[he weighs the risks of saying too much and rushing them into a situation he isn't sure he understands, versus the desire to tell the Captain everything so that he can be prepared for whatever might come. his argument with Ava is looping over and over in his head, tangled with the multiple visions of his first family's death.]
A woman working in a laboratory, somewhere in the late 1800s. There was a child struggling to keep their eyes from glowing. The woman ordered the child into a magic circle.... something about funding and departments and tests. She was apparently upset when her purchased familiar failed to keep their form under extreme magical duress. And apparently, the child's natural form was made of shadow.
Not much. It was only a few years. She completed her dissertation, I was allocated to a few more students... Then sold again to fund the war effort during... one of the World Wars. I always mix them up.
Hm. Well, they could only get so far using other people as fuel.
[hah. that's some dramatic irony. Gordon would love that.
(Gordon also loved giving his heroes a glimmer of hope before burying him with grief. Skulduggery's just trying to avoid thinking about that similarity...)]
I was sort of hoping that memory would be the puzzle piece we needed. I can't help but think there's a reason why certain memories are cropping up...
[a pause. bending the corner of a page to save his place, he places the book on the ground.]
... I don't know. Something like... [he brings a hand up to his chest, then slowly balls it into a tight fist.] Like the first few seconds after pain stops, when you're waiting for it to begin again.
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Nope.
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Well, see? That answers that question.
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[a pause. tilts head slightly.]
What was it?
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A woman working in a laboratory, somewhere in the late 1800s. There was a child struggling to keep their eyes from glowing. The woman ordered the child into a magic circle.... something about funding and departments and tests. She was apparently upset when her purchased familiar failed to keep their form under extreme magical duress. And apparently, the child's natural form was made of shadow.
[he taps his foot against a stack of manga.]
So, you can see why I suspect it belongs to you.
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[pause]
I thought it was stupid to call her Master. Technically, my master was the alchemical department. She was just a grad student.
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...What do you remember about her?
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I'm sorry.
[no amount of sympathy will change the past, though. ...present circumstances excluded.]
Do you remember what she was trying to do?
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[hah. that's some dramatic irony. Gordon would love that.
(Gordon also loved giving his heroes a glimmer of hope before burying him with grief. Skulduggery's just trying to avoid thinking about that similarity...)]
I was sort of hoping that memory would be the puzzle piece we needed. I can't help but think there's a reason why certain memories are cropping up...
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It doesn't feel particularly important to me.
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No, I guess not.
[he turns away from the stacks to look at him.]
Does it feel like anything, when you think about those memories? Do you feel anything?
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... I don't know. Something like... [he brings a hand up to his chest, then slowly balls it into a tight fist.] Like the first few seconds after pain stops, when you're waiting for it to begin again.
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(trying very hard not to think about burning thatch and Serpine laughing at him.)]
I wish there was a way to ease that ache, but instead, I'll just be glad you still feel it. You've been around a long time and given up too much.
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[...]
It's awful. I can see why I always tried to avoid it.
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[he could say that the pain makes the nice memories all the sweeter, or that it can be turned into motivation to change.
he moves back to the couch.]
I don't know if enough time can pass for it to ever stop aching. But it's part of you, whether you've forgotten it or not.
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You sound like a fortune cookie.
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Oh, shut up. The point I'm getting at is... I love you. All of you. Including those painful parts.
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And I love a fortune cookie.
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[look he's going to try to turn it into a flirtatious comment, even if it falls flat on its cookie face.]
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cw: this is the part when things get spicy
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