There’s another rush of words, thoughts, (Parautilitarian? She doesn’t know that word) and she recognizes the same style of jumbled words (GIFTED/CURSED/REGRETFUL) as she’d read on his notepad, as she’d heard in her vision, all underscored by that feedback again and she sculls her drink. Thoughts. His thoughts. Darling’s thoughts. She’s never... read someone like that before. Words yes. A name. Phrases. Not... sentences. Full thoughts. Continual thoughts.
Or maybe she’s just never noticed before.
THAT idea is... unsettling.
“Something like mind control. But different.” It’s stabbing in the dark but it feels right. (It feels red.) There are other words on her tongue; hiss, Hedron, that mean nothing to her but mean something all the same, but she bites them back. Better to not press him too quickly. She’s already made him choke on his whiskey once. She’d rather not do that a second time.
no subject
Or maybe she’s just never noticed before.
THAT idea is... unsettling.
“Something like mind control. But different.” It’s stabbing in the dark but it feels right. (It feels red.) There are other words on her tongue; hiss, Hedron, that mean nothing to her but mean something all the same, but she bites them back. Better to not press him too quickly. She’s already made him choke on his whiskey once. She’d rather not do that a second time.