[Consensual party fouls and everything. It's very sweet, what they have. That they found it so instaneously. They were two of a kind in that manner, immediate in charm, open with their care. She can't count the number of conversations she's had or overheard where Karlach's name came up, always doused in golden light. She'd cracked Karma, bolstered Daan. A town darling. Swarmed with love and gratitude every step of the way, too humble and well deserved to begrudge.
Except she does, at times. Another spark of shame rises. Chased by chastisement — stop acting like a child.
But it's true. The sting of envy is real. She thinks of Geto's confession to her two days ago. I thought of you as a problem, not a person. At the time she'd only thought to dissuade his guilt, young boy that he is, caught up in dangers unimaginable. In the days since those words had scraped at her.
That's the perfect way to put it, isn't it? She is something to be fixed, as Karlach kept trying to do, as Rondo and Gale and their two teen comrades had hoped to solve. She is something to be avoided. Like Astarion, pushing her off and marching her to the pyre, smarten up. Like Daan, who can't put faith in her, can't accept her affection. Can't come too close, lest she drag him down with her.
And when she tries to help others she only makes it worse. Kate could have been spared weeks of insanity and bloodshed if not for her bumbling interference. Ashlyn too. She fumbled every ball passed to her in trial, she fell to histrionics at a moment's notice, and anyone who learned more than two things about her kept her on wary watch. You can't leave a powder keg unattended.
It's funny, how something so silly as a cursed Boothill pulling his lover away had cut straight to the heart of the matter: the only person who had ever wanted her that badly was Amma. Look how that ended.
Unknown to her, ink begins crawling across her collarbone. Pity is the best you'll get.]
Could have been a worse drink, I supppose.
[Camille cants her head at the insistence, unsure what the implication is here. A little hesitantly, in a tone meant to be teasing:]
Uh, we're talking now, aren't we? [A beat] Actually, you could fill me in on what's been happening with you. Sounds like you've all had a wild time. Daan mentioned something about the Lakeview?
[karlach is an observant person. she thinks she has a pretty decent idea of who camille is, of how she takes things, and how the trauma in her life influences so much of the way she sees the world, and the people in it. she hears the thought - she sees the text that crawls across her collarbone, and there's something soft and warm and sad that gathers in her chest.
there's no pity here. concern, maybe, because she cares. but more than anything, it's a sort of soothing patience, an unshakeable sense of steadiness. and under that, there's not insecurity, but something close to it. the idea that she can help and she should, but she isn't sure that she's enough. that anything or anybody could be enough, for all the people who hurt here.
but friendship isn't fixing. it's giving, and trading, and sharing. so, first:]
Ah - well. I made bad decisions and died? I came back, though. It's okay. Daan made it out okay, so that's what matters.
[...]
You're going to get mad at me for reading your tattoos, but I don't pity you, Camille. Wish you wouldn't think that way about yourself.
[She startles. Looks down, spies the words. It takes her a second to parse them upside down and at a bad angle. She winces and casts her glance far off to the side.]
It's not — don't worry about it. It's not anything to do with you.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Hey you.
[Eying the mess. Something more prickly skates through her. Then a sharp shame.]
Left the party early, did you?
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Yeah. Had to deal with a very hissy boy for a bit. [amused vibes - and also some soft concern.] You didn't do anything wrong, I hope you know.
I know you by now, that's not going to be enough, but - I'm saying it.
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[Not that they did either.
Still, the unease remains. Less of a shyness for company, more for something vague.]
I should have asked first, myself.
no subject
[just so she knows, but she tilts her head.]
Anyway. You going to talk to me? I'm listening, like always.
no subject
Except she does, at times. Another spark of shame rises. Chased by chastisement — stop acting like a child.
But it's true. The sting of envy is real. She thinks of Geto's confession to her two days ago. I thought of you as a problem, not a person. At the time she'd only thought to dissuade his guilt, young boy that he is, caught up in dangers unimaginable. In the days since those words had scraped at her.
That's the perfect way to put it, isn't it? She is something to be fixed, as Karlach kept trying to do, as Rondo and Gale and their two teen comrades had hoped to solve. She is something to be avoided. Like Astarion, pushing her off and marching her to the pyre, smarten up. Like Daan, who can't put faith in her, can't accept her affection. Can't come too close, lest she drag him down with her.
And when she tries to help others she only makes it worse. Kate could have been spared weeks of insanity and bloodshed if not for her bumbling interference. Ashlyn too. She fumbled every ball passed to her in trial, she fell to histrionics at a moment's notice, and anyone who learned more than two things about her kept her on wary watch. You can't leave a powder keg unattended.
It's funny, how something so silly as a cursed Boothill pulling his lover away had cut straight to the heart of the matter: the only person who had ever wanted her that badly was Amma. Look how that ended.
Unknown to her, ink begins crawling across her collarbone. Pity is the best you'll get.]
Could have been a worse drink, I supppose.
[Camille cants her head at the insistence, unsure what the implication is here. A little hesitantly, in a tone meant to be teasing:]
Uh, we're talking now, aren't we? [A beat] Actually, you could fill me in on what's been happening with you. Sounds like you've all had a wild time. Daan mentioned something about the Lakeview?
no subject
there's no pity here. concern, maybe, because she cares. but more than anything, it's a sort of soothing patience, an unshakeable sense of steadiness. and under that, there's not insecurity, but something close to it. the idea that she can help and she should, but she isn't sure that she's enough. that anything or anybody could be enough, for all the people who hurt here.
but friendship isn't fixing. it's giving, and trading, and sharing. so, first:]
Ah - well. I made bad decisions and died? I came back, though. It's okay. Daan made it out okay, so that's what matters.
[...]
You're going to get mad at me for reading your tattoos, but I don't pity you, Camille. Wish you wouldn't think that way about yourself.
no subject
It's not — don't worry about it. It's not anything to do with you.
[Realistically speaking.]