[Even that... It could have been hacked, somehow, that information that had been York's recordings that Epsilon had been able to dig up. Her guard isn't let down, as how can it be?]
... if I'd hold it against you.
[A myriad of emotions in those few single words. Still that hard stubbornness that refuses to budge and believe that this isn't some trick. A faint wavering, as it was the last thing that Carolina really had from York, even if he didn't know it. He'd been killed already at that point of time, dying believing that she had met her end on that cliff.
But, it still doesn't make sense.
Is she dead? Is that what this is? Some, what, afterlife? One would think you'd recall dying, or recall nothing at all, but she can't say that she's religious or that she's spent time meditating over the meaning of it.
She might be weaponless, save for her hook, but she's not without her resources, and there's nothing that she's picked up that would make her hesitate, so her hands do move, slowly, to work her helmet free. Not that she's on board with this whole situation, but...
In some ways, she is much the same. Red hair and bright green eyes. Still that stiff set to her jaw, that piercing look, but it's on a closer look that the passage of time can be seen in those faint lines that are etched there. Her hand dangles, fingers curled around the edge of the helmet, hard.]
no subject
... if I'd hold it against you.
[A myriad of emotions in those few single words. Still that hard stubbornness that refuses to budge and believe that this isn't some trick. A faint wavering, as it was the last thing that Carolina really had from York, even if he didn't know it. He'd been killed already at that point of time, dying believing that she had met her end on that cliff.
But, it still doesn't make sense.
Is she dead? Is that what this is? Some, what, afterlife? One would think you'd recall dying, or recall nothing at all, but she can't say that she's religious or that she's spent time meditating over the meaning of it.
She might be weaponless, save for her hook, but she's not without her resources, and there's nothing that she's picked up that would make her hesitate, so her hands do move, slowly, to work her helmet free. Not that she's on board with this whole situation, but...
In some ways, she is much the same. Red hair and bright green eyes. Still that stiff set to her jaw, that piercing look, but it's on a closer look that the passage of time can be seen in those faint lines that are etched there. Her hand dangles, fingers curled around the edge of the helmet, hard.]
How?