There's a twitch in her expression, a shift, a different kind of tension that's not fear or nervousness or anything else, but a focus. An alert, the feeling of a gaze met across a crowded room. And there's a great crashing in her head, shattering glass, lightning struck and the ozone burning in the aftermath.
Kinship, potentially. If she raises her hands to the mirror, will others come to meet her.
There's a pause when Daisy finishes, and Fever leans back on her hands, addresses her words to the sky.
"...I'm a monster too."
That's really the only word for it, isn't it. She can play nice all she wants, but at the end of the day, she's still a hunting hound for horrors. Still the horror herself. If she thinks too hard, she'll taste the blood behind her teeth.
"It...isn't a conversation for here."
This place of friendliness, of these people trying to welcome them in, allowing them to set their feet down after the Serena Eterna, sunlight and the chill of early spring. They can't hear it. Can't know. She's already going to place herself in a corner if that Dr. West hears about her and decides she's unfit to live among them. And telling Daisy about this -
It hits her in that moment that step by small step, she's been wanting to tell people the truth. Wanting again, to say something, and have it be understood. To slowly build a circle that sees her unmasked, and perhaps, at least, they do not chase her away so far.
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There's a twitch in her expression, a shift, a different kind of tension that's not fear or nervousness or anything else, but a focus. An alert, the feeling of a gaze met across a crowded room. And there's a great crashing in her head, shattering glass, lightning struck and the ozone burning in the aftermath.
Kinship, potentially. If she raises her hands to the mirror, will others come to meet her.
There's a pause when Daisy finishes, and Fever leans back on her hands, addresses her words to the sky.
"...I'm a monster too."
That's really the only word for it, isn't it. She can play nice all she wants, but at the end of the day, she's still a hunting hound for horrors. Still the horror herself. If she thinks too hard, she'll taste the blood behind her teeth.
"It...isn't a conversation for here."
This place of friendliness, of these people trying to welcome them in, allowing them to set their feet down after the Serena Eterna, sunlight and the chill of early spring. They can't hear it. Can't know. She's already going to place herself in a corner if that Dr. West hears about her and decides she's unfit to live among them. And telling Daisy about this -
It hits her in that moment that step by small step, she's been wanting to tell people the truth. Wanting again, to say something, and have it be understood. To slowly build a circle that sees her unmasked, and perhaps, at least, they do not chase her away so far.