[In a strange way... Havoc was grateful for the time she'd spent as a Regressor, even if it had left her body in this state. Her act was far more convincing with five years of emotion-tinted memories to draw from... even if, looking back on them now, it is more like viewing a movie about a different woman entirely, rather than being able to connect to it as herself. The brain of a Contractor simply did not understand why she had felt that way or done those things...
But it can recreate the movement of the muscles, the tone of voice. Mostly.]
I do miss cheese pies...
[If that kind of thing was popular with the people here, she could always use it to ingratiate herself... But, first things first. She finishes off her oatmeal and sets the bowl down atop a cleaned plate, beginning to slowly stack the dishes with her unbroken hand in preparation for taking them back to the kitchens, their first stop. Sensible choice. Supposedly there were servants here, but it wouldn't do to act as if she were callous or used to such things...]
A library sounds nice... and training grounds...
[She hums quietly, as if unsure, as she stops collecting dishes to look at her own hands, her thin arms.]
... I suppose if this is a war... I'll need to get back in shape, won't I?
[As if that was a somewhat sad, but understandably necessary thing.]
no subject
[In a strange way... Havoc was grateful for the time she'd spent as a Regressor, even if it had left her body in this state. Her act was far more convincing with five years of emotion-tinted memories to draw from... even if, looking back on them now, it is more like viewing a movie about a different woman entirely, rather than being able to connect to it as herself. The brain of a Contractor simply did not understand why she had felt that way or done those things...
But it can recreate the movement of the muscles, the tone of voice. Mostly.]
I do miss cheese pies...
[If that kind of thing was popular with the people here, she could always use it to ingratiate herself... But, first things first. She finishes off her oatmeal and sets the bowl down atop a cleaned plate, beginning to slowly stack the dishes with her unbroken hand in preparation for taking them back to the kitchens, their first stop. Sensible choice. Supposedly there were servants here, but it wouldn't do to act as if she were callous or used to such things...]
A library sounds nice... and training grounds...
[She hums quietly, as if unsure, as she stops collecting dishes to look at her own hands, her thin arms.]
... I suppose if this is a war... I'll need to get back in shape, won't I?
[As if that was a somewhat sad, but understandably necessary thing.]