Arrow Lake erinnerung

She was not as kind as Mahler and most certainly not anywhere near the compassionate leader he was. While he stood there, trying his best to reassure everyone, all she could think was that she didn't want to be here at all. She wanted to excuse herself and find somewhere where she could be alone—where she didn't have to pretend that she wasn't a complete mess of grief and guilt and uncertainty. 

But she didn't leave, she stood still at the general's side, expression stoic and unreadable as he spoke. She wasn't surprised that her children were nowhere to be seen. She tried her best to help them, but she constantly worried that she wasn't helping them at all. Her gaze shifted then, locking on to her son as he arrived. Her eyes lingered on his face briefly before flicking to the other child, Primafaya; Taki hadn't spent much one on one time with the girl, but she knew she often played with her children.

Kazimir spoke first, apologized for being gone. As a rule, Taki never found much value in spoken apologies. Words were easy to give. Actions went a lot further with the new Kapitän. But she had no problem offering her a chance to prove that she would actually keep her promise to stay, especially since it seemed her absence wasn't entirely her fault, or so she claimed. 

And then Ketzia arrived with her children. She didn't appear thrilled to hear that Taki was the new General's second. She supposed that was partly her own fault, she could admit that, but Taki held the least amount of blame for how things had been. That's how she saw it anyway. But that didn't really matter anymore, she only wanted peace, and no matter what suspicions lurked in the other woman's mind, Taki wasn't a child killer; she possessed many unsavory personality traits, but that wasn't one of them. She would just have to prove it, which was no different than what she expected of everyone else. 

She had been quiet until this point, not sure what to say. She didn't feel she had anything useful to add. But her gaze landed on Mesa again, and his expression reminded her so much of his father that she temporarily lost the ability to breath. She swallowed and pulled her eyes from him, sliding them across the faces of all who had gathered. We can never replace Stigmata, and we would never want to, but I'm hoping we can help everyone heal. What a joke; she couldn't even help her own children heal. Diaspora was founded on a certain set of values, and I will continue to uphold them just as Stigmata would have wanted. Not eloquent like the General, but quick and to the point per her usual. She fell silent again with a nod to the pack, giving someone else the chance to say something.