[Notable to Tess: that this is a thing Carol even considers at all.]
Well, in the last two days there, my partner and I snuck across multiple borders, used fake IDs, used three illegal tunnels, bribed people, smuggled contraband, smuggled a kid in exchange for guns, and wiped out most of an ex-associate's gang. We killed about fifty people, all in.
So imagine that on repeat for more than ten years. Before that, I was in a militia that bombed checkpoints. Terrorism didn't pay enough.
Not having to worry about survival every day. Having people who are honest with me and give a shit about me because they care, not because they're afraid of me or need me to survive. Not having to think about being sold out. Being more than just a vulture. [And in the business of being honest, even if it feels too personal, a blunt addition:] A man who loves me and says so.
I hate being bored. Still do. This place is a drag for that. So when I'm out of this place, and I've saved over a million people's lives, I'm going to be a bounty hunter.
People who're afraid of you will come at you in predictable ways that you can defend against. People you care about will rip your heart right out of your chest when you least expect it. And if they're really good at faking, you can't tell until it's too late.
[ Carol's sample size isn't the largest but all she knows is she's had better luck with the people she's terrorized than with the people she's tried to befriend. ]
I don't want people to care about me, anyway. I want respect. I want power. You know how hard it is to get that when you're a girl, unless you're willing to be exceptionally ruthless.
I did this shit for about as long as you've been alive, Carol. I feel pretty sure that it's just easier when people don't fear you period, and that living and working with criminals meant I was dealing with people who, surprise surprise, had a low fucking bar for at what point they'd try to fuck you over.
But let me tell you: I know a good deal when I see one. The respect and power I have now is worth far more than the respect and power I had when all I had to do was look at my partner and he'd dislocate a shoulder or breaking a nose for me.
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But alright, what were you like before you got dragged here?
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Well, in the last two days there, my partner and I snuck across multiple borders, used fake IDs, used three illegal tunnels, bribed people, smuggled contraband, smuggled a kid in exchange for guns, and wiped out most of an ex-associate's gang. We killed about fifty people, all in.
So imagine that on repeat for more than ten years. Before that, I was in a militia that bombed checkpoints. Terrorism didn't pay enough.
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And being here convinced you to trade that all in for...what?
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I hate being bored. Still do. This place is a drag for that. So when I'm out of this place, and I've saved over a million people's lives, I'm going to be a bounty hunter.
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[ Carol's sample size isn't the largest but all she knows is she's had better luck with the people she's terrorized than with the people she's tried to befriend. ]
I don't want people to care about me, anyway. I want respect. I want power. You know how hard it is to get that when you're a girl, unless you're willing to be exceptionally ruthless.
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But let me tell you: I know a good deal when I see one. The respect and power I have now is worth far more than the respect and power I had when all I had to do was look at my partner and he'd dislocate a shoulder or breaking a nose for me.
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[Why wouldn't she want Joel to floor someone who was trying to do harm to her? Why wouldn't she want Arthur to shoot someone about to kill her?]
But it doesn't have to be a fucking flex.