Sometimes Svetlana had to wonder if Lawrence in general made people paradoxes within their own right. Or if it just pulled those who went in the opposite direction of themselves. Svetlana with her extremes and being an ice queen, Helena with being both ahead of her time all the while a product of her time. They both held things in, they both repressed. It was the society from which Svetlana was from. It was survival. But it was also being raised by two brothers so different from one another and thus feeling things too deeply or refusing to feel them at all. A barrier of ice. It didn't help that the night she'd slept, the dreams were once again of snow banks and blizzards.
The trick with Lawrence was balancing the good and chances one had with the insanity. Svetlana had seen the show and knew how it went. What it left for Helena, which wasn't much beyond pain and suffering. Lawrence gave her Emily and Oswin... and Svetlana had gotten some on the brainy woman from Helena her first night back, and it was obvious the two were still together and Helena embracing the advice she'd given her a year ago about not running from the opportunity. So she had to ensure Helena wouldn't sabotage herself with focusing on the darkness and pain.
Not that she could offer any solace that he was gone and wouldn't come back. Who knew what the Seal would do. It brought people back from the dead. People returned. It was too uncertain to make any sort of claim of that sort. So instead as Helena had drawn Svetlana's attention from her city watching, the blonde went back to the couch and sat down, finishing her second drink.
"And how do you feel you would do that? Writing? Focus the pain and anger into a passion?" Create from what he tried to destroy. "Do the opposite of what he intended?" It was a suggestion, and perhaps she was still hazy on certain aspects, on expressing herself but it made sense. At least to Svetlana.