"Candy land?" He shakes his head. "Don't answer that. I can fucking figure it out. But I'm sure we'll have a whole bunch of nonsense after this. People acting out just because they can. Actually, that's not a bad plan. I think I might go shoot something in the Enclosure. Get drunk. Find Misty in the hallway and flip her off."
He grins, laughs even. "Well if you end up shooting Misty give me a heads up. Last thing we need is William scratching at your door with a butcher knife."
"That fucking weird guy? Yeah. I'd rather not get stabbed. And I won't shoot Misty. God, my stock is already low enough. You think I want it in a free-fall?"
He finishes his tea and sets it aside. "Give me more credit than that."
Not really, of course. He said he'd change the gun and he will; he's been thinking about those 'training wheels' and when to take them off since a little before Pagan met Kiryu. He sips his tea, circles back to an earlier topic.
"Were you really worried the breach was trying to tell you something?"
"No," he assures him. "I don't assign meaning to them. I don't like the fucking feeling afterward, but it's not something I can fight. It's just something I have to wait on."
He laughs. "Like a really fucking terrible hangover."
"That's what I used to call it," Lark grimaces. "Only I would have taken the worst hangover I had when I was a drinker over this. I get that there are lessons you can take from them--for me, I've learned to be grateful I was never a simpering small town lawyer. But I don't think the lessons are useful."
"Not in this breach, no. Just like feel-good movies don't come with deep meanings." But there have certainly been others where he'd discovered something new. "Who were you in it? A visitor?"
"A visitor," he adds unhelpfully. "Well, I had been born in the town, moved to the city and was corrupted by power and money, and then came home and was transformed by love."
He rolls his eyes. "I jumped in the water. In a Givenchy."
"Oh god no!" he laughs. "Don't be so dramatic. It was a fun frolic while I was getting back to my small town roots. Shedding my propriety or something like that. Showing that I didn't care about material things."
He manages a smile. "It's the absurdity of it, Lark. That's all. You worry too much. It will pass, like I said. I just need to act out a bit. Shoot something. Hit something. And I intend on doing just that."
"How many have you even been through?" he wonders, standing up to pour another cup of the tea. He's glad he taught himself to perfect it; it's coming in handy now.
"Well, what's a more memorable one that doesn't come with a sob story I have to suffer through?"
"Twenty, maybe more. They aren't all memorable." It's one of the biggest reasons Lark no longer has a firm grasp of time or years. "But yeah, they usually have us all living sad lives. That last one was probably the softest one in a long time."
He looks over his shoulder. "I didn't mind the train one. Yunlan and I bashed a few guards' heads in. I learned how to be a proper government protester. It was great fun."
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He finishes his tea and sets it aside. "Give me more credit than that."
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Not really, of course. He said he'd change the gun and he will; he's been thinking about those 'training wheels' and when to take them off since a little before Pagan met Kiryu. He sips his tea, circles back to an earlier topic.
"Were you really worried the breach was trying to tell you something?"
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He laughs. "Like a really fucking terrible hangover."
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He leans forward. "Which I highly doubt."
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He rolls his eyes. "I jumped in the water. In a Givenchy."
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He rolls his eyes.
"Ridiculous."
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"Go ahead, go on. Laugh if you like. Laugh at my misery!"
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"Well, what's a more memorable one that doesn't come with a sob story I have to suffer through?"
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