She was just beginning to savor the last bite, enjoying his own nodding reaction. After all, hadn't she told him as much about her personal life? Surely a few more details hadn't been remiss; she had just enjoyed the last taste of noodles, before the table clattered and she flinched slightly back in surprise, eyes snapping up to meet his widely. It was only then that the real scope of his emotions hit, and her face paled.
Someone special... she swallowed, the taste from the meal suddenly chased from her senses as she gently set down her chopsticks delicately, gaze lowered to the now-empty wok. Someone special. She wasn't. Not to any value of her mother's, really, apart from... alliances. Connections. A way to further a bloodline, if only using her Arkanian genetics and not her tainted other genes. Once again, the cold matriarch of Morata loomed, cold and impassive, at the forefront of her mind, and a small frisson of unease slithered down her back. A cold voice, low and soft but no less devastating, echoing in an empty hall.
"You've been a valuable mistake of genetics, Darling," she intoned passively, not even looking at her but away, at some more interesting shadow. "But I was displeased at your manners; you do not speak to them. They are beneath even you. You are a doll to them; do not forget that they are mere puppets."
"I'm..." she hesitated, fidgeting in her seat slightly. She wanted to get out all of a sudden. There was a weight in her stomach and a constriction in her throat, and she felt like she wanted to escape those words, that eagerness. Was her mother's life something special? Perhaps it was.
Pretty golden bars for a pretty, small bird. She had tried to be special, but even now there was no approval. No special treatment after all.
"I'm really not," she finally protested quietly, forcing herself to meet his gaze. She saw and felt the wonder, the excitement, and wondered if he thought she belonged in that world, the world of empty halls and cold rooms. "I was just... Hers," she finally finished, swallowing hard. "Until I wasn't. Then, I could do what I wanted." It was the best she could explain, but there was unmistakeable sudden tension in the doctor. Her shoulders went stiff, brows dented slightly.
"I'm not like you... you're someone special," she continued quietly, then rose to pick up her plate.
As she moved, her hand shook ever so slightly. Even after all that time, and all that distance, Mother still affected her. Still brought a feeling of dread to lay heavy in her chest. She knew he was trying to figure her out, to be sweet, but it still ached to think about. Perhaps she could share some of that past, but she had to brace herself first.
@TerranSteel
Someone special... she swallowed, the taste from the meal suddenly chased from her senses as she gently set down her chopsticks delicately, gaze lowered to the now-empty wok. Someone special. She wasn't. Not to any value of her mother's, really, apart from... alliances. Connections. A way to further a bloodline, if only using her Arkanian genetics and not her tainted other genes. Once again, the cold matriarch of Morata loomed, cold and impassive, at the forefront of her mind, and a small frisson of unease slithered down her back. A cold voice, low and soft but no less devastating, echoing in an empty hall.
"You've been a valuable mistake of genetics, Darling," she intoned passively, not even looking at her but away, at some more interesting shadow. "But I was displeased at your manners; you do not speak to them. They are beneath even you. You are a doll to them; do not forget that they are mere puppets."
"I'm..." she hesitated, fidgeting in her seat slightly. She wanted to get out all of a sudden. There was a weight in her stomach and a constriction in her throat, and she felt like she wanted to escape those words, that eagerness. Was her mother's life something special? Perhaps it was.
Pretty golden bars for a pretty, small bird. She had tried to be special, but even now there was no approval. No special treatment after all.
"I'm really not," she finally protested quietly, forcing herself to meet his gaze. She saw and felt the wonder, the excitement, and wondered if he thought she belonged in that world, the world of empty halls and cold rooms. "I was just... Hers," she finally finished, swallowing hard. "Until I wasn't. Then, I could do what I wanted." It was the best she could explain, but there was unmistakeable sudden tension in the doctor. Her shoulders went stiff, brows dented slightly.
"I'm not like you... you're someone special," she continued quietly, then rose to pick up her plate.
As she moved, her hand shook ever so slightly. Even after all that time, and all that distance, Mother still affected her. Still brought a feeling of dread to lay heavy in her chest. She knew he was trying to figure her out, to be sweet, but it still ached to think about. Perhaps she could share some of that past, but she had to brace herself first.
@TerranSteel