Aradia hovers anxiously near the back of the rescue party. It's funny, she's never really been one to worry about quadrants—after all, she has almost always known there was something else meant for her, for all of them—but her partnership, her—friendship, maybe is the right word for it, with Tavros has always been important. But she hasn't...been there for him for a while. A long, long while.
She'd thought—here, they might get something of that back, but this is what's happening instead. She doesn't know if she can even be of help here.
She watches the scene from the shadows for a while, then shakes herself. It's unfair of her to have half given up already, to be so defeatist when she knows so much about second chances first-hand. She's fought her way in here with everyone, and now the only way they will come out is with Tavros in tow, although she's not really sure of how this is supposed to work, exactly.
Aradia edges around the rescue party, until she thinks Tavros can see her.
"He isn't," she calls out, addressing the version of Tavros so bent on destruction. Then, softer, "You aren't, you know."
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She'd thought—here, they might get something of that back, but this is what's happening instead. She doesn't know if she can even be of help here.
She watches the scene from the shadows for a while, then shakes herself. It's unfair of her to have half given up already, to be so defeatist when she knows so much about second chances first-hand. She's fought her way in here with everyone, and now the only way they will come out is with Tavros in tow, although she's not really sure of how this is supposed to work, exactly.
Aradia edges around the rescue party, until she thinks Tavros can see her.
"He isn't," she calls out, addressing the version of Tavros so bent on destruction. Then, softer, "You aren't, you know."