"And his fight was probably a scuffle. No lost teeth, no broken ribs or bruised kidneys," he shakes his head. "The good news is, the rules in a breach don't apply here."
"Oh I have no idea. They had some magical nonsense going on," he laughs. "He was Mordred, if you can fucking believe it." He shakes his head, standing up to prep what they will need for the tea.
"But no, I've gotten...fairly good at separating the breach from real life." There's a small hitch in his tone, a catch in his breath and he knows his lie won't get past Lark, but he's not exactly in the mood to talk about it yet, so he skips past that part. "But I did use it to my advantage. Speaking of Fitz. We had a nice chat and everything just seems to be settled."
"Settled in the way that I wanted it to be settled; I'm not giving you details. Nosy mutt." Mostly because he's already had to watch Fitz squirm out of awkwardness and he's not willing to do the same with himself.
"How am I supposed to give you wise advice, or praise you for your wisdom, if you don't tell me details?" He complains but it's not serious. He leans slightly closer to the tea to enjoy the scent of it.
"I expect praise just for being myself," he reminds him, shoving him away with his elbow so he can let the tea steep. It's meant to be strong, so Lark has to wait a bit.
"But that isn't why I wanted to talk to you." He takes his gun from his waistband and hands it to him. "It's about this."
He needs two hands for tea, so he sets it on the counter. "I had a talk with Tess before the breach, you see. And I really should have said something to you then. But-"
He stirs in the milk.
"Well, I wasn't sure you'd go for it. I want the restrictions off of it."
"I thought as much." He smiles a bit, finally handing him the cup and taking his own to the couch.
That kettle is certainly going to come in handy. Thank christ.
"Part of the reason I'm here is because I do have a problem with self control. I realize that. You know that. We all know that. It isn't exactly a secret that I'm prone to, well, losing my temper now and again." He settles back in the couch. "And as long as I have training wheels on that thing, then I will never be able to prove that I have gained it."
"Is it too clichéd to say that I made a deal? No more murders? Well, no more unjustified ones? I'll defend myself. Properly, without loopholes," he adds with a laugh. "While I'm here."
He gestures to him, bringing the cup to his lips. "As for why not, why not now? Why not yesterday? Why not tomorrow? When is a good time to actually give myself a test that fucking means something? The consequence for failing falls on you, and I'm not willing to make that gamble."
Lark has been impassive, or at least his expression has been, but for just a flicker it softens. He isn't inclined to believe people take him into consideration, and he isn't quite sure what to do with the idea that Pagan is.
He's making all the points Lark had hoped he would, though, and it makes him smile just the littlest bit.
There's still one concern, though. "Is there any danger you're wanting to get ahead of? Specifically?"
"No," he answers honestly, taking a drink. "I told Norton I was done defending him. Quill and I ignore each other for the most part. The other people who hate me are wardens and won't touch me, so-" He shrugs. "Here we are."
A nod. "Okay. I'll get the restrictions off tonight." He inches a hand towards the cup and pauses. "I'm glad you're done defending Norton. I always felt he was, at best, willing to just take advantage of you. You deserve better than that."
Pagan thinks a moment, then shakes his head. "You know, I thought that might have been the case, but after talking to him? I don't think it was. Or, at least, it was with a good reason. I would have done the same, I think. He felt his death was insignificant. That she felt his death was insignificant. And that was somehow intolerable to him. Can't say I blame him for it."
"Oh I don't blame him for that. I wouldn't blame you, either. And I don't have a problem with what you did. I just doubt he appreciated it as much as he should have. You suffered trying to show he matters." A careful look. "Has he suffered for you?"
He looks into his tea, annoyed at this line of questioning. "And he never asked me to suffer for him. That was a fucking choice I had to make for myself. I wouldn't ask it of him because I know he wouldn't do it."
"You shouldn't have to," he says quietly. "I'm your warden. But if we were unpaired I'd still go fight for you. Wouldn't matter if I got hurt." He shrugs. "I'm a selfish person, maybe more than people realize. But I take care of the people who matter. So do you. No one should take that lightly."
"Well, that's because there are only a few people who matter," he tells him. "Some people have dozens of people they would fight for. I have- three. Perhaps four, given the day and how much Yunlan's pissed me off."
"Out of the four? You would. Yunlan would. Tess might. Kiryu would." He laughs off Kiryu, though. "But only because he doesn't know any fucking better. The rest of you, well, you know what you're getting into."
"Kiryu is Yakuza, he doesn't scare easily." A wry smile, which fades into his tea and is gone when he sets his cup down.
"I've got your back. You're right. And I don't tell you what to do, but... Don't give your back to people who will only run when you need them to cover you."
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"But no, I've gotten...fairly good at separating the breach from real life." There's a small hitch in his tone, a catch in his breath and he knows his lie won't get past Lark, but he's not exactly in the mood to talk about it yet, so he skips past that part. "But I did use it to my advantage. Speaking of Fitz. We had a nice chat and everything just seems to be settled."
Pagan established boundaries.
What a concept.
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He's glad to switch topics when he hears what it is. "Settled how?"
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"But that isn't why I wanted to talk to you." He takes his gun from his waistband and hands it to him. "It's about this."
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He stirs in the milk.
"Well, I wasn't sure you'd go for it. I want the restrictions off of it."
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That kettle is certainly going to come in handy. Thank christ.
"Part of the reason I'm here is because I do have a problem with self control. I realize that. You know that. We all know that. It isn't exactly a secret that I'm prone to, well, losing my temper now and again." He settles back in the couch. "And as long as I have training wheels on that thing, then I will never be able to prove that I have gained it."
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"Why else? Why now?"
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He gestures to him, bringing the cup to his lips. "As for why not, why not now? Why not yesterday? Why not tomorrow? When is a good time to actually give myself a test that fucking means something? The consequence for failing falls on you, and I'm not willing to make that gamble."
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He's making all the points Lark had hoped he would, though, and it makes him smile just the littlest bit.
There's still one concern, though. "Is there any danger you're wanting to get ahead of? Specifically?"
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He looks into his tea, annoyed at this line of questioning. "And he never asked me to suffer for him. That was a fucking choice I had to make for myself. I wouldn't ask it of him because I know he wouldn't do it."
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He smirks.
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"But again: how many of those would give back the same effort you give them?"
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"I've got your back. You're right. And I don't tell you what to do, but... Don't give your back to people who will only run when you need them to cover you."
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