fluttering your lashes like ashes and embers

Lotte stared back at him, unblinking, in answer to his challenge. He was limited in what he could do right now. How much, she couldn't say, but she was fairly certain between his more physical form and pure exhaustion she could wrangle him into that bed and keep him there if need be. Alastor liked games and technicalities - so she'd humor him for a bit longer - but seeing him so vulnerable at that crossroads... there was a gnawing instinct to care for him still.

Lotte perched an elbow on her knee and rested her chin in her palm, listening.

"I don't know that I think you're evil, no."

Perhaps she should have. A good girl would have, but a good girl Lotte was not. Of course she knew precious few details of Alastor's life when he was alive, so perhaps she was wrong, but murdering bad people didn't seem particularly heinous to her. That wasn't to say she could have done it herself. Killing a man in self-preservation or protection did feel different to her than killing someone who didn't pose a direct threat to her... but for every instance Lotte had escaped violence, certainly there were girls who had not. She thought it quite reasonable indeed, that such people be punished. Was that evil?

When the lawmen were complicit, or at best indifferent, who did people have to turn to but someone like Alastor?

"Then again, maybe you are. Maybe I am, too. The law usually falls woefully short of delivering justice to those who need it most. If murder creates a net good.." Lotte shrugged, "I can't find much fault in that."

"I actually like the idea I got to play a small part in it." What positive impact had she had on the world so far? What had she done, really, other than protect a few hundred people from storms for a few years? People no one knew, who wouldn't be remembered. What Alastor would do, though? That was something that could make a better, if bloodier, mark on the world.