( nothing more entertaining than fun psychological conversations for some, and nothing quite as cathartic as cracking the seal on deeply internalized trauma and freely admitting to personal failures of morality for others. for whatever it's worth, she'd tried to serve mizuki answers as unbiasedly as possible, he just ended up having a very odd sense of heroism and a propensity to project which... she'd failed to actively discourage.

on a fresh page of interaction, there's nothing more mortifying than standing between two people and weathering (ugh) compliments. in fact, it's a physical struggle not to pull her mouth into the slightest of sneers. and looking up to catch bellamy's eyes, she offers the slightest shakes of her head. a denial, hand in hand with an admission: i tried... to tell mizuki he was wrong. tried to impress on him there were no such things as heroes, and that in the end she'd killed more people with those decisions than she'd ever saved. but that chipper disposition gives 'way to a childish sort of innocence at the most inconvenient times, and it's proven hard to fight with him when so much as a slightly raised voice sends him shrinking into the shadows. later she might try to better explain to bellamy how she and the blue haired boy ended up in this weird but tightly bound sort of relationship, but... it'd require more candor than she's willing to divulge in front of mizuki himself.

she doesn't want to hurt his feelings.

nor look a gift guard-dog in the mouth, when he'd proved to be a better foot solider than a listener. )

Anyway. ( let's not linger here, moving on quickly and gesturing to each of them in turn — )

Mizuki is the ( jellyfish, but she's an ounce of respect for how he chooses to introduce himself. ) sea jelly I told you about.

And Bellamy's from my home. We first met when we landed on Earth, and he's been my friend, confidant, and co-leader to our people since. ( arguably with a few breaks here and there, but. semantics. )