fluttering your lashes like ashes and embers

Of course she was free to think as she would. Even Alastor in all his seemingly limitless power couldn't affect that. Lotte would do and think as she pleased, she didn't need his leave for that.

" I do know it." Lotte had said as much, hadn't she? She wouldn't have trusted any lawmen, even if her life depended on it, and she trusted the system in place to enforce or prosecute people in the name of justice even less. After all, a system developed and run by men was as susceptible to corruption as the man himself.

"Everything's subjective, anyway. There's always at least two ways of looking at anything. Those men that rove around hunting witches, the ones down south that hunt anyone with darker skin... some of them probably know what they're doing is evil. Some of 'em genuinely think they're doing the work of god." Lotte got up, walked over and poured them both another glass of whiskey. "And if you asked around here I can tell you what people's opinion about it would be."

She grabbed the glasses and made her way over to Alastor, handing him the glass before tapping them together and throwing her own back. It would have to be her last, or she might not be able to keep her head about her enough to get Alastor to bed.

"But somewhere else, somewhere in a bigger city, somewhere where everyone didn't look the same... it might be a different story."

Lotte leaned heavily against the dresser, holding herself up on it by her elbows as she looked at the ceiling.

"All you can do is what you think is right. You think it's right to kill a certain type of person, and I don't disagree with you." She shrugged, running her nail around the rim of her glass. "Whatever we are, we're probably going back to hell one of these days."

Her eyes slid down to him on the bed, and she huffed a laugh. "Well, I am anyway. Maybe you're not, now that I've gotten you out."