Kjersti Volden
AC: 20 | Fort: +9 | Ref: +7 | Will: +9
HP: 36/36 | Focus: 1/1 | Hero: 0/3 | Perception: +7
Conditions
"Ain't no 'mount of polish can mend a rotten core," Kjersti murmurs quietly at Temperance's description of Westcrown. It's a name she's heard only a few times in her life, and knows next to nothing of the place... until now. And it sounds terrible. She watches the crack form in her friend's composed demeanor, a million things seen and done and experienced that she can only imagine, now pressing at the opening. Her instinct is to reach across the table, create a strong and solid connection to hold tight to but she's not sure that's what she wants. Rather, she watches her close her eyes and speak what is maybe like a mantra to herself.
"I'm glad you got away from that place." The words feel hollow, despite how much she means it. There is no volume of consolation or affirmation that can right the wrongs that have been done to Temperance. They will be her burden to bear forever... but that doesn't mean she has to do it alone. "An' I'm sorry for it happenin'. Feels like our corner of the world is all gone to Hell, whichever where you look." Her bright blue eyes turn down to the mostly-gone cocoa as if better answers or better solutions will present themselves in the dark ripples. There aren't any rural anecdotes in her back pocket that come anywhere near this depth of pain. Not that backwards anecdotes from the rural counties are what anyone wants to hear...
"I reckon... sounds like we got a little of the same kinda fire tryin'a burn us from inside. Y'seen it in me..." A finger unconsciously raises to brush against the thin line bisecting her brow. "...I seen it in you. Maybe why y'chose your name?" Asking the meaning behind a nephilim's name was surely deeply personal, but she still risks that ire.
"For what it's worth... y'done a whole lotta good in this place, whether you felt it was or no. For the Nursery, for the Jills, for Korva and her sisters... for me..." She looks up and smiles faintly.
