(No part of this could possibly be positive, huh. Lucretia hefts the canister in her hands, makes to twist it open, then stops. Maybe Taako should go first. There's a horrible, scared part of her that is worried about how far forward she'll go. As she is now, younger and absolved of any future action, she's aware that it's much easier to afford her some amount of forgiveness; but if she comes forward to a point where she's aware of her plan? How will the others look at her then?
She's frozen in place, staring at the canister.
Lucretia wants so badly to open her mouth and make him promise something stupid. That he'll always love her, no matter what. But she just can't bring herself to ask. In the event of the worst happening, she's not sure she deserves that kind of promise. She exhales shakily.)
no subject
(No part of this could possibly be positive, huh. Lucretia hefts the canister in her hands, makes to twist it open, then stops. Maybe Taako should go first. There's a horrible, scared part of her that is worried about how far forward she'll go. As she is now, younger and absolved of any future action, she's aware that it's much easier to afford her some amount of forgiveness; but if she comes forward to a point where she's aware of her plan? How will the others look at her then?
She's frozen in place, staring at the canister.
Lucretia wants so badly to open her mouth and make him promise something stupid. That he'll always love her, no matter what. But she just can't bring herself to ask. In the event of the worst happening, she's not sure she deserves that kind of promise. She exhales shakily.)
Want to open them together?