse, at worst, but she's laid rest to it in a few calm words. ]
Thanks.
[ his tone is respectful and genuinely grateful, but there's a note of light relief in it. ]
[She almost snaps it, don't thank me, but stops herself. Truth is she has no idea what he's thanking her for, except maybe just the already mentioned fact she isn't going to share anything she's seen from him with anyone - which still seems like a basic, to her, nothing that needs gratitude.
In the end she doesn't know what to say, isn't sure there is anything more to say (except straying into talking about the memories, and she avoids that vehemently). It means the feed is a long moment of confused silence, and then she just hangs up.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
voice;
[Automatic, but something quieter, like all the anger's just covering over the fact she's tired. Getting other people's memories, knowing her own are being pulled out and displayed, trying to think it all through, people coming and talking to her about it - this is more exhausting than a physical drill, than three days marching through rough terrain.
At least then she might have had something to hit at the end of it.]
Just forget about it, Scott. All of it. [Whatever he'd seen from her, the fact she'd seen anything from him. She wasn't going to tell anyone, either.] I know how to keep my mouth shut.
voice;
there's a brief pause while he considers commenting on that last part — he knows she does, knows it from being in her head, seeing the training. he doesn't; it'd be the opposite of helpful when she doesn't want that kind of understanding. ] So do I.
[ which isn't to say he'll necessarily be great about forgetting it. that's not how he works. but he knows she hated that pity in the elevator, and he's kept it under control before, never let it muddy the waters between him and isaac — he can manage it here. ]
voice;
I know.
[It's a concession, an acknowledgement of what she's seen without actually talking about any of it. The things he's been through and what he's learnt from them, the strength that's grown in him. She isn't writing him off as stupid or weak; hadn't made any assumptions on him from their previous encounter, only that he'd made her angry at the time, nothing she'd held onto. None of this is on him either. She doesn't want to talk about it with anyone, doesn't want it happening at all, and he makes no difference on that.]
voice; idk if you can wrangle more chattiness from her, if not we can wrap here & eyeball new things
he'd called her wanting to talk it out, but that concession makes it clear that it's not the details that he was aiming for. it was a need to explain himself, whatever she saw. it's an insecure impulse, at worst, but she's laid rest to it in a few calm words. ]
Thanks.
[ his tone is respectful and genuinely grateful, but there's a note of light relief in it. ]
voice; I tried but nope :c
In the end she doesn't know what to say, isn't sure there is anything more to say (except straying into talking about the memories, and she avoids that vehemently). It means the feed is a long moment of confused silence, and then she just hangs up.]