The phrase “processing that shit” sits weirdly in Temple’s mind. Part of him knows that “processing” isn’t what happened, that it happened far more instantly than that. But that is drowned out by the mind-altering influence of the sticker, by how the city is making him feel.
So, Temple replies, feeling uncomfortable but not quite sure why, “Well, I’ve had a lot of time to think, I guess…”
It’s not what caused him to forgive the Freelancers but it is technically true - he did have lots of time to think; he just didn’t use it to process his shit anywhere near as thoroughly as Duplicity’s mind-altering influence makes it seem like he did.
"Like, nine months, is a long time, yeah. I mean, that's how long it took me to get my shit together, so."
Not that that means all that much to Temple, who didn't know her at her worst, just the concept of her as one of the Freelancers that fucked up the sim troopers. But still. South's able to be genuinely sympathetic, here, and her own dissonant internal processes just aren't notable enough for her to know something's up.
“Suppose that means we have something in common, then,” Temple replies, laughing amicably.
He’s not all surprised that South had shit she needed to get together - after all, she is a Freelancer and Temple would be more shocked if those guys didn’t have issues - but he doesn’t say so, figuring that insulting her and the Freelancers right after forgiving them would be both counterproductive and confusing. But the remark’s still on the tip of his tongue.
South snorts a laugh. "Yeah, guess it does. Granted, I'm still a hot mess at the best of times but—"
She shrugs one shoulder. It's a process and she's still finding a balance between who she is and who she should be. Sometimes she still makes... bad choices, and she feels like she always will. Some of the damage just runs too deep.
Or maybe that's the self-loathing talking. Who can say.
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The phrase “processing that shit” sits weirdly in Temple’s mind. Part of him knows that “processing” isn’t what happened, that it happened far more instantly than that. But that is drowned out by the mind-altering influence of the sticker, by how the city is making him feel.
So, Temple replies, feeling uncomfortable but not quite sure why, “Well, I’ve had a lot of time to think, I guess…”
It’s not what caused him to forgive the Freelancers but it is technically true - he did have lots of time to think; he just didn’t use it to process his shit anywhere near as thoroughly as Duplicity’s mind-altering influence makes it seem like he did.
no subject
"Like, nine months, is a long time, yeah. I mean, that's how long it took me to get my shit together, so."
Not that that means all that much to Temple, who didn't know her at her worst, just the concept of her as one of the Freelancers that fucked up the sim troopers. But still. South's able to be genuinely sympathetic, here, and her own dissonant internal processes just aren't notable enough for her to know something's up.
no subject
“Suppose that means we have something in common, then,” Temple replies, laughing amicably.
He’s not all surprised that South had shit she needed to get together - after all, she is a Freelancer and Temple would be more shocked if those guys didn’t have issues - but he doesn’t say so, figuring that insulting her and the Freelancers right after forgiving them would be both counterproductive and confusing. But the remark’s still on the tip of his tongue.
no subject
South snorts a laugh. "Yeah, guess it does. Granted, I'm still a hot mess at the best of times but—"
She shrugs one shoulder. It's a process and she's still finding a balance between who she is and who she should be. Sometimes she still makes... bad choices, and she feels like she always will. Some of the damage just runs too deep.
Or maybe that's the self-loathing talking. Who can say.