“Thing is if you focus on what’s gone wrong rather than moving past it and making certain it doesn’t happen again you get dragged down by the guilt.” Speaking from experience Tony sips at his drink then nods as if considering what she must have gone through searching for him with her abilities. There was a lot of anger and suffering in that area. “Crowd control would be the better gig by far. So now that you’re back home what’re your plans?”
“Oh, I’ve got a couple open web design contracts to keep the roof over my head, and I hop around wherever I’m needed when little things go wrong. It’s more often than I’d like.” The cruelties of humanity to itself is a constant source of sadness for her. She eyes her drink, toying with the ice again. “Mine is a very quiet life, really. I spend most of my free time at home, reading or playing games or tending the cats. I’m not really,” an uncomfortable shrug, “a social person.”
“All evidence to the contrary I’m actually pretty reclusive. I’ve found that making a splashy appearance here and there for a few minutes allows me to a lot of time to spend working on various projects without being bothered. More or less.” Tony offers a smile. He’s trying to steer the conversation away from a topic that’ll drag them both down into what could be an epic level of depression to rival the dark aroma of his favorite coffee. “Do you want to be out among the people or would you rather stay at your place? Have you ever considered a nullifier?”
“Oh, I’m very much an introvert. I’d far rather hide in my own space, safe from — well.” She tips back the drink, ice cubes rattling. “Why? What’s a nullifier?” He’s trying to steer the conversation, she knows, but so long as they talk at all about her ability, there will be pain underlying it. And, she thinks, the same for him. If they could find a thing that didn’t cut — but that was unlikely. They were who they were.