[if it helps at all, thoughtshare makes it easier to tell there's no malice to the blunt things she says. she's just blunt, she doesn't tend to sugarcoat things, and she's curious about people.
she listens to what camille says, lacing her fingers together.]
I wasn't any of that, either. I was just an ignorant girl. And a lot of people died the day I did. There were two young children, a father, a loyal servant, a rather unpleasant young man all the girls fancied... dead just like me, hanging from that tree, but they didn't wake up and I did. [she toys with her hair, twisting it in front of her.] We died to send a message to people I had never met, who never learned our names, and even that I didn't find out until years later.
And it was bad. [a little bitterly, a bit of a resentful edge to it.] I didn't have anyone who was happy to have me back. [Not like you.] They all thought I was a monster. They drove me away.
[It depends on the crowd you come back to, she supposes. And what you come back as. Camille imagines if she returned less pretty and more mangled — maybe even monstrous — the reception might be different. Or if she came back to the Wind Gap crowd. They'd be delighted for the scandal, maybe. A new devil to scorn, more proof that Camille and the Crellin family are on a swift plummet to rock bottom.
But that isn't what happened. Camille may not be thrilled to be back, but these people are ready to have her.
She puts a hand on Laudna's arm. Still heavy hearted, make no mistake. But that doesn't mean she can't see past her own nose.]
You're no monster. [Sure, there's the literal sense. She's undead. As is Astarion. Karlach is something devil-adjacent, Kate is a shadow. Boothill had been 99% robot. Those were material facts.
Not a one of them were cruel. Nor heartless. The monsters she knew came in humbler shapes, malice sitting pretty behind comelier skins.]
[whatever bitterness or anger she felt melts away; it's not as though she actually resents camille for any of this. she just gets so angry when she has to remember all of that.]
...I'm sorry, too. I know it's hard. They didn't give you the ability to have a say in how it happened.
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she listens to what camille says, lacing her fingers together.]
I wasn't any of that, either. I was just an ignorant girl. And a lot of people died the day I did. There were two young children, a father, a loyal servant, a rather unpleasant young man all the girls fancied... dead just like me, hanging from that tree, but they didn't wake up and I did. [she toys with her hair, twisting it in front of her.] We died to send a message to people I had never met, who never learned our names, and even that I didn't find out until years later.
And it was bad. [a little bitterly, a bit of a resentful edge to it.] I didn't have anyone who was happy to have me back. [Not like you.] They all thought I was a monster. They drove me away.
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[It depends on the crowd you come back to, she supposes. And what you come back as. Camille imagines if she returned less pretty and more mangled — maybe even monstrous — the reception might be different. Or if she came back to the Wind Gap crowd. They'd be delighted for the scandal, maybe. A new devil to scorn, more proof that Camille and the Crellin family are on a swift plummet to rock bottom.
But that isn't what happened. Camille may not be thrilled to be back, but these people are ready to have her.
She puts a hand on Laudna's arm. Still heavy hearted, make no mistake. But that doesn't mean she can't see past her own nose.]
You're no monster. [Sure, there's the literal sense. She's undead. As is Astarion. Karlach is something devil-adjacent, Kate is a shadow. Boothill had been 99% robot. Those were material facts.
Not a one of them were cruel. Nor heartless. The monsters she knew came in humbler shapes, malice sitting pretty behind comelier skins.]
I wish you didn't have to do it alone. I'm sorry.
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...I'm sorry, too. I know it's hard. They didn't give you the ability to have a say in how it happened.