[ Sensing the broiling battle for control from within Tonegawa himself, even at this distance, takes its toll on her belatedly. With that lash out against her own paced, smooth voice, she parts her lips as though to speak in her defence. It catches the bartender's attention, but a tense wave of her hand throws him off again, a gesture towards her still-full glass.
She's misjudged her abilities. Retaining her external as well as internal composure is unbelievably, incredibly difficult, like conducting three orchestras at once; her body, her thoughts, and Tonegawa's. To think that she believed she could mimic anything approaching the magnitude of Leeza's powers with this Core-given imitation of something her father had created. She, a human, made of Huey's blood, not his craftsmanship.
The pause between answers this time is longer. A fingernail taps at the side of her glass, her eyes narrow slightly, gaze unmoving.
I hear nothing but what you tell me. There is more danger of telling you my own secrets than learning of yours.
She may as well be whispering in a storm. The incident in the office springs to mind, the sheer thickness of willpower and delusion she had to cut through in order to reach him, but it's inadvertently transmitted; unable to backtrack she nearly gasps, tenses in her seat. She had acted as though she had erased the event from memory. ]
no subject
She's misjudged her abilities. Retaining her external as well as internal composure is unbelievably, incredibly difficult, like conducting three orchestras at once; her body, her thoughts, and Tonegawa's. To think that she believed she could mimic anything approaching the magnitude of Leeza's powers with this Core-given imitation of something her father had created. She, a human, made of Huey's blood, not his craftsmanship.
The pause between answers this time is longer. A fingernail taps at the side of her glass, her eyes narrow slightly, gaze unmoving.
I hear nothing but what you tell me. There is more danger of telling you my own secrets than learning of yours.
She may as well be whispering in a storm. The incident in the office springs to mind, the sheer thickness of willpower and delusion she had to cut through in order to reach him, but it's inadvertently transmitted; unable to backtrack she nearly gasps, tenses in her seat. She had acted as though she had erased the event from memory. ]