Maeve
As he explains what he was in his past life, things click a little more. She makes a soft noise, nodding her head slowly, "I see. So if the child didn't meet the standards..." It's not a question and even if it was he wouldn't need to answer it. She understands completely what he means. They would be killed. An innocent little baby. No wonder he didn't want to have children.
Maeve hates that look in his eyes. The way it seems to scream that he's not sure if this was all for naught. If he ruined everything for nothing. She wishes she could do more to comfort him, but there isn't anything she can do. She's just Maeve. Little Maeve with no powers or special abilities or favor from the gods. What could she possibly do to help him? What could she do to help anyone? "I suppose so.." She murmurs, dropping her eyes once more.
They do care? They fucking care? Yeah, sure, they care about what you can do for them. That's what they care about. Everything Maeve has heard about them suggests it. As an accepted, she was merely a tool for them. Why would they care about her? Why would they bother if they couldn't get anything from her? It's bitterness. She knows it. She knows that perhaps her feelings are misguided, but how could she accept that the gods loved them when they ignored the calls of a child? Her stomach twists sourly and not even his half hearted compliment can change that.
"I don't want anything to do with the Voice." She snaps, tone icy and sharp as she clenches her jaw, "I don't really want much to do with any of them. Why would I? You say they care, but I haven't had a single instance where I have felt their love. What kind of god ignores a child?" Maeve looks up at him then and there is a clear hurt in her eyes at the memory. Calling out so desperately for gods that could never answer her even if they wanted to. Not that she knew then and not something she even realizes now, all these years later. Except he's looking at her like she's missing something and it makes her pause even as her throat tightens with an emotion she tries hard to ignore, but his gaze drops in time with the shrug of his shoulders.
A soft sound of indignation rises in her already tight throat and her fingers tighten on the next bag, "So what? Because you fucked up some things in life and made a few bad choices you deserve to lose everything?" There isn't really any fight in the words and she's left with a bitter taste in her mouth. "The world really is a cruel place..." She knew it before and she knows it now, but sometimes a reminder comes and knocks the air from your lungs. It leaves you flat on your back wondering what the fuck happened and why it had to happen to you.
Maeve hates that look in his eyes. The way it seems to scream that he's not sure if this was all for naught. If he ruined everything for nothing. She wishes she could do more to comfort him, but there isn't anything she can do. She's just Maeve. Little Maeve with no powers or special abilities or favor from the gods. What could she possibly do to help him? What could she do to help anyone? "I suppose so.." She murmurs, dropping her eyes once more.
They do care? They fucking care? Yeah, sure, they care about what you can do for them. That's what they care about. Everything Maeve has heard about them suggests it. As an accepted, she was merely a tool for them. Why would they care about her? Why would they bother if they couldn't get anything from her? It's bitterness. She knows it. She knows that perhaps her feelings are misguided, but how could she accept that the gods loved them when they ignored the calls of a child? Her stomach twists sourly and not even his half hearted compliment can change that.
"I don't want anything to do with the Voice." She snaps, tone icy and sharp as she clenches her jaw, "I don't really want much to do with any of them. Why would I? You say they care, but I haven't had a single instance where I have felt their love. What kind of god ignores a child?" Maeve looks up at him then and there is a clear hurt in her eyes at the memory. Calling out so desperately for gods that could never answer her even if they wanted to. Not that she knew then and not something she even realizes now, all these years later. Except he's looking at her like she's missing something and it makes her pause even as her throat tightens with an emotion she tries hard to ignore, but his gaze drops in time with the shrug of his shoulders.
A soft sound of indignation rises in her already tight throat and her fingers tighten on the next bag, "So what? Because you fucked up some things in life and made a few bad choices you deserve to lose everything?" There isn't really any fight in the words and she's left with a bitter taste in her mouth. "The world really is a cruel place..." She knew it before and she knows it now, but sometimes a reminder comes and knocks the air from your lungs. It leaves you flat on your back wondering what the fuck happened and why it had to happen to you.
These violent delights
Have violent ends
Have violent ends
