[There's a definite quiet as she tries to think of how to respond, like she's running calculations in her head. Risk versus worth. She's never told anyone. She's never even told Dominic. He just... found out on his own.
There are so many safe options. So many that are half truths. And meanwhile, the memory is--is replaying around her, and isn't that just great?
Oh brother.]
He created me.
[There's something cold, something distant to those words, and she's staring at nothing like she's seeing through the memory itself, into the Storm, through dimensions, and into a place that has her mind barely there at all.
But now there are cracks, skittering up buildings, along the ground, and they weren't there on the first play of the memory.]
no subject
There are so many safe options. So many that are half truths. And meanwhile, the memory is--is replaying around her, and isn't that just great?
Oh brother.]
He created me.
[There's something cold, something distant to those words, and she's staring at nothing like she's seeing through the memory itself, into the Storm, through dimensions, and into a place that has her mind barely there at all.
But now there are cracks, skittering up buildings, along the ground, and they weren't there on the first play of the memory.]