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#automatic translation software i assume wouldn't know who she was referencing but they all do obviously so best just to leave the 'he' out
merge-conflict · 11 months
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wip wednesday
got tagged by @wanderingaldecaldo :3
been.. well not exactly procrastinating on the longfic. some of what i've been doing is working on some sequel scenes so I can anchor where everyone is going to end up and make sure I haven't forgotten to add any threads I'm going to want to use later. so with the knowledge that this scene will almost certainly not survive in its current form when I get there...
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V returned with the woman who had met her at the ofrenda– his interface confirmed what he already knew– it was Guadalupe Alejandra Welles herself. She was smaller than he had expected, but it would be a mistake to underestimate her, he was certain. A woman who had suffered the loss of her son in an assault on Arasaka and was bold enough to then track him down and demand that loss be honored was not someone to to be taken lightly. He rose to his feet to greet them.
“Mamá,” V said, speaking Spanish in a low, soft tone he’d never heard from her before. “This is Takemura.”
“Escorted you personally?” Guadalupe regarded him with restrained disapproval. “What a gentleman.”
“A perfect gentleman,” V said, a faint smile forming on her lips.
“It is good to meet you,” Goro said, with a polite bow.
Guadalupe made a dismissive gesture, switching to English. “There’s only one thing I need to know: were you the one that killed my son?” She held his gaze without flinching.
“No,” he said. “We did not meet.”
“Good.” She relaxed, and in so doing gave him a glimpse of the exhausted and grieving woman underneath her steely composure. V looked mortified and miserable with guilt, and she added more gently, “Sit down, mije.”
V looked to Goro and he moved instinctively, gently guiding her to sit down at the bench he had just vacated. Her hand on his wrist lingered, the barest pressure pulling him down along beside her: gravity which he did not want to escape. She leaned in and pressed her forehead against his, jaw clamped together so tightly he heard her teeth creaking. He wanted to reassure her that she did not have to hide her tears, but did not trust his voice.
“Jesucristo. You’re as big a fool as Jackie. Bigger.”
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