You? You mean something to me. You, Hancock, Frankenstein, Jason, Adelina, Jessie - you've all shown me things I never thought I'd experience. It's selfish, but I would have never seen Adelina's superb hair braiding in Columbia. See the way Jason finally cracks a smile when you tell him a really good joke. Taste almond tea made by someone with centuries of practice.
I didn't have anyone besides -... ... There was -
...His name was Booker DeWitt.
[ She's brought the name up once or twice, but he needs to know the content. Her eyes look down to her hand, curling her fingers as if getting the blood working once more, feeling them flex tightly. The woman was not going to gush about the man who saved her, but she needs to bring him up, like that's the only way to ensure he's still alive. Still safe.
So she gazes back to Jack, smiling a little. No, not in some arrogant or all-knowing way. She looks happy. For the first time she cut her hair, she truly looked happy. ]
He's the one who got me out of the tower. A man who had his own personal demons. I didn't look a gifthorse in the mouth or did I ever truly thank him but.
[ She's not as sheltered as she's lead to be believed. ]
He slaughtered men to ensure my safety. To ensure - even if his reasons were selfish - that I would be alright. I've seen men gunned down, their faces bashed beyond recognition and - [ Her words grow soft. ] picked to death by the beaks of birds. All to protect me. And I let him.
[ She slumps her shoulders a bit, still not quite comfortable with that concept. To know Booker bloodied his hands further to get her out of Columbia. Her voice was raspy, exhausted and truly unsure of if he'll get the impact of her words. ]
We're all carrying sin, Jack. When I die - [ She says it matter of factly. ] I know my judgment will be there.
[ It's a warning - one that is far more ominous than her previous words. ]
But there's ways to make it right. Don't... don't let your sin drown you.
no subject
I didn't have anyone besides -... ... There was -
...His name was Booker DeWitt.
[ She's brought the name up once or twice, but he needs to know the content. Her eyes look down to her hand, curling her fingers as if getting the blood working once more, feeling them flex tightly. The woman was not going to gush about the man who saved her, but she needs to bring him up, like that's the only way to ensure he's still alive. Still safe.
So she gazes back to Jack, smiling a little. No, not in some arrogant or all-knowing way. She looks happy. For the first time she cut her hair, she truly looked happy. ]
He's the one who got me out of the tower. A man who had his own personal demons. I didn't look a gifthorse in the mouth or did I ever truly thank him but.
[ She's not as sheltered as she's lead to be believed. ]
He slaughtered men to ensure my safety. To ensure - even if his reasons were selfish - that I would be alright. I've seen men gunned down, their faces bashed beyond recognition and - [ Her words grow soft. ] picked to death by the beaks of birds. All to protect me. And I let him.
[ She slumps her shoulders a bit, still not quite comfortable with that concept. To know Booker bloodied his hands further to get her out of Columbia. Her voice was raspy, exhausted and truly unsure of if he'll get the impact of her words. ]
We're all carrying sin, Jack. When I die - [ She says it matter of factly. ] I know my judgment will be there.
[ It's a warning - one that is far more ominous than her previous words. ]
But there's ways to make it right. Don't... don't let your sin drown you.