Lotte couldn't know the true depths of depravity that could exist in a place like New Orleans, she supposed, having never been there. Having never been much of anywhere. She knew cruel men, callous women, corrupt lawmen. The desperation that came with hunger and scarcity and the fear of an uncaring god. People out here killed each other, stole each other for anything that might help them survive. But in the end, that was part of why she hadn't just burned this place to the ground.
Humans were no better than animals, most of the time, when they were fighting for survival. The closest she'd come to malicious, intentional ne'er do wellers had been sad, angry, drunk men who thought they might take advantage of an unprotected girl. The witch hunters, too, but Lotte'd managed to avoid a skirmish with them. Each was a form of evil, to be sure, but if there were men that made careers out of evildoings, Lotte hadn't come across them.
The way Alastor said it, Lotte thought was rather like her asking about the houses in New Orleans. She'd simply have to see it, to believe it.
"An act of public service, hm? How very considerate of you. It appears I've done New Orleans a favor, unleashing you upon it once more."
Lotte draped the dress over the back of the chair again, before sliding around to face him.
"After that cigarette's out, I'm putting you to bed, just so you know. Consider this your fair warning."
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Lotte couldn't know the true depths of depravity that could exist in a place like New Orleans, she supposed, having never been there. Having never been much of anywhere. She knew cruel men, callous women, corrupt lawmen. The desperation that came with hunger and scarcity and the fear of an uncaring god. People out here killed each other, stole each other for anything that might help them survive. But in the end, that was part of why she hadn't just burned this place to the ground.
Humans were no better than animals, most of the time, when they were fighting for survival. The closest she'd come to malicious, intentional ne'er do wellers had been sad, angry, drunk men who thought they might take advantage of an unprotected girl. The witch hunters, too, but Lotte'd managed to avoid a skirmish with them. Each was a form of evil, to be sure, but if there were men that made careers out of evildoings, Lotte hadn't come across them.
The way Alastor said it, Lotte thought was rather like her asking about the houses in New Orleans. She'd simply have to see it, to believe it.
"An act of public service, hm? How very considerate of you. It appears I've done New Orleans a favor, unleashing you upon it once more."
Lotte draped the dress over the back of the chair again, before sliding around to face him.
"After that cigarette's out, I'm putting you to bed, just so you know. Consider this your fair warning."