#o: l.rivkin

[izaralevine]

Ask ; answered ❛ there’s no black or white, only gray. ❜ Continued from: HERE

Izara's flicking through the invoices on the workbench (no office in sight) looking for the stated name — dark fingerprint marks are catching the corner of the yellow-white sheets. An ear is listening out, and it might have been an accident to engage in a topic Izara's out of her depth with.

Eyes shift between the papers, and Lara, edged over the mechanic's worktop. God, I have no fucking idea what you're saying. "Right." Agree — disagree? "But — you don't think authoritarianism... is grey? You think it's black and white?" Rules and regulations, obey or disobey. At its core. Iz is muttering, torn between two things at once: "The last time someone wanted to put brackets on what they thought was right in regard to herding people, they called it something else."

Where the hell is that invoice?

Kit's forgotten the first name at this point, hoping that glancing the papers would stir the memory of what Lara's told her it is. She'd thought she'd left politics at the MET.

"Ah here," She slips the invoice out, and slides it to where Lara's resting. "Let me know if you have any questions," a beat, "— about the bill." Another beat, "— on the Corolla."

@lararivkin