Her mouth quirks sideways, the smirk self-deprecating. "Takes a friend, apparently. Going to be a lot harder to disappoint you than someone like Dorian, or Iris."
"I- yeah, he tries. I shouldn't say anything bad about him, I did get him killed." But he also wants to exterminate the bugs on board, so it's hard to hold her tongue.
"Wait, you can actually kill Dorian? I thought he was always talking about how that's his whole-" He wobbles both hands vaguely, before he crosses them loosely over his chest. "Thing."
Her mouth pressed thin at that, a little color fading from her face. “It’s not- it was enough me. Protecting myself was me. The Passenger didn’t do that.
“She was showing me how to do what I thought I needed, while I forgot how to think, but it was my… my choices.”
"Well, um." Hunter's expression shifts, a bit softer and tired. "When... when Belos gave me orders, or. Suggestions, for things he wanted done. I was still the one who chose how to act them out. So..."
It was uncomfortable, how weird this felt to try and convey, but maybe it would help? "So. Uh. It doesn't make what we did okay, I think. But... there's a difference. Between doing it because we wanted to, and doing it because we were manipulated not to see how other options existed. Ones that would hurt less people."
She nods, more to herself than him, and sits down on the edge of the porch, with a glance that asks him to join her.
“I think… there was some of that in me. I’ve definitely made decisions I’d love to blame on her. And she’s been… shaping me, I guess, since before I was born. I’ve spent most of the last year wondering if I’m me at all, or… just her useful little tool.
“But she’s dead, my Passenger. She died over a decade before I was born. I just have… I don’t know, a tiny shred of her ghost stuck up here.” She cups her hand on the peak of her skull. “And she tells me to fight and make sure my people survive - not individuals, she doesn’t know what those are, but my species - and she makes sure I know how to use every tool I’m given… even if those tools are other people, other lives, with their own shreds of her ghost or not… but she’s not alive, and she doesn’t think anything I don’t think.”
He'll sit down next to her, obviously, close enough to press his thigh against hers - and Flapjack hop-hops into Taylor's lap.
Hunter's hands rest in his lap, fiddling gently together as Taylor talks, watching her with warm concern. "But now you know that," he says quietly. "So you can... start thinking about why you're doing something, instead of just going with it because you believe that every idea in your head belongs to you. Which-" he gives a soft huff. "It's scary, right? Not knowing whether the thoughts in your head are yours or not."
She's glad of the little bird, and offers him cupped hands to settle in. It'll keep her from fidgeting.
"... Yeah. It's been... I learned about the Passenger about three... four days after I got back. A theory, not anything for sure, not for years. Just a theory. But it took root. And prison was a lot... of time to think and try not to think at the same time." Two years, increasingly scared of every decision she made, and where they came from.
"I got a lot from her, after I-" She makes a vague gesture to her head, her hand snapping open in a splay of fingers. "But a lot of it's- I can't understand it. I'm a human and she's a- an Entity. A huge inter-dimensional space slug ghost dancer, fuck if I know. I can't comprehend half of what I got from her."
He squeezes her hand back, and takes a moment to breathe; a slow inhale, an even exhale.
"Yeah, well. So can you. We just have to graduate you." He gives her another small smile. "And- if your powers do come back. I'm happy to use my deal for you. To make sure no one can ever use you like that again."
"We're going to defeat Belos. With, or without a deal here." It's not a guarantee, it's not something he already knows; it's just conviction. He has to believe they can do it.
"Okay." He squeezes her hand and tugs her in gently, so he can rest his head against hers briefly in a gentle headbutt. "Then, let's save trillions of people. It's not like I can't get another deal."
He knows; that there's every chance he won't end up staying for another deal, that he may not even be able to stay for Taylor's. But he has to try. And he has no issue whatsoever with making sure Taylor has something to graduate for.
”You can change your mind, I won’t hold you to it, but… thank you, Hunter. It…” She extracts her hand from his to spread it on her chest, over her heart. “It just feels so much more possible, already.”
"You already graduated once," he reminds her, letting his hand rest in his own lap but keeping his head pressed to hers. "I'm sure you can do it again."
Flapjack chirps in agreement, hopping forward and tilting his own head up so he can rest his little birdy chin on Taylor's arm too.
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"Yeah. Makes sense, doesn't it?"
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"Yeah. I mean, I guess it takes an inmate to graduate you, right?"
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"I kind of got the impression Dorian is always kind of disappointed in people? He tries to be really scathing on the network."
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“She was showing me how to do what I thought I needed, while I forgot how to think, but it was my… my choices.”
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It was uncomfortable, how weird this felt to try and convey, but maybe it would help? "So. Uh. It doesn't make what we did okay, I think. But... there's a difference. Between doing it because we wanted to, and doing it because we were manipulated not to see how other options existed. Ones that would hurt less people."
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“I think… there was some of that in me. I’ve definitely made decisions I’d love to blame on her. And she’s been… shaping me, I guess, since before I was born. I’ve spent most of the last year wondering if I’m me at all, or… just her useful little tool.
“But she’s dead, my Passenger. She died over a decade before I was born. I just have… I don’t know, a tiny shred of her ghost stuck up here.” She cups her hand on the peak of her skull. “And she tells me to fight and make sure my people survive - not individuals, she doesn’t know what those are, but my species - and she makes sure I know how to use every tool I’m given… even if those tools are other people, other lives, with their own shreds of her ghost or not… but she’s not alive, and she doesn’t think anything I don’t think.”
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Hunter's hands rest in his lap, fiddling gently together as Taylor talks, watching her with warm concern. "But now you know that," he says quietly. "So you can... start thinking about why you're doing something, instead of just going with it because you believe that every idea in your head belongs to you. Which-" he gives a soft huff. "It's scary, right? Not knowing whether the thoughts in your head are yours or not."
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"... Yeah. It's been... I learned about the Passenger about three... four days after I got back. A theory, not anything for sure, not for years. Just a theory. But it took root. And prison was a lot... of time to think and try not to think at the same time." Two years, increasingly scared of every decision she made, and where they came from.
"I got a lot from her, after I-" She makes a vague gesture to her head, her hand snapping open in a splay of fingers. "But a lot of it's- I can't understand it. I'm a human and she's a- an Entity. A huge inter-dimensional space slug ghost dancer, fuck if I know. I can't comprehend half of what I got from her."
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"The Titan has big plans for you," he echoes quietly.
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"Hey. You're making your own plans now."
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"Yeah, well. So can you. We just have to graduate you." He gives her another small smile. "And- if your powers do come back. I'm happy to use my deal for you. To make sure no one can ever use you like that again."
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"Your deal is for you. I know you have things you need."
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"And you're my friend. I wanna help you, too."
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“I- if I hadn’t fallen off the barge, the deal I wanted would have prevented the whole- all of it. Trillions of people.
“Hunter, if you have the chance to protect lives, that’s what I want you to use your deal for.”
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“Okay,” she echoes, voice not quote under control. “You’re sure?” Because he can’t be sure of another deal; she learned that the hard way.
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"I'm sure."
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”You can change your mind, I won’t hold you to it, but… thank you, Hunter. It…” She extracts her hand from his to spread it on her chest, over her heart. “It just feels so much more possible, already.”
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Flapjack chirps in agreement, hopping forward and tilting his own head up so he can rest his little birdy chin on Taylor's arm too.
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"... seen my file, yet?"
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