[She meets her in the living room to begin helping her unload whatever else she's brought. It's that awkward tasking to prevent the conversation Anne apparently wants to have.
If you so like. There are several other items we need far more, however.
[ Today she's just brought back coffee, a lighter, and some knives, which are what she originally went out hunting for. It helps that Max works so hard to provide for them, but it's still not easy to locate anything in this snowy waste. ]
Shall I brew us some to drink, then? Or would you prefer spiced wine?
[ And it's easy, since she already had the mixture sitting in a pot from the previous night. The winter months are best for that sort of thing, but it seems like it's just going to be winter forever here. Maybe she ought to get used to having winter food, too, which is...not as delicious.
But she only has to think about their cramped lives on the moonbase to remember how good this actually is. ]
Have you been in the house all day?
[ Anne doesn't bother with an apron, simply being careful as she moves the pot and turns on the heat, putting the knives away in a drawer. The old ones had just been too dull, and she's no smithy prepared to sharpen blades. ]
I never thought to have to test and see how well I can stand to such fearsome weather, but now I have no choice. I must get my hands upon some sturdier fabrics, and I believe I am needing another pair of boots. If you can acquire any of this on your next mission, mayhap we can put our needlework to good use for some clothing.
[ Although she'd need to find someone else for actually making shoes. Anne just can't get around in soft slippers as often as she used to, even the kinds with the rubber bottom she found in Exsilium, and they certainly don't do anything to warm her feet while inside. Getting around does help, though, so she doesn't sit for long before she's up again to peek at the wine and wonder if there's some kind of snack she can whip up in no time. ]
But before we are to make further plans with one another, I wonder if we should not talk.
[Anne's request is processed and Lisbeth makes a mental note to get those things the next time she ventures into the past.]
Yeah no problem.
[Oh god, talking. If Lisbeth had a piece of gum in her mouth, this is where she would chew slowly and glance at Anne. Instead, she takes a long drag of her cigarette, almost to the filter. This is where she would get up and offer to make some coffee, to deflect the subject, but Anne is already making spiced wine.
[ Anne turns away as a particular smoke cloud reaches her, absently waving a hand beside her to clear the air before turning back again and reaching for two glasses. She still has her little set of goblets from the former Exsilium, a selfish thing to have packed maybe, but it's not like she could have fit another child in there if she had excluded them. ]
[She's been tracing the lines in the wooden table, but when she hears the question, she stops. What should she tell her? That Saul told her not to tell anyone? She remembers Arya's disappointment when she told her the same thing. But lying wasn't going to solve anything either.]
Saul told me not to tell anyone. I'd said too much when I posted that thing on the network so I decided to not add any more fuel to the fire.
[ Despite the context, Anne's tone is rather careful, but not so much as to seem indifferent. Her expression betrays little, only allowing a slight ruffle of her brow to show any discontent at the answer while she sets the goblets down on the table. ]
I see. And how do you think Saul Goodman chose those to be deemed worthy of the truth, and those of us who were waved aside with discomforting lies?
[Lisbeth mutters a thank you when Anne joins her at the table with their wine. She gets up quickly to grab a mug to put her cigarettes in. As she sits back down at the table, she crushes the filter at the bottom of the mug and tosses it inside.
She already feels like she'll need another one.]
I don't know. I don't know why he told me Jesse overdosed and told everyone else that he went home. I wish he'd told me that.
[ She watches Lisbeth stand as she sits, her gaze like the hawks all Boleyns strive to be. Her gaze quickly moves back to her own coffee when the young woman returns, and she takes a sip only to help add normalcy to this moment.
Her thoughts are storming, but her voice is still calm. ]
That is why you were so upset. More than I was aware, or could be.
[ A glance back up, finally, and her eyes could reflect the very ice lining their stairs outside. ]
Your suffering does not excuse you from the lies I bore, from both you and Saul Goodman. No matter his request, it was your decision to keep the truth from me. I deserved to know. I am more than merely a passing waif off the street.
And he is worth more than what he was given. He deserved to be mourned. He deserved to prayed for, to have a funeral.
[ Maybe he couldn't have had one back home, not with how he died, but they didn't even recognize that religion here, she knows. He could have had one. ]
You did not know he would return, after all. Nobody could have known.
Of course he's fucking worth more than what he was given.
[Her voice remains steady for now.]
But you saw how the community reacted to him simply taking a power away that he could return to its owner. They fucking vilified him. How would they react if they knew he overdosed?
[Her knuckles turn white as she grips her cup tightly.]
Sure, we could have kept it within our circle, but secrets always come out.
I care not about their reaction! I am not speaking of them, but of myself, and of you, and Jesse Pinkman.
I should think this conversation to be proof enough of secrets and lies reaching the surface. All you have accomplished is wounding trust, and nothing else.
[ Her lips press together so tightly the blood abandons them, and she looks away, momentarily needing to regather her wits. She will not lose her temper or her composure. ]
Please do not insult me by offering such base excuses.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Oh shit, thanks.
[She meets her in the living room to begin helping her unload whatever else she's brought. It's that awkward tasking to prevent the conversation Anne apparently wants to have.
About what, though, she's very unsure of.]
I can get chocolate on my next mission.
no subject
[ Today she's just brought back coffee, a lighter, and some knives, which are what she originally went out hunting for. It helps that Max works so hard to provide for them, but it's still not easy to locate anything in this snowy waste. ]
Shall I brew us some to drink, then? Or would you prefer spiced wine?
no subject
[Lisbeth takes the coffee and walks it into the kitchen, placing it in a cabinet for later.]
no subject
But she only has to think about their cramped lives on the moonbase to remember how good this actually is. ]
Have you been in the house all day?
[ Anne doesn't bother with an apron, simply being careful as she moves the pot and turns on the heat, putting the knives away in a drawer. The old ones had just been too dull, and she's no smithy prepared to sharpen blades. ]
I worry you are not seeing enough people.
no subject
Yeah I have. It's how I used to live in Sweden so this is... normal for me.
[She even worked from home. She hated going into the office.]
no subject
[ Although she'd need to find someone else for actually making shoes. Anne just can't get around in soft slippers as often as she used to, even the kinds with the rubber bottom she found in Exsilium, and they certainly don't do anything to warm her feet while inside. Getting around does help, though, so she doesn't sit for long before she's up again to peek at the wine and wonder if there's some kind of snack she can whip up in no time. ]
But before we are to make further plans with one another, I wonder if we should not talk.
no subject
Yeah no problem.
[Oh god, talking. If Lisbeth had a piece of gum in her mouth, this is where she would chew slowly and glance at Anne. Instead, she takes a long drag of her cigarette, almost to the filter. This is where she would get up and offer to make some coffee, to deflect the subject, but Anne is already making spiced wine.
She finally answers.]
What's up?
no subject
I wish to ask, why you did not tell me?
no subject
Saul told me not to tell anyone. I'd said too much when I posted that thing on the network so I decided to not add any more fuel to the fire.
no subject
I see. And how do you think Saul Goodman chose those to be deemed worthy of the truth, and those of us who were waved aside with discomforting lies?
no subject
She already feels like she'll need another one.]
I don't know. I don't know why he told me Jesse overdosed and told everyone else that he went home. I wish he'd told me that.
1/2
Her thoughts are storming, but her voice is still calm. ]
That is why you were so upset. More than I was aware, or could be.
no subject
Your suffering does not excuse you from the lies I bore, from both you and Saul Goodman. No matter his request, it was your decision to keep the truth from me. I deserved to know. I am more than merely a passing waif off the street.
And he is worth more than what he was given. He deserved to be mourned. He deserved to prayed for, to have a funeral.
[ Maybe he couldn't have had one back home, not with how he died, but they didn't even recognize that religion here, she knows. He could have had one. ]
You did not know he would return, after all. Nobody could have known.
no subject
[Her voice remains steady for now.]
But you saw how the community reacted to him simply taking a power away that he could return to its owner. They fucking vilified him. How would they react if they knew he overdosed?
[Her knuckles turn white as she grips her cup tightly.]
Sure, we could have kept it within our circle, but secrets always come out.
no subject
I should think this conversation to be proof enough of secrets and lies reaching the surface. All you have accomplished is wounding trust, and nothing else.
[ Her lips press together so tightly the blood abandons them, and she looks away, momentarily needing to regather her wits. She will not lose her temper or her composure. ]
Please do not insult me by offering such base excuses.