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Remy LeBeau (ace_of_clubs) wrote in vas_captio_rpg,

"Oui." He agreed, to the Doctor's statement that he could have left them all behind. "Almos' did, a few times. But someone was always draggin' me here or 'dere. 'Dat ain' me. I don' help people. Enfants? Sure. Maybe 'de occasional pretty girl. An' back when I had people? I help 'dem, too. But I see one of 'dem 'gain? 'Dey can rot in Hell." Red eyes remaining locked onto the Post Office, keeping his attention focused there. Idly, his shoulders rolled up, rocking the coat some as he did. "Shoul'a lef' 'dem behin'. Shoul'na let 'dem talk me into helpin'. Faible. Cela me rend faible." Weak. It made him weak. Caring about people made you weak. It made you a better person to be alone. He pushed his hands further into his pockets, fingers curling there as the jacket began to glow softly. The Cajun seemed completely unaware of what he was doing. Dangerous.

"Woul' you leave all 'dese people behin', Docteur, if you coul' trade 'dere lives for yours? I talk to L'initié today. Made frien's." Saying that made his lips curl up a little. "T'inks I'm funny. He say we meet, have coffee. Non sûr s'il l'a voulu dire. Mais je crois qu'il a fait." He wasn't sure if he'd meant it, but he thought he did.

"I'm still here." He sounded somewhat amused by that, the flat tone in his voice slowly melting away as his little smile returned. So much for seriousness. Or perhaps not.