[she doesn't reply right away, but it's clear from the knitting of her brow that she's giving it a lot of consideration as they go. following a lead feels easy, the chit-chat is simultaneously nervewracking and natural - like she has a script to follow that's been scattered and lost in the dark, but she's read it enough to pick up pieces and get by.]
We've done this before, you and I. That's...what it feels like.
[she can't be completely certain, but she feels convinced to some degree; the Cecelia she was before this lived a hundred different lives and roles, danced a thousand dances with hundreds of partners, and so many of them had similar eyes and smiles; in this fog, it's too much to imagine much more than one, so for now, this is a singular point to try and--
ah...
she misses a step, the hammering in her head more like a pickaxe behind her eye, prompting her to squeeze both shut and suck a breath sharply through her teeth.]
no subject
We've done this before, you and I. That's...what it feels like.
[she can't be completely certain, but she feels convinced to some degree; the Cecelia she was before this lived a hundred different lives and roles, danced a thousand dances with hundreds of partners, and so many of them had similar eyes and smiles; in this fog, it's too much to imagine much more than one, so for now, this is a singular point to try and--
ah...
she misses a step, the hammering in her head more like a pickaxe behind her eye, prompting her to squeeze both shut and suck a breath sharply through her teeth.]