Gerry's voice is quiet as he finally moves from where his feet had very nearly fused to the floor. He approaches, helping her find buckles and loosen hard to reach straps, until all that's left is the same black morph suit he's wearing. His own leg armor is still on, tan plastic clattering noisily. No good for ballet.
War, he thinks again, is so stupid. It took a strong, determined girl, and destroyed her. Someone talented, funny, and interesting, rebuilt as an ouroboros, building herself anew just to have the strength to consume and destroy older parts of herself that she deems unworthy. Unable to realize that this isn't progress. The size of the circle hasn't changed. Does she blame herself or does she blame York? Does it matter?
"...It doesn't feel like it right now. Because of shit like this. But you're free here, you know that right? There's no war, there's no one to tell you how to live your life. Your past is just your past and nothing else. No chains."
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Gerry's voice is quiet as he finally moves from where his feet had very nearly fused to the floor. He approaches, helping her find buckles and loosen hard to reach straps, until all that's left is the same black morph suit he's wearing. His own leg armor is still on, tan plastic clattering noisily. No good for ballet.
War, he thinks again, is so stupid. It took a strong, determined girl, and destroyed her. Someone talented, funny, and interesting, rebuilt as an ouroboros, building herself anew just to have the strength to consume and destroy older parts of herself that she deems unworthy. Unable to realize that this isn't progress. The size of the circle hasn't changed. Does she blame herself or does she blame York? Does it matter?
"...It doesn't feel like it right now. Because of shit like this. But you're free here, you know that right? There's no war, there's no one to tell you how to live your life. Your past is just your past and nothing else. No chains."