We're business partners. [Okay, that's probably not clarifying much.] But our business isn't just—it isn't a selfish hope. I don't even care for all the credits we get. [It says a lot, too, that Clarke seamlessly has always referred to them as credits. Her introduction to fiduciary comfort is the end result of being a part of this world. And she hates it.]
I stepped in because Markus cared about the Displaced, and I care, too—maybe not enough, maybe not to the point of calling them my people, but I—we—know what we owe to them. You and I. That means we can't be blind to what we're doing, what we can have others do, from this point forward.
Mm. [ A quiet noise of receipt. After a couple of seconds to organise himself: ]
This isn't the first time it's taken a catastrophic mistake for me to realise how capable I am of making them. [ More than one of those times have been here, though none this big. It lends weight to her point, as if it needed any extra. ]
If there is a next time, I'll hear you.
[ They're partners. The next time she uses her voice, he'll listen. And not just through the filter of his own perspective. ]
It's easy to justify something by the ends, even if you think you're the only one hurting from it. [Clarke had evaded responsibility by feeling she was taking it all onto herself. Her first attempt at escaping had been that: set out to find answers without the limits of what were set on them as they moved from one part of the city to another.
It was foolish and nearsighted. She can't be that narrow in her focus. Even "my people" versus "the Displaced" is foolish, isn't it? Does it matter when it ultimately becomes the same as long as she's here?]
I need to change, too. I said it just then, right? That maybe I don't care enough. But I'm in this with you until I get what I want, which is to do right by this world so I can bring my people here. [A goal she set out once she got back, a goal she won't be pushed away from. At least for now.]
I won't go to the lengths I will for my people, but that doesn't mean I'm not in a position to be responsible. We both have to face up to who we are to them, and do our parts.
[ It's odd to hear it put into those words. We both have to face up to who we are to them.
Stephen's been a lot of things. A strategist, an expert in most things he puts himself to, a genius. He's been responsible for lives on all sorts of scales: brains under instruments; the development of spells and medical techniques that have and will go on to save thousands; the safeguarding of reality itself. All of these things, in one way or another, have made thematic sense in his life. The products of a brilliant mind.
He can count on one hand the number of people who might have marked him for a community leader.
So she'll have to forgive him the time it takes him to dredge up his reply. It's spent rifling back through his life here, through both of their lives here, clocking in the memories of troughs and turning points. To bring him, inevitably, to his conclusion. ]
It's amazing what an extended stay in another universe can do.
[ There's fondness in the remark. It's by no means a dismissal. ]
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no subject
... Okay.
[ It's an uncertain-sounding opening of the floor. What does she mean? ]
no subject
I stepped in because Markus cared about the Displaced, and I care, too—maybe not enough, maybe not to the point of calling them my people, but I—we—know what we owe to them. You and I. That means we can't be blind to what we're doing, what we can have others do, from this point forward.
no subject
This isn't the first time it's taken a catastrophic mistake for me to realise how capable I am of making them. [ More than one of those times have been here, though none this big. It lends weight to her point, as if it needed any extra. ]
If there is a next time, I'll hear you.
[ They're partners. The next time she uses her voice, he'll listen. And not just through the filter of his own perspective. ]
no subject
It was foolish and nearsighted. She can't be that narrow in her focus. Even "my people" versus "the Displaced" is foolish, isn't it? Does it matter when it ultimately becomes the same as long as she's here?]
I need to change, too. I said it just then, right? That maybe I don't care enough. But I'm in this with you until I get what I want, which is to do right by this world so I can bring my people here. [A goal she set out once she got back, a goal she won't be pushed away from. At least for now.]
I won't go to the lengths I will for my people, but that doesn't mean I'm not in a position to be responsible. We both have to face up to who we are to them, and do our parts.
no subject
Stephen's been a lot of things. A strategist, an expert in most things he puts himself to, a genius. He's been responsible for lives on all sorts of scales: brains under instruments; the development of spells and medical techniques that have and will go on to save thousands; the safeguarding of reality itself. All of these things, in one way or another, have made thematic sense in his life. The products of a brilliant mind.
He can count on one hand the number of people who might have marked him for a community leader.
So she'll have to forgive him the time it takes him to dredge up his reply. It's spent rifling back through his life here, through both of their lives here, clocking in the memories of troughs and turning points. To bring him, inevitably, to his conclusion. ]
It's amazing what an extended stay in another universe can do.
[ There's fondness in the remark. It's by no means a dismissal. ]