Project MONUMENT, Supplemental: Bo's reaction to Brother Lazaro.
Here's another IC reflection from Bo regarding the group's current situation. For the record, Lazaro does not, in fact, bear any physical resemblance to a walrus.
As they sat in the van, making their way from their surprisingly successful raid on the hidden drugs to Bo's apartment, she stole the tiniest of glances at Brother Lazaro. He had barely given her a second look throughout this "evaluation" except when she spoke or took some sort of action, which was just as well. If he could have heard what was in her mind, she imagined he would have been a bit less unruffled by things.
Not that she was wishing him particular ill or imagining terrible things, of course. But somewhere between the realization that it was Roland's crazy at the root of the drugs and their locating its specific location, something in Bo's mind had flipped over to the absurd. There was an annoying commercial jingle that had popped into her head for a chain of restaurants called "Mighty Taco," but instead of the irritating "Migh-ty Ta-co Migh-ty Ta-co Migh-ty
Ta-co" riff, her brain had instead supplied "Hate-ful Wal-rus Hate-ful Wal-rus Hate-ful Wal-rus." It had started as soon as it had popped into her mind and had remained, even through the argument, even through the confrontation in the Hedge, lodged firmly as a repeating loop in the background. She was torn between giggling and agreeing with it. Even though he wasn't a huge man, and he really didn't bear much physical resemblance to a walrus, there was something…satisfying in identifying him that way.
Bo's animosity, frankly, surprised her somewhat. Really, in many respects, the concerns Brother Lazaro was here to investigate were concerns she shared. It was no secret that Bo had a difficult-at-best relationship with Robert. He was, in many ways, her polar opposite. He was socially connected and savvy, political influential, well-known and surrounded by friends and family, and deeply rooted to the community as well as his vision for is future. That had always been cause for a certain amount of personality clash between them. But once he became a mage, everything got far more difficult. Bo hated, HATED the idea of anyone in her mind, reading her thoughts, touching her memories. She’d spent years running from them - the last thing she could stand was someone else knowing what she had hidden and concealed. And, even beyond that, Robert was rather quick to "arrange" people and matters to his liking, whether through the use of his powers or plain, old-fashioned social manipulation. And she hated that, too. More than she could express. There was little in the world Bo reviled and feared more than being a pawn in someone's game, unwittingly dancing to their self-serving tune.
So, by that logic, she should have been, if not pleased, at least understanding of Brother Lazaro's presence and mission. Except that she wasn't. In fact, she probably resented him as much as Robert himself, and possibly more. She didn't know how the mage felt about the intruder, but for her part, Bo would cheerfully have left him in the Hedge. For a while, anyway.
It wasn't that she had anything against him personally. He hadn't been at all out of line or inappropriate or even horribly intrusive. But in the end, Brother Lazaro represented a threat to Robert. And that could not be allowed.
Because somewhere in the last 10 months, somewhere between the danger and the frankly ridiculous battles (and the deadly serious ones) and the problems she could never have imagined, Bo had changed. Irrevocably, maybe. She had stopped seeing this group as a set of people she tolerated and began to view them with the same emotions she had once ascribed to her squad back in Chicago. They were a team, a unit, a…well, they weren't really a family, but if they kept going this way, maybe they would be. They were together. That was what mattered.
Bo always thought she would have been better suited to another time and place, somewhere the ancient ideas about tribe and clan still thrived. Because under her closed and unwelcoming demeanor burned the simple primal instincts that lived on in prides of lions and packs of wolves. Bo was, with something worth protecting, as territorial as any predator. When she was alone, she had no reason for those impulses, but now that she had given over herself to this group, all her dormant instincts were returning. Robert, Aðalsteinn, Souna, Roland - they were not just the people she called on in a fight, not just people for whom she would die without regret. They were also rapidly becoming a group of people she would kill for without a moment's debate. A group of people she would trust to watch her back in a fight as she had trusted no one since her partner in Chicago. People she turned to not just out of obligation, but by choice. And with that trust and loyalty came a fierce, fiery, almost wild sense of protection.
Her reptilian brain had, put simply, identified those four with a single word, "Mine." And what was Bo's, she defended and protected to the end.
Of course Robert still made Bo far more nervous than maybe anyone else. She still feared his powers, questioned her trust in him, and regularly argued with him or ignored his tacit leadership. But she also was the first and most likely of them all to keep him in the loop when the group was split and something happened. She was usually the one to roll her eyes with him when the more…eccentric members of their group were grabbing at plans a bit farther off the path of rationality. And everything else aside, she had been completely willing to put her mind in his hands if it meant keeping the madness from returning to Roland. Bo hated Robert's mage powers and what he could do with them, but she had come to trust him as a person. And even though Bo didn't know if Robert saw her only as a useful ally or a real sister-in-arms, without ever meaning to, she had apparently designated him a friend.
And if Robert was going to be a part of Bo's inner circle, then anybody who threatened him was no longer welcome. Nobody threatened what was Bo’s. Not ever. Which was why she was so gleefully furious with the brother in their midst. Lazaro represented a threat to something she protected. And in her mind, he had no right to judge or weigh or consider her friends. Robert might be a mind-mage with an extraordinary capability to influence, but if he was a problem, he would be her problem first. Bo had never had a younger sibling, but if she had, she likely would have completely and thoroughly subscribed to the "the only person who can pick on you is me" philosophy. If Robert were to snap and do terrible things, Bo would Hunt him herself; she would never, ever let anyone but one of her own take him down. Lazaro had no place in this equation. Robert was her friend, he was one of her squad, and until that was no longer true, she would protect him from whatever came for him, be it another mage, a vampire, or the entire Catholic church.
But this was a test for their whole group, not just Robert anymore, so she would keep her animosity under wraps and play as nice as she ever did with strangers and outsiders. Hopefully Brother Lazaro would see the same things that had won Bo's extremely hesitant trust, and would leave them alone. But if he didn't, no matter what forces he brought to bear, for as long as Robert was a friend and ally and a good man, Bo would defend him to the death. She never would have expected it, but a strange and unimaginable path had brought her here, and Bo was nothing if not ready to stand and fight where she found her feet.
She couldn't, of course, tell Robert any of this. She wasn't THAT friendly with him, or anybody, come to that, after all. But she hoped, quietly, that he could tell the change in her. And if he didn't see it now, if Brother Lazaro went against them, he'd surely figure it out when Bo did whatever she had to in order to keep her own safe at her side. Robert was HER friend, HER squad, and, if worse came to worst, HER problem. She would not stand for anyone else to interfere with what was hers. And Brother Lazaro was interfering at best, and an open threat at worst.
So, as far as Bo was concerned, Brother Lazaro could go stick his head in a pig and drown.
This entry was originally posted at http://gamerchick.dreamwidth.org/599285.html. You can comment on either journal. Number of comments on Dreamwidth:
As they sat in the van, making their way from their surprisingly successful raid on the hidden drugs to Bo's apartment, she stole the tiniest of glances at Brother Lazaro. He had barely given her a second look throughout this "evaluation" except when she spoke or took some sort of action, which was just as well. If he could have heard what was in her mind, she imagined he would have been a bit less unruffled by things.
Not that she was wishing him particular ill or imagining terrible things, of course. But somewhere between the realization that it was Roland's crazy at the root of the drugs and their locating its specific location, something in Bo's mind had flipped over to the absurd. There was an annoying commercial jingle that had popped into her head for a chain of restaurants called "Mighty Taco," but instead of the irritating "Migh-ty Ta-co Migh-ty Ta-co Migh-ty
Ta-co" riff, her brain had instead supplied "Hate-ful Wal-rus Hate-ful Wal-rus Hate-ful Wal-rus." It had started as soon as it had popped into her mind and had remained, even through the argument, even through the confrontation in the Hedge, lodged firmly as a repeating loop in the background. She was torn between giggling and agreeing with it. Even though he wasn't a huge man, and he really didn't bear much physical resemblance to a walrus, there was something…satisfying in identifying him that way.
Bo's animosity, frankly, surprised her somewhat. Really, in many respects, the concerns Brother Lazaro was here to investigate were concerns she shared. It was no secret that Bo had a difficult-at-best relationship with Robert. He was, in many ways, her polar opposite. He was socially connected and savvy, political influential, well-known and surrounded by friends and family, and deeply rooted to the community as well as his vision for is future. That had always been cause for a certain amount of personality clash between them. But once he became a mage, everything got far more difficult. Bo hated, HATED the idea of anyone in her mind, reading her thoughts, touching her memories. She’d spent years running from them - the last thing she could stand was someone else knowing what she had hidden and concealed. And, even beyond that, Robert was rather quick to "arrange" people and matters to his liking, whether through the use of his powers or plain, old-fashioned social manipulation. And she hated that, too. More than she could express. There was little in the world Bo reviled and feared more than being a pawn in someone's game, unwittingly dancing to their self-serving tune.
So, by that logic, she should have been, if not pleased, at least understanding of Brother Lazaro's presence and mission. Except that she wasn't. In fact, she probably resented him as much as Robert himself, and possibly more. She didn't know how the mage felt about the intruder, but for her part, Bo would cheerfully have left him in the Hedge. For a while, anyway.
It wasn't that she had anything against him personally. He hadn't been at all out of line or inappropriate or even horribly intrusive. But in the end, Brother Lazaro represented a threat to Robert. And that could not be allowed.
Because somewhere in the last 10 months, somewhere between the danger and the frankly ridiculous battles (and the deadly serious ones) and the problems she could never have imagined, Bo had changed. Irrevocably, maybe. She had stopped seeing this group as a set of people she tolerated and began to view them with the same emotions she had once ascribed to her squad back in Chicago. They were a team, a unit, a…well, they weren't really a family, but if they kept going this way, maybe they would be. They were together. That was what mattered.
Bo always thought she would have been better suited to another time and place, somewhere the ancient ideas about tribe and clan still thrived. Because under her closed and unwelcoming demeanor burned the simple primal instincts that lived on in prides of lions and packs of wolves. Bo was, with something worth protecting, as territorial as any predator. When she was alone, she had no reason for those impulses, but now that she had given over herself to this group, all her dormant instincts were returning. Robert, Aðalsteinn, Souna, Roland - they were not just the people she called on in a fight, not just people for whom she would die without regret. They were also rapidly becoming a group of people she would kill for without a moment's debate. A group of people she would trust to watch her back in a fight as she had trusted no one since her partner in Chicago. People she turned to not just out of obligation, but by choice. And with that trust and loyalty came a fierce, fiery, almost wild sense of protection.
Her reptilian brain had, put simply, identified those four with a single word, "Mine." And what was Bo's, she defended and protected to the end.
Of course Robert still made Bo far more nervous than maybe anyone else. She still feared his powers, questioned her trust in him, and regularly argued with him or ignored his tacit leadership. But she also was the first and most likely of them all to keep him in the loop when the group was split and something happened. She was usually the one to roll her eyes with him when the more…eccentric members of their group were grabbing at plans a bit farther off the path of rationality. And everything else aside, she had been completely willing to put her mind in his hands if it meant keeping the madness from returning to Roland. Bo hated Robert's mage powers and what he could do with them, but she had come to trust him as a person. And even though Bo didn't know if Robert saw her only as a useful ally or a real sister-in-arms, without ever meaning to, she had apparently designated him a friend.
And if Robert was going to be a part of Bo's inner circle, then anybody who threatened him was no longer welcome. Nobody threatened what was Bo’s. Not ever. Which was why she was so gleefully furious with the brother in their midst. Lazaro represented a threat to something she protected. And in her mind, he had no right to judge or weigh or consider her friends. Robert might be a mind-mage with an extraordinary capability to influence, but if he was a problem, he would be her problem first. Bo had never had a younger sibling, but if she had, she likely would have completely and thoroughly subscribed to the "the only person who can pick on you is me" philosophy. If Robert were to snap and do terrible things, Bo would Hunt him herself; she would never, ever let anyone but one of her own take him down. Lazaro had no place in this equation. Robert was her friend, he was one of her squad, and until that was no longer true, she would protect him from whatever came for him, be it another mage, a vampire, or the entire Catholic church.
But this was a test for their whole group, not just Robert anymore, so she would keep her animosity under wraps and play as nice as she ever did with strangers and outsiders. Hopefully Brother Lazaro would see the same things that had won Bo's extremely hesitant trust, and would leave them alone. But if he didn't, no matter what forces he brought to bear, for as long as Robert was a friend and ally and a good man, Bo would defend him to the death. She never would have expected it, but a strange and unimaginable path had brought her here, and Bo was nothing if not ready to stand and fight where she found her feet.
She couldn't, of course, tell Robert any of this. She wasn't THAT friendly with him, or anybody, come to that, after all. But she hoped, quietly, that he could tell the change in her. And if he didn't see it now, if Brother Lazaro went against them, he'd surely figure it out when Bo did whatever she had to in order to keep her own safe at her side. Robert was HER friend, HER squad, and, if worse came to worst, HER problem. She would not stand for anyone else to interfere with what was hers. And Brother Lazaro was interfering at best, and an open threat at worst.
So, as far as Bo was concerned, Brother Lazaro could go stick his head in a pig and drown.
This entry was originally posted at http://gamerchick.dreamwidth.org/599285.html. You can comment on either journal. Number of comments on Dreamwidth: