Welcome to Gaia! ::

The Argus prototype of the week was still only half-completed, assorted thin and colorful wires sprouting from every unchecked surface. It had been a while since he had been able to return to fixing it up. Given the state of his hand, most of Lucky's usual endeavors had been out of the question. But he persevered as best he could, because routine was familiar, and safe, and
he needed as much of both as he could get right now.

It was for the same reasons Lucky never complained about Mimsy's presence. He had been wary at first, guilty even, that he was dragging her into a mess of his own creation. He didn't deserve her help. But there was something comforting about not being alone right now.

At least, that had been the thought process before New Years... and 'sensitivity training'...

The screwdriver stopped turning.

"Yes," he began, tentatively. How could he not have? The events of the past week had turned clear, straight lines of information into a tangled mess in his mind. It seemed difficult for him to make himself seem any smaller, but he managed, in the same instinctive way an octopus changed colors to disappear into its surroundings. He set the screwdriver down and shifted slightly nervously where he sat. "Some..."

"The things you said... before... about me..." He was resting his elbows on the countertop, running the fingers of one hand loosely over the scars that formed a neat μ in his own skin. A presence overlapped his, one that had been waiting patiently but silently. There was a flare of imagery, the concept of a voice, of claws wrapping around and digging into his hand to pry the memory from them, and hot blood running freely from it.

Have you chosen to forget? she asked, not in words, but ideas and feelings that ran much deeper between them so as to circumvent language entirely. Not to warn him or even dissuade him, but simply curious. Is it worth it?

His hands froze, clasped one over the other.

"Vere they true?"