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[greatlightother]

[Sveta’s smoking a cigarette on deck. Mostly out of habit, rather than necessity. She’s utterly calm and deadpan when she speaks- something that anyone who knows her might see as very, very out of character.]Petronilla is gone. Her room has returned to barge normal. She gave no warning and I didn’t actually see her in the port, so I’m not certain

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[greatlightother]

[She looked up to the door at the knock, tempted to shout at the person. She certainly didn't want company, even if it was Una. So she was silent, glaring at the door for a full thirty seconds. But this was her fault. She couldn't just dismiss the consequences. Carefully, she walked over, fully prepared to shut the door on an unwanted guest. However, when she opened the door a crack and saw who it was, she threw it open all the way and stepped back, tears streaming down her face still.]

What?

[greatlightother]

Fine. [She sniffed a bit and stepped back, but was too agitated to sit. She still held the necklace in her hands and it dangled down from her closed fist. It reminded her of...so many things. Of what had been taken. She glared at him through her tears.]

You knew, you bastard.

[greatlightother]

[She glanced to the door. It slammed shut.]

I don't know! I just... I don't know! [She sobbed through it all, pacing the room.] You gave it to me. You did this. You knew!

[greatlightother]

[The necklace fell from her hands and suddenly she was flying at him, her arms flailing in an attempt to hit somewhere, anywhere, as if that might make the pain stop. Tears continued to fall and her breath came out in ragged sobs.]

I hate it! I want him back. I want them all back! I can't do this. [Turning slightly hysterical, her voice rose to a shout.] I can't!

[greatlightother]

[She hit him, trying to drown out his words with the roaring in her ears. She hit until she felt her arms grow weak. But the tears still came. The gasping sobs remained. And she actually leaned against him, exhausted in all the ways a person can be exhausted. She just didn't know what to do with herself. He was right and she hated it.]

I'm not stronger than that... I'm not stronger than this. If I was, I wouldn't have done it.

[greatlightother]

[She accepted the gesture mindlessly, as it hadn't occurred to her that this was so very surreal. Too surreal, really. She couldn't truly attach herself to the situation. She didn't know what she wanted or needed and this seemed as good as anything else.

But his words stopped her and she shook her head, still not moving. Still not fully aware. All she could really sense was that she was so very, very broken. And the one person who could fix it was here...and she couldn't make herself agree.]

No.

It's not anger. It's not hate. It...I can't hate anyone.

[greatlightother]

[She was trembling from exertion and adrenaline, but she didn't allow herself to falter just yet. Not yet.]

But I do. I hate myself so much. I hate every decision that I make. It's like a great void. I hate that I can't do this. I hate that I'm not strong enough. I hate that...being here is wrong. I hate that I let Petronilla, Damon and Talbot go without helping them. I hate that they're probably out there...dead...just like everyone else.

Because of me. I hate it. I hate that I'll never be strong enough. [She finally did lose her will and sank down to the floor, burying her face in her hands.]

[greatlightother]

It was good. It was fine. [She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs, as if she had suddenly become a child.]

I'm not like you. [It wasn't meant to be cruel, but rather a simple statement of fact.] Hate is Dark. Hate is what fuels them. I can't.