Re: [Taxi: Cat & Jack]
Surviving is a specialty where I'm from. In other parts of the world, people study books and get careers. We? Study survival, and our version of a degree, a cap and gown, a diploma, is making it past adolescence alive. [Alright, perhaps that was a little darker than reality, but it was mostly accurate. Life, where she came from, wasn't it easy. And that lack of easiness, it made empathy a little hard for the girl with the brand-name on her tights.
Madness wasn't a topic that bothered her. After all, she'd spent her fair bit of time in an asylum. She was a kleptomaniac, after all. A career thief, and certain doctors liked getting their hands on anything that a certain Shadow cared about. And, then there was the dacha, where girls went mad with the effects of the serum daily. Cat remembered their screams. She remembered her own screams.
This was becoming a bore. No, she didn't feel like talking about madness. She skipped the topic entirely.]
What tune is my appearance meant to change? My sister's? Why would it do that? [She quirked a brow at him, and she pointed to the first exit for the Capital.] That one. [And then the paper was in her hand, and she was paging. She skimmed, marking a few pages for him as he talked about what had caused an old woman to shatter. It all seemed dreadfully selfish, but Cat understood selfish. Even young, it was a language she spoke well. It could be said, possibly, that she understood this particular language better young.] You can never go back. I hope you consider that lesson learned. [She motioned to herself, to her body, and then she dropped the newspaper at her feet.] Even this? Isn't going back.