infomodder | IC contact [Mask or Menace]

[The lack of judgement is what she was hoping for, and it's surprisingly refreshing after Skye and Lydia's reactions. She knows that Jesse wouldn't judge her either, but that's because Jesse already knows the type of person she is. It's why he hired her.

Which means Will's kind of hit the nail right on the head, except Kara didn't quite realize that's what the problem was.]

Oh.

[It's a considering oh, mostly to herself as she looks through to the clearing. She moves past him easily, the takes a second to peer up at the sky, glad to be away from the city lights so she can pick out familiar stars.]

Nice spot.

[She hasn't dropped the subject of her killing people, she's just taking a break from it for a second, while they get settled.]

Edited (no one saw that) 2014-09-04 01:11 (UTC)

[An Oh he recognizes easily and lets it go, gives her some time and space while his dog finds a small patch of mud and proceeds to take great interest in it. Will carefully puts that bag next to that one boulder, taking out two glasses that are totally not meant for shots. But they're not doing shots, so he doesn't see a reason to stand on pretense.]

Found it when we first got here. [There's some cheap stuff in the bag, too, but it's not what he's going for. Kara brought something, but he'll go ahead and pour one glass, offer it after he offers a bit more. A bit more from his own mouth, not from Freddie Lounds or what he'd put in public. There's an ease to the confession that he never would have found had it not been for the knowledge he was released and Freddie being the one to slam it down without warning. People who didn't take her seriously were a breed he didn't like being able to understand.] Found all the little hidey places like it I could. Ever go home, I'm headed to a small, single room with bars. Probably in the basement. Taking advantage of freedom to move about outside while I can.

[He looks up, nonchalant—does he go ahead and pour for her, too, does she take the one that's ready, or...?]

[She'll take the glass he first offers her, sniffing the whiskey without tasting it just yet, because she's more interested in what he has to say. There's a small part of her that wonders if Jesse really is right about Will, but it just doesn't fit.]

Thought you were one of the good guys.

[It's a question without being a question, casual enough that he could easily brush it away if he doesn't feel like answering.

She even takes a sip of the drink, like she isn't that invested in his answer, like it doesn't matter.]

[The way his face changes, the nod, the eyebrows, the smile it fades into—so did he, he thought that, too, thought everyone knew as much, and they apparently did not. It's bitter, it's so so bitter, a taste that hits the tongue and is immediately spat back out. Intolerable, but perhaps not surprising when someone's been around him long enough to pick up that he seems more capable of negative emotions than positive one. Even as he pours himself a nice glass of the good stuff.]

So did I. Thought everyone knew it. Little different, not right, but not so off I'd... [He waves the glass, pulls a face, sits on the ground like he belongs there. Just dirt and grass and stars and sky, this is the sort of simplicity he can revel in.] ...go that far. [How far, though? That's not something to throw out (or throw up), right off the bat.] But I'd totally beat the shit out of someone who tried to attack me and if it came down to one or the other...

[He'd stop him, too. He's not really a hero outside of roles he fills, but even if he was—hero does not mean martyr. Hero does not mean sacrifice at the drop of a hat that means absolutely nothing in the end. Hero does not mean total fucking idiot, and he can drink to that.]

...don't gotta be a monster or a hero to want to keep from being turned into a corpse.

[She watches his expression change, watches him sit down and takes a seat nearby, not quote crowding but close enough that she can watch him.

She still doesn't think Jesse is right. From the way Will's talking and the bitterness in his voice, it seems like he's behind bars for something he didn't even do.]

Wasn't even gonna beat the shit out of him, just kill him.

[Since they're apparently getting back on topic. And there is a difference to her; she's strong and fast enough to kill someone quickly, and she meant what she said to Lydia. She isn't a sadist, she doesn't need to hurt someone more than necessary, she just needs to survive.]

And I don't think you ain't right.

[Trying to. be comforting. At least a little. Will's kind of weird, but she knows people who aren't right, and he doesn't seem like one of them.]

[The attempt at comfort ends up absorbed, same as everything else, sponge that can't keep itself together...at least, when physically sick. He's not sure how to approach that, how to go about it in a way that doesn't come across as degrading to the both of them, so he props his elbows up on his knees, that glass dangling between them as he swirls it a bit.

Curiously:]

So...somebody caught you? Stopped you? Took him out before you could make your move or...how'd this come out where anybody got a hold of it?

[Because really, shield maiden. He's sure if she wanted to drop a fucker without anyone knowing, she would have. That this would have not ever come up had it not been for a witness. Someone who probably didn't get it.]

Ran into us might be more accurate.

[Maybe that's just her pride talking, but she doesn't want to say that Lydia caught her.]

She talked me outta it. Didn't want to kill anyone in front of a kid.

[Not that Lydia is entirely a kid, but she is to someone who's as old as Kara is.]

[More accurate has him nodding, looking down, face hidden for it as toes a moss-covered rock over for a tangible excuse to keep it just that. Yes, make it obvious he knows she can handle herself but give a pinch to the pride, being caught—well done, Will.

It takes a moment before he asks, trying to keep his tone as neutral as possible.]

Why's her being a kid matter so much?

[He's unfortunately well-acquainted with children who kill. Kids killing kids isn't something he's been able to avoid in his work. His own views on childhood and how society treats children can be a warped, screaming mess at the best of times. But this isn't judgment (oh you thinking kids aren't as fucked up as adults)—it's genuine curiosity, nothing negative in it.]

Killing isn't pretty. Don't wanna fuck up some kid if I can avoid it.

[It's not that she doesn't think kids aren't fucked up either, it's just that she doesn't want to contribute to it or cause it in any way. Because for all her talk about not caring, for all her talk about having no morals, she does have something of a heart.]

[Idly, his fingers drum at the side of the glass. Perhaps he should step in or say something once his dog flops over in what mud he's found, but nothing comes out in the bearded monster's direction.]

I imagine what you consider a kid has changed over the course of time. [Will's probably a kid to her, but according to societal norms, he's definitely not. The age of adulthood has changed throughout time, varies from culture to culture, so the idea of saying aren't we all kids to you? is a little ruder than he can bring himself to be. Disrespectful. Telling her how to feel.] What's it now, 21 and under?

Depends where you come from.

[A child in the United States might not be the same as a child in a country in Africa.]

Tend to go by that; where I am. It's how they're raised, what they've learned, how they deal with the world.

[Most of the time she probably doesn't come across as very smart or thoughtful, but there are some things that she can be a bit more aware of. To her, there's no definite age for what a child is, but it's still something quantifiable.]

[He follows that, especially here. Here where there's...]

I was busy trying to survive high school at the same age some of the kids here were in big organizations, living behind Walls in fear of the world beyond it. Or going past them to keep them standing.

[Or breaking them down, apparently. Will's not saying any names, didn't see Kara talk to the Titan kiddos, but he knows things happen privately as much as they do publicly. He shrugs, pulls a face.]

I'd take the locker vandalism over that any day. Difficult to know that here, isn't it? Who's a kid but more mature than most adults. We're all from such different places, it's...little overwhelming.

[Or maybe that's his empathy problem speaking.]

Can be.

[Difficult to know it here, she means. Or maybe she means it can be overwhelming, but she doesn't have the same empathy problem that Will does.]

Usually doesn't take too long to make a guess. But I'm good at picking out soldiers.

[Since they're on the topic of the Titan kiddos.]

[The Titan kiddos are sure all right with Will.]

Comes with the territory of being you, doesn't it?

[He might not be well-versed in many religions or systems of beliefs, might not have studied mythology much at all, but he can use Google, or its equivalent in this universe. He can use the library. He can get curious and wonder what shield maiden really means outside of what media portrays, the weird armor on the chest that leaves the legs completely bare, teenage boy masturbatory fantasy shield maidens.

There's still on judgment, simple hints of curiosity. The territory of someone's nature is a crapshoot, can be a mess, but it's what he deals with as much as what he has to deal with on a daily basis.]

Yep.

[He's right there, at least; what a soldier is, what a warrior is, has changed a lot over the years but Kara still tends to be drawn towards them, can still pick them out in a crowd if she needs to.]

And I've just got used to 'em, spent most of my life around soldiers.

[Before she started working for the Council.]

[He's quiet, looking off at nothing in particular, almost like he's not aware, not livid, not there with her anymore. Lost in his own thoughts or seeing something no one else can. At least, until he finally speaks and makes it apparent he's with her to a degree that might be uncomfortable.]

Times change. Soldiers change with the times. [A wave of the hand holding the glass.] Soldiers from culture to culture are different. Systems of morality, of good and bad, legality, it's all a mixed bag. A tossed salad that can't decide if it's fruits or vegetables, what the theme is. Get stuck here, some people are soldiers, might find similarities. What feels like it adds up, but nothing fits like it used to. Think you've found some people who you can get along with, have a basic understanding, but there's facets that they can't get. Won't get. Maybe don't want to get. Salad gets tossed again, find rocks in it. Inedibles. Getting rocks in your salad from someone you don't know is much different than someone you thought friendly chucking them in. Telling you to enjoy it just the same as the rest, acting like they're croutons, like you're the one who's not seeing anything how it really is.

[And then what to do when that situation arises other than get something hard and strong to drink? Coping in unhealthy ways is probably far different for her than it is for him. His liver, his body is mortal. Too mortal, full of other mortals without him knowing it.]

What're you gonna with the rocks?

[Throwing them back is probably not the best answer when it comes to interpersonal relationships. He may not having many good ones, but he knows that much. Turn them to ice and have a drink is a much better answer. Will's having a drink himself.

Food comparisons, metaphors, similes, it's better than going creepy. Isn't it?]

[She tries to follow, she really does, and only because she does like Will and he's been good to her, but she.

She just can't.]

The fuck, Will?

[Perhaps he should have been creepier. Though he does have to wonder from time to time if the people he talked to in that way, laden with metaphors and similes that got a point (the exact point or otherwise) across were just humoring him. Indulging him. Or maybe the creepier is better because it's more concise or maybe he should just stop thinking about how he misses certain kinds of conversations from certain people because certain people were not at all what they seemed to be.

His Golden Ticket one was pretty shitty, in retrospect. Maybe Jack just let him talk it out because eventually he'd pull it together into something reasonable. Ish.]

Nothing.

[Nothing that doesn't take a while to explain, nothing he's sure he can explain, nothing he can't fix by just not talking. Easy to not talk if he's drinking and sending his dog a look, his dog now muddier than he has any right to be and looking so happy for it.]

You sure? Seemed like there was a point in there someone I just couldn't keep up.

[She even likes Will enough that she's putting the fault on herself, rather than on him for being really fucking hard to understand.

Because if he did have a point, she'd like to hear it, he'll just need to dumb it down for her rather than use convoluted metaphors.]

[It's not something that she's alone in—honestly, it's a surprise no one has interrupted him before and asked him to either shut his fucking mouth or talk like a Goddamn normal person. Being rude never pays off, but still.]

Have you been to any of the cities here that you knew back where you're from? [A better starting point than ridiculous salad.] Used to live in this place here in Virginia, Wolf Trap. It looks mostly the same. The population, the way the land is—different buildings and businesses, but it's. Almost what I know. It's familiar but it's, it's wrong. [He has yet to do anything like ask or go where his house should be, uncertain if he'll find just a clean stretch of land, if he'll find a grocery store, if he'll find a house that looks like his but isn't, the owner unwilling to sell.] Sometimes the types people I should know, should be familiar with—it's the same way. It's right but it's completely wrong.

[That's one part of it, at least. Right but wrong. Meet an actual FBI agent, she mentions something about X-Files, a department in the basement, something he has no clue about. FBI? He knows that. That's right. X-Files and everything else? He has no idea. That's wrong.

Not wrong in the negative way, but wrong to what he knows. Different.]

[That makes more sense, and she nods to let him know that she's following along this time.]

Loki's here.

[It isn't the long explanation that Will gave, because Kara's never been particularly wordy and has gotten even less so with age. And anyway, she's sure what she's said will be enough for Will to understand. Loki's here, but he isn't Loki from her world, and it's wrong.]

[He does get it, as much (and more, in his own right) as possible. There had once been a younger version of Hannibal Lecter, with an extra finger and eyes that didn't light up quite right, from a different period of time altogether. He'd been something like nervous to see the one he knew (thought he knew), but when it had come to that younger, not right Hannibal Lecter...it was a bit of a trial.]

You hang out with gods back where you're from?

[No judgment. Curiosity, and something like impressed. That's sort of really cool, isn't it?]

They were my gods.

[That isn't quite the answer Will's probably looking for, but Kara isn't quite sure how to explain it. She lets out a sigh and busies herself with her cigarette for a moment, though it's clear she's planning to say more.

Eventually:]

I followed them, worshiped them. Never really met Loki 'cause he wasn't, you know. [one of the good ones.] But he's here, and it's different. Strange.

[She mentions gods, and Will looks up at the sky for a second, busies himself with another swig from a too-full glass while she fiddles with her cigarette. There's more to come and if he's patient and doesn't say anything, he'll get it. It's a little like fishing, only with no lures or waders and more him just keeping his mouth shut. Which he does.

He's had a few short conversations with Loki, seen the mentions of him on the network, but his opinion is pretty undecided. Probably pretty worthless to anyone, too, so why bother?]

Used to read stories about the gods when I was younger. Watered down ones you find in the libraries for kid readers, you know. [He assumes she has some idea. Will never veered too much into the mythological, picked up a few books and moved along to something else. Not his brand.] Seemed like there was a bunch of ways to worship. Follow. And they all had their own thing. [How does one worship a fertility deity other than...] Did you get to pick and choose or was it...kind of did something for all of them?

[A kid who moved all over the Bible belt, where worship was going to church on Sundays, maybe Wednesdays, and staying straight edge and clean and praying over meals and tithing. Tithing even when the money wasn't there, told that God would provide. Would return it. There would be safety if one could only believe and give up everything under His care. For a kid who had problems with knowing how many holes his socks could get before he must go after a new pair, that didn't seem so reasonable. What, would he tithe and a church leader hand him a fresh bag of socks? No, of course not. And what's the point of getting some church family when he's just going to move in a few months?

Better to wander into their open houses, their dinners, their free meals from time to time and listen to whatever they have to say while filling his belly. While making sure that his father had one less meal to worry about providing.

Will's ideas of worship are a scattered mess, his views on anything of true godhood not something easily shared or digested by most who would hear it, but that doesn't mean he can't listen to someone else talk about it. Especially someone who has experience with what could be considered legitimate gods as opposed to.

Well.

Completely out of their damn mind humans who want to be something they never can.]

Bit of both.

[It's weird to talk about this; she usually doesn't go into mythology too much with humans, because that would involve showing too much about herself, and other supernatural beings either know already or have their own gods, which means they couldn't care less about hers.

But Will is... Will. So she'll explain.]

Odin is the All-Father, so we all worshipped him. And all the Valkyries followed his orders, even though Freyja was the one who made us. Some of us. She's the goddess of war, death, fertility, love, beauty. Thor is the god of storms and strength, along with other things, but mostly we associated him with protecting us. Others are more specific, Baldr is the god of light, Bragi of poetry, Sif is the goddess of earth, Forseti the god of justice, Týr is the god of glory and law.

[That's a lot of words, for Kara, and she isn't even done, but she takes a sip of her drink before continuing, trying to think what to say next.]

We could make sacrifices to them or call upon them, depending on what we needed. Lots of sacrifices to Odin, Thor, Freyr, and Freyja would be made before battle. To Ægir to watch over those going to sea. Freyja, for those wanting to conceive. They couldn't always listen, but sometimes they did.

[With a shrug, she finishes off her drink and lapses into silence, feeling self-conscious for having said so much.]

Edited (okay i'm done sorry) 2014-09-20 05:22 (UTC)

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