Ankyra Sound the fault is not in our stars, but the moon; that idiot rock ruins everything

i've been okay.

it feels strange. strange to speak to her as if they are strangers who bump into one another a few times a year. strange because that's exactly what they are. strange because they shouldn't have been. he was her father. ...her biological father, at least. arturo'd always prided himself on the fact that his children were his redemption arc and now? now he couldn't even claim that.

the devil got no redemption arc. that was just how the world worked. the evil and the cruel stayed evil and cruel. there was no salvation offered, no quarter given.

the gangster's okay with it ...because he has to be. he fucked up. with the lotturos. with his and hemlock's children. he fucked up real bad and though he is apologetic for it he can't bring himself to say the words. they were just words. he couldn't go back and fix everything and here and now they might sound hollow or worse yet condescending.

good, the fearghal replies in a soft rasp, a firm nod of his head given. i'm glad to hear it. he is glad that she seems to be doing well for herself. that's all he, as a father, ever wanted for his children: to do well. to be happy.