[Does she lament it? It’s strange, that that a woman who tries so desperately to beg for death, whose brows furrow and whose eyes plead does not seem to produce tears. But she doesn’t. Her eyes almost shimmer, but don’t, it’s probably just a trick of the light. Even with the return of her emotions, five years as a Regressor trying to relearn how to feel…
The woman who had once been known as Havoc had never managed the ruinous strength of feeling that would produce tears. Or perhaps, it was simply that she had gone too long without them, and she had simply forgotten how.
Either way, she manages a pained, whimpering nod when he asks about how much she desired to be rid of the powers she manages to reference in snatches of words, struggling to fight the black sludge and the call of Hell’s Gate both while also trying to communicate.]
I will… the second it makes sense, the second it’s me or someone else, I will…
[She remembers just enough, snatches of orders and circumstances and ultimatums and ambushes, and for a Contractor… the choice between the self and another was never one that required consideration.
She would kill, and then she would pay her obeisance, and her mouth would know the taste of blood again-]
And I won’t… I won’t care at all…
[She tries to plead once more, get another “please” past her lips- but she coughs up the sludge instead, thick and foul on her tongue.]
no subject
The woman who had once been known as Havoc had never managed the ruinous strength of feeling that would produce tears. Or perhaps, it was simply that she had gone too long without them, and she had simply forgotten how.
Either way, she manages a pained, whimpering nod when he asks about how much she desired to be rid of the powers she manages to reference in snatches of words, struggling to fight the black sludge and the call of Hell’s Gate both while also trying to communicate.]
I will… the second it makes sense, the second it’s me or someone else, I will…
[She remembers just enough, snatches of orders and circumstances and ultimatums and ambushes, and for a Contractor… the choice between the self and another was never one that required consideration.
She would kill, and then she would pay her obeisance, and her mouth would know the taste of blood again-]
And I won’t… I won’t care at all…
[She tries to plead once more, get another “please” past her lips- but she coughs up the sludge instead, thick and foul on her tongue.]