[ Flying off without talking to anyone after the trial and execution was probably the clearest "leave me alone" sign in the universe. For better or worse, however, upon seeing John fly off Aradia decided to ignore the neon flashing sign of teenage angst. Not that this could really be classified as such - it was the third week of murders and executions, and accidental or no, they were...difficult on people. Aradia herself tended to have an easier time of bouncing back than some of the others. Compared to Jimmy and Juniper and Sam and how they'd acted throughout the previous trials, how they'd reacted to each subsequent death, Aradia Megido may as well have been made of stone.
That wasn't entirely the truth, although she found herself at ease with those who had passed. She'd told John himself as much once, hadn't she? That she had learned to be at ease with the cessation of being in any form - a truth which hadn't changed since coming to this place, although the enforced killing was...distasteful.
And she had told him something else back then, too.
Please believe that I would never take joy from the destruction of any soul.
That hadn't changed, either, even if she could smile during the interludes of peace and even during the investigations and trials. Aradia's feelings on death and dying were complex, colored by her own life and deaths as well as her aspect and class. She had grown up with death whispering in her ears, and she had died with those same voices, becoming one of them. Becoming all of them, in a strange way, as she looped back to herself again and again to correct the things that went awry, dooming herself a hundred thousand times.
She didn't follow too closely, at first, but she landed on the beach in time to see the screaming at the sky. Instead of approaching immediately Aradia just wrapped her arms around herself, watching. After John's arm went over his eyes, she approached, scooping up the glasses and kneeling down by his head. ]
John.
[ Move your arm so she can just hook these back over your ears, please, which might be a bit awkwardly done since she's doing it sort of upside down and she never wore glasses anyway, but. ]
You know, I don't think the supermarket actually carries these. If you break them, you're out of luck.
[ It's a pretty mild statement, and she's not actually trying to chastise him too much.
It's just words for the sake of saying something, sitting in the somewhat muddy sand (at least the snow is even further melted now, nearly gone, true to Monobear's suspicious as hell word) after watching the death of yet another "classmate". ]
no subject
That wasn't entirely the truth, although she found herself at ease with those who had passed. She'd told John himself as much once, hadn't she? That she had learned to be at ease with the cessation of being in any form - a truth which hadn't changed since coming to this place, although the enforced killing was...distasteful.
And she had told him something else back then, too.
Please believe that I would never take joy from the destruction of any soul.
That hadn't changed, either, even if she could smile during the interludes of peace and even during the investigations and trials. Aradia's feelings on death and dying were complex, colored by her own life and deaths as well as her aspect and class. She had grown up with death whispering in her ears, and she had died with those same voices, becoming one of them. Becoming all of them, in a strange way, as she looped back to herself again and again to correct the things that went awry, dooming herself a hundred thousand times.
She didn't follow too closely, at first, but she landed on the beach in time to see the screaming at the sky. Instead of approaching immediately Aradia just wrapped her arms around herself, watching. After John's arm went over his eyes, she approached, scooping up the glasses and kneeling down by his head. ]
John.
[ Move your arm so she can just hook these back over your ears, please, which might be a bit awkwardly done since she's doing it sort of upside down and she never wore glasses anyway, but. ]
You know, I don't think the supermarket actually carries these. If you break them, you're out of luck.
[ It's a pretty mild statement, and she's not actually trying to chastise him too much.
It's just words for the sake of saying something, sitting in the somewhat muddy sand (at least the snow is even further melted now, nearly gone, true to Monobear's suspicious as hell word) after watching the death of yet another "classmate". ]