braying jackass

The dead give no fucks. "Hear, hear," Theory murmured in assent. Although she felt guilty on Shaye's behalf, she no longer held any grief for Tana. The woman had been a poor and absent mother. Theo only mourned the loss of the childhood she could have had. She couldn't help but chuckle at Valentine's assessment of Serpent Plains, even if she was quite fond of the place. He certainly wasn't wrong. The acerbic and irreverent remarks were a welcome change of pace, although she could tell that it might wear on your soul after a while. It wasn't a wonder that Rhyme and his father weren't close. In fact, if she was pressed, Theory wasn't sure if she could come up with two more different individuals - at least from first brush. Of course she knew her father much better than she did Valentine, but she wasn't sure she'd ever heard her dad say fuck.

"Stomach her face?" she replied quizzically. "He mentioned that she... well, that she chose you. He seemed despondent over it," Theory shrugged, peering at Valentine out of the corner of her eyes. What would he think of that? She knew better than most that parents were individuals with their own hopes, dreams, and hurts. Theo didn't - and couldn't - know the particulars of the choice Rhythm had made. There must have been personal motivations for the decision.