[ It's not an accident that Nadine is the only person to whom Julie has actually expressed how small and unsupportive her world was before the superflu. Tiny, rural American towns didn't like people who stood out, who wanted bigger and better. They resented anyone who got out, devoted themselves to dragging down others like crabs in a bucket. Julie was a girl, was poor and the child of drunks. She was too smart, talked too much and longed for more, and it was easier for the adults in her life to convince her that she wasn't destined for anything important anyway, so she should stop trying. They didn't have the energy to put into nurturing a child who didn't fit the mold. And their lack of recognition taught her that she wasn't smart or important, because if she was, they would have put in the effort, right? So she must not have been worth it.
But, when she started learning magic, Geralt didn't think she was too dumb or too immature to do it. He held up a poinsettia and told her to try again when she thought he would tell her to give up. Not because she thought lowly of him, but because she considered him grounded and logical, so she assumed he would see what she really was. And he did -- that just turned out to not be what she thought she was.
With a quiet hum, she rests her head on his shoulder. Maybe there is something to the idea of destiny, that she had to come to Abraxas this way because she needed him to encourage her, to be here with her so she wouldn't give up. She doesn't know what she gives back to him, because she doesn't see herself as someone with much to give; maybe she was just meant to be the one who was there that night in Nott. Maybe there really is no rhyme or reason, and they just happened to crash into each other and stick. She supposes it doesn't matter in the long run.
She twirls the stem of the flower between her fingers, and without consciously meaning to, makes it bloom where she had rolled it back to slightly before that point. ]
no subject
But, when she started learning magic, Geralt didn't think she was too dumb or too immature to do it. He held up a poinsettia and told her to try again when she thought he would tell her to give up. Not because she thought lowly of him, but because she considered him grounded and logical, so she assumed he would see what she really was. And he did -- that just turned out to not be what she thought she was.
With a quiet hum, she rests her head on his shoulder. Maybe there is something to the idea of destiny, that she had to come to Abraxas this way because she needed him to encourage her, to be here with her so she wouldn't give up. She doesn't know what she gives back to him, because she doesn't see herself as someone with much to give; maybe she was just meant to be the one who was there that night in Nott. Maybe there really is no rhyme or reason, and they just happened to crash into each other and stick. She supposes it doesn't matter in the long run.
She twirls the stem of the flower between her fingers, and without consciously meaning to, makes it bloom where she had rolled it back to slightly before that point. ]
How long are you gonna be gone this time?