Daisy nods—that's what she thought. The violence may still be there, may always be there, but when stepping beyond her biases she can no more condemn Fever for that than she can shake her own vicious tendencies. They are monsters. They are changing. It's only in the last couple of years that Daisy has accepted that those statements are not mutually exclusive.
"...I used to be so much worse than I am now," she says, after a moment. "Hunters are— we're the monsters that even the other monsters are scared of. We can kill anything. Even the most powerful Avatars of other Fears. Some get smart. Hold something over us to get us to do their dirty work. Or make us an offer too good to ignore. But others— they just end up prey. A. Lot. Of Avatars end up Prey."
The Hunt makes monsters that hunt monsters. The vampires, lacking any real spark of life or any history of humanity, are just the beginning. In the end, you always end up with the blood of other people like you drying between your teeth.
"And I was good at what I did. Still am. But back then—" She shakes her head. She didn't hold back. She didn't care about collateral damage. She Hunted, and she killed, and she kept running. "Took me being buried alive for eight. Months. Down where my god couldn't reach me. For me to start realising— I. Was a monster too. And maybe I always would be. But I didn't want to be— what the Hunt wanted, anymore. I wanted to be— me. Whoever that even was."
no subject
Daisy nods—that's what she thought. The violence may still be there, may always be there, but when stepping beyond her biases she can no more condemn Fever for that than she can shake her own vicious tendencies. They are monsters. They are changing. It's only in the last couple of years that Daisy has accepted that those statements are not mutually exclusive.
"...I used to be so much worse than I am now," she says, after a moment. "Hunters are— we're the monsters that even the other monsters are scared of. We can kill anything. Even the most powerful Avatars of other Fears. Some get smart. Hold something over us to get us to do their dirty work. Or make us an offer too good to ignore. But others— they just end up prey. A. Lot. Of Avatars end up Prey."
The Hunt makes monsters that hunt monsters. The vampires, lacking any real spark of life or any history of humanity, are just the beginning. In the end, you always end up with the blood of other people like you drying between your teeth.
"And I was good at what I did. Still am. But back then—" She shakes her head. She didn't hold back. She didn't care about collateral damage. She Hunted, and she killed, and she kept running. "Took me being buried alive for eight. Months. Down where my god couldn't reach me. For me to start realising— I. Was a monster too. And maybe I always would be. But I didn't want to be— what the Hunt wanted, anymore. I wanted to be— me. Whoever that even was."