Poor South's forehead hits the sandbag like a kid who's just dropped their ice cream off the top of a bridge, bought a new one and dropped it again. Carolina softens imperceptibly. Sympathizes with how difficult it is to defend yourself when you can barely find the right words to explain how you feel; harder when that person's already gone and pissed you off once. She considers patting her on the shoulder. Doesn't. But the sentiment is there.
"Maybe. Maybe not. It's about setting a boundary. I have good report with her, and I didn't get any of this when I first showed up, and I was arguably more of a threat than you, so it's extra bullshit. She should know better." A beat. "It'll be fine. Yeah?"
It's probably fucked up that a part of her bristles at the idea of being less of a threat than Carolina, when that's what she wants in this situation, isn't it?
She keeps that on the inside and just sighs heavily, like accepting this is a reasonable course of action takes genuine effort (because it does). "Yeah. Sure. But if it fuckin' backfires, I've earned an 'I told you so'. Maybe two."
"That's fine." She shrugs. "Whatever helps you sleep at night. I'm going back inside. If you want coffee or water or something, the door's open." She turns on her heel, stops and makes a snappy gesture at the branch and rope suspending the bag in air. "Don't snap that. And wrap your hands, for god's sake."
"Ugh, fine," South groans, overdramatic and playing it up a bit. Steps away, begrudgingly, just long enough to find some bandages to wrap her hands with before she gets back to it.
Feels... a little better, now, if still raw around the edges in a way that's sure to leave her bitching to North when she makes it home. Bolstered, but still shaken. But still. Better.
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Date: 2025-12-10 02:24 pm (UTC)Poor South's forehead hits the sandbag like a kid who's just dropped their ice cream off the top of a bridge, bought a new one and dropped it again. Carolina softens imperceptibly. Sympathizes with how difficult it is to defend yourself when you can barely find the right words to explain how you feel; harder when that person's already gone and pissed you off once. She considers patting her on the shoulder. Doesn't. But the sentiment is there.
"Maybe. Maybe not. It's about setting a boundary. I have good report with her, and I didn't get any of this when I first showed up, and I was arguably more of a threat than you, so it's extra bullshit. She should know better." A beat. "It'll be fine. Yeah?"
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Date: 2025-12-10 08:14 pm (UTC)It's probably fucked up that a part of her bristles at the idea of being less of a threat than Carolina, when that's what she wants in this situation, isn't it?
She keeps that on the inside and just sighs heavily, like accepting this is a reasonable course of action takes genuine effort (because it does). "Yeah. Sure. But if it fuckin' backfires, I've earned an 'I told you so'. Maybe two."
Wrap?
Date: 2025-12-10 08:38 pm (UTC)"That's fine." She shrugs. "Whatever helps you sleep at night. I'm going back inside. If you want coffee or water or something, the door's open." She turns on her heel, stops and makes a snappy gesture at the branch and rope suspending the bag in air. "Don't snap that. And wrap your hands, for god's sake."
And back up onto the porch she goes.
wrap!
Date: 2025-12-10 09:58 pm (UTC)"Ugh, fine," South groans, overdramatic and playing it up a bit. Steps away, begrudgingly, just long enough to find some bandages to wrap her hands with before she gets back to it.
Feels... a little better, now, if still raw around the edges in a way that's sure to leave her bitching to North when she makes it home. Bolstered, but still shaken. But still. Better.
(She's not sure if she'll ever get used to this.)