[He watches her with keen eyes and growing fascination. No, this is very different from how the Amelia he knows casts, with such ease that she makes it look as natural as breathing. This is a student who proceeds with the precise, careful consideration of someone who's still learning, who doesn't want to make any unnecessary mistakes.
It's interesting to see this, and to know he can compare the difference between the past and present. What a difference it is.
Though, funnily enough, Henry listens as though he, too, is a rapt student of magic.]
It makes sense. I come from another world altogether, you know, and there isn't any magic there. Maybe no world really needs magic.
[But what does he know?]
So did the Witch King really just... make witches?
[While she struggles with her correction of the rune, she replies to Henry, trying to keep the frustration out of her voice.]
Yes, I'm rather certain... [Her finger pauses over one rune and she chastises herself again.]
Dammit, this one isn't chaining... Um, sorry about that. But I'm not too sure what that actually means. Are they extensions of himself? I've only started to get the impression that even other witches don't really want to be around him and so it's less reverence and more like fear. Maybe a mixture of both? Or have they spent so much time around humans they started to perceive him differently?
Sorry, I'm still theorizing at this point. I haven't gotten to talk to many other witches since I've started to stay here.
Also, watch out for your feet. I'm going to test one of these.
[One of the completed blocks of runes glimmers and directs it to her feet. The wooden floor starts to sprout grass and dots of white and yellow flowers and it spreads around the room. Though the blades look healthy and green, it's rather sparse and there are still patches of the wooden floor peeking through.
[Extensions of the Witch King? Now there’s a strange thought. Stranger still that they might have earned a new perspective living amongst humans. Henry, who sees humanity as not so great, can’t help but wonder if that’s even a good thing.
Well. Doesn’t matter. Amelia is different than the rest.
Flowers sprout nearby, grass tries to rise up from beneath his shoes. Henry steps back to admire the work.]
Pretty good to me. [He’s just a psychic. This is still very fantastical to him.] Still fond of flowers, aren’t you?
No, no, no, it's not good at all! [She looks upset, not at Henry but at herself.]
The flowers are... Yes, they're fine. That's how I envisioned them but at this point, I should be able to make this whole place a meadow without having to make more script!
[The young witch is pacing back and forth, crushing blades of grass and flowers beneath her feet while one arm is wrapped around herself and with her other hand, she gnaws on her thumb in utter frustration. She's absorbed in her work, trying to overcome what she currently lacks.]
Do I need to cross-reference with another language? That's going to take another few weeks to decipher and combine. Do I have to shorten it? No, lack of detail means more room for mistakes but if I write even more...!
[Amelia squats down and starts pulling out tufts of grass from the ground, directing her self-flagellation at her self-perceived poor results instead.]
God dammit, the flowers don't even have their own scent! So even that's no good!
[Reading, practicing, testing, and applying was all she could do during her isolation. With no one else around, she only has herself to belittle and berate, and even with a visitor in this memory she ends up doing much the same to herself.]
[Again, he just watches at first. Watches her prowl about and criticize herself and take out her frustrations on the flora below.
And he thinks to himself, This is where we differ. Henry had never been frustrated at what he lacked at the time, not when he was being tested and trained and forced to learn. He was patient; he knew there was plenty of time to grow, if nothing else, and that he would achieve whatever bar was set for him -- no, he would fly right over it.
But maybe it's not fair to compare. Maybe her mentor is just not present enough? He wonders.]
Amelia, it's all right. [This, he would tell the children in the lab so often. It's all right. Just try again.] I know you hate being trapped here, but at least it affords you time, right? You can take that time and try again.
[She remains frustrated but his voice and words calm her down. Amelia stops ripping the grass out of the floor and takes a few deep breaths. When he tells her that she can take her time, she laughs emptily.]
Time? Time... Yes. I can take my time. So much... Time.
[Standing up she lets her arms hang by her side and the grass sticks to her palms. Amelia touches her face and then looks at her palms.]
But it's been... How long now? How much time...?
[And before she can continue, there's a knock on the door.]
[And without ceremony, the door swings open, and in walks the Witch King, his crimson hair trailing through the grass.]
Hello, my dear! How goes your studies? Hm?
[The black void-like eyes glance briefly at Henry and he gives him a wave.]
Oh, keeping her company? Well, don't stay too long. She's hardworking but gets performance jitters you see!
[Amelia stands there frozen staring at her teacher before taking a few steps back to be near Henry. Meanwhile, without wasting any more time, the strange creature called the Witch King surveys the floor with the magically created grassy meadow while humming.]
[It’s her reaction that finally strikes something a little deeper than musing over the sameness—and some of the differences—between them. The way she sounds lost to the slow crawl of time, that moment of vulnerability… Henry so often usually revels in the despair of others, in them feeling what he’s felt before, but this time, her words needle in a bit deeper.
Is this… empathy??
And this strange sensation all but colors his greeting to the Witch King, whom he suspected would appear at least once in this memory. Henry remembers him clearly; there’s no surprise on his features.
His smile is thin.]
I think I can stay for however long I like. [This is a memory!! You can’t rush him out.] Do you really give her much time to take a break? The mind latches onto lessons better after a long rest.
[The teacher's foot scrapes across the grass in a half-circle. In response to the psychic's question, he looks up raising his brows.]
I suspect she takes plenty of breaks in between while I'm away. It's been what, two months now? Three??
[Amelia who's gritting her teeth mutters something like, "Five." The With King brightens up and nods.]
Ah, yes, I've given her plenty of space. I don't hover like I used to when she was a tiny thing or in her terrible teens. After all, Amelia's a big girl now! Well. She has been for a long, time at this point. Huh.
[For a moment, even he's lost in momentary thought about the passage of time for his student.]
When she doesn't have trouble getting past the front door, I'd imagine. But with shoddy work like this...
[He answers so breezily, implying that she's been through several escape attempts. The man makes one tap on the floor and the grass that Amelia took great pains to create disappears into the wooden grain.]
... What kind of teacher would I be if I let her go with such subpar casting?
[Amelia's looking at her shoes, trying to avoid his attention now that he's talking with Henry... But no luck. The memory continues visitor or not.
The Witch King turns his attention to her. He leans down to look at her face, smiling and his voice is neither disappointed nor cruel, but neither is it concerned or comforting.]
Amy? Have you been hit another wall? That's been happening more often.
[Next to Henry, she's gripping her hands so hard, her nails are digging into her knuckles. But she nods.]
I'm... I can read the texts. Not quickly but I'm trying not to rush anything. But the results just haven't been what I wanted. I know I need to clear my mind, but...
[But the anxiety of hitting a plateau has been affecting her. The isolation and lack of visitors have twisted her insides with each passing minute, each hour, each month, each year, and now how long has it been?]
[Oh, he knows the problem without Amelia having to say much of anything at all. What lies beneath, the things she either isn't saying or remains unaware of herself.
Henry knows this is a memory and one that will continue on its track unless he steps in to derail it completely. He doesn't wish to do that, but there's still a part of him that wants to fling a passive-aggressive remark in, all the same.]
She needs more company. [He offers his opinion, whether or not it's asked for.] You know, the kind that doesn't come here with the intent to kill her.
[Amelia looks up when Henry interjects and she seems equal parts confused, grateful, and then fearful as she glances over at the Witch King who has straightened himself up.
It's hard to tell what it would have been like if Amelia had at least one other person or more for company. Maybe she would be more well-adjusted or it wouldn't have taken her as long. But the Witch King is a creature who creates standards that either change with the flip of a coin or he adheres to them out of his alien stubbornness.
Which is why he smiles at Henry while gently taking Amelia by the wrist, tugging her towards him.]
Oh, that was one of the ordeals she's endured so well though. I'm very proud of her for that. So if nothing else, all I'm asking her to do is to sharpen her focus with the material that's been gifted to her! She doesn't need any other distractions.
[He looks at Amelia who's watching her teacher and biting her lower lip.]
Remember Amy? The magic you have is a gift and I want you to shape it! It's been thirty years or so now? You may not feel like it but you're getting somewhere. You don't even have to worry about body decay! You're most fortunate and you really should be appreciative of the changes I've made to you.
[His student freezes at the realization of how much time has passed. The Witch King looks at Henry again while she wrestles with that confirmation.]
Well, if you're going to stay, you'll get to see how I help my precious student when she's in a rut. The problem is that she's thinking too hard and agonizing over too many details. Thus, I will give her one problem to solve.
[Thirty years? At least a decade more than how long he was trapped in a lab, plus some change. And how casually her mentor drops the bomb for Amelia to wrestle with it as he drones on and on.]
One where she can only think about one thing instead of too much.
[The Witch King lets go of Amelia's wrist and solely turns his attention to her. She takes one cautionary step back, absolutely uncertain about where this is going to go.]
Now then! Amy, be a good dear and ʄǟʟʟ ǟքǟʀȶ.
[There's an utterly alien quality in the tone of his voice and it reverberates through the room. The effects are immediate; something clatters on the ground and Amelia cries out in shock. One of her arms has literally fallen apart as if she's been cut up like meat. There's no blood splatter or viscera, but her sleeves are ripped and the flesh from within stays contained and pulsing, the life still flowing through it.
When she tries to protest, the Witch King, continues, blatantly speaking over her.]
I'll be giving your eyes a rest from reading, dear. For your current assignment, I'm going to ֆƈǟȶȶɛʀ ʏօʊʀ քɨɛƈɛֆ — [The power of his words causes her other arm to crumble into various sizes including half of her face. Amelia's too shocked, to react, too stunned at this lack of sensation and this unnatural damage to her body.]
— And you're going to put yourself back together. Can't very well think about anything else when you're not fully yourself!
[This was Amelia's teacher — a creature of flighty and cruel whims who during this time treated his only student with cavalier harshness. He expected nothing less than for her to pull herself out of the pits he dug for her, never mind her mental state, never mind her damaged heart.
And before she can make another sound, the Witch King waves his hand over her and it's her legs that go into pieces next. Amelia lays on her back, an armless, legless torso with only half a face. He acknowledges Henry briefly as her other body pieces start to move further apart (to make it more challenging).]
If she can't survive this, who knows what kind of bad people will do to her in the future?
This is the kind of memory that Henry harvests when he delves into someone's mind. The trauma and pain and shock, twisted up and utilized as a weapon. With one like this, Amelia literally falling apart before his own eyes, he'd not even have to change a thing. She's giving him a knife that he could carve into her heart with, without even a second thought.
And yet he doesn't think of it in those terms for even a second.
He thinks of the lab. Everything that happened there, how he'd watch the children suffer the same way he had suffered. Those in power getting away with the same thing, viewing others as tools; the cycle continuing in numbers inked on skin. It had made him so angry.]
Bad people like you?
[Henry says with a toxic politeness.
He can't help Amelia. He knows that. This is a memory. But he can control a memory, and put it on pause, and ask to the Amelia who must be here, at least to some extent--the present one--a very baffling question, to the room as a whole:]
Amelia, why are you showing this to me, specifically?
Edited (not the same icon!) 2023-07-10 18:30 (UTC)
[She speaks through the armless and legless torso. The Witch King leaves having finished giving Amelia her assignment. Like his entrance, there are no dramatics. That was just how he was to her back then and how he is now.
When he's completely gone Amelia stays silent and closes her one eye to concentrate. Eventually, some of the nearby body parts are drawn back to her and within a minute (it took longer, even more time in the reality of the past) she has reformed one arm and both legs. The witch pushes herself up with the single arm and crawls to a nearby bookshelf to rest her back against it.
She avoids looking at Henry.]
I remember this specifically because it didn't hurt, believe it or not.
Edited 2023-07-10 23:15 (UTC)
just probably some weird body horror for the next few tags
[He disagrees lightly, shaking his head. It's surreal to watch her put herself together, even knowing that her magic allows for such unbelievable things. Maybe the addition of her lucidity makes it feel surreal even for a man who is used to traversing through memory.
She's still missing an arm, isn't she? Henry is going to lift it up--or rather, its pieces--with his telekinesis and drift it towards her.]
It doesn't have to be physical pain for it to hurt. [He knows this quite well.] What he put you through is cruel. I'm surprised you came out half as well-adjusted as you are.
[An ironic statement from one Henry Creel, who did not "escape" from the lab very well adjusted at all, but that's not the point.]
[Amelia scoffs but there's a smile in there somewhere.]
You wouldn't be the first to tell me that.
[The arm he returns to her is missing the pinkie finger but she murmurs her thanks as she takes it and reattaches it to her shoulder. Only half of her face is missing now. Resting her hands on her lap she turns her gaze back to the window where the snow continues to fall though less violently this time.]
To answer your question properly, I showed you this moment specifically because you've been curious about the Witch King. There were other things he's done some probably a little worse even before this but...
[Amelia shrugs.]
I just wanted you to see that I know what it's like to be confined as well. It's not the same, I know. The cruelty of humans is worse in some ways than someone that's just a monster.
That and now you also know why there are very few things I'm frightened of in the present.
[In a twisted way, the Witch King has made sure that his student became fearless. It was trial after trial by fire and she had to put out so many flames and live with the burns she could afford.]
[Henry deigns to move closer and... sit next to her, if she'll allow it, drawing his legs up. His casts around for the other half of her face in the meanwhile -- surely she wants that back, too?]
No, it's not the same. But in some ways, it is. The days that meld into each other, the passage of time becoming harder and harder to discern. And the captors, trying to make their subjects grow stronger by any means possible. The director of the lab was a little similar to your Witch King, too, at least because he pretended to care while hurting everyone, anyway.
[But... That and now you also know why there are very few things I'm frightened of in the present.]
You're right, this clears up that and then some. An angry psychic burning up on the beach was nothing in comparison, right?
[She glances at him when he moves next to her but has no complaints. The fact that they can connect over their similar circumstances is not what Amelia expected to happen when she offered to let Henry into her mind this evening. But perhaps it was inevitable; she had a distinct impression that there was common ground the first time they had a proper conversation. She had dismissed it then, focusing instead on returning this wildcard back to his world.
Now? It's getting harder to push Henry away.
The other half of her face is in multiple pieces so when he drags them out for her, she takes them one by one and sorts them out on the floor next to her feet.]
... The passage of time felt the most cruel to me. I know that slow aging is a benefit; I take it as a blessing now. At the time though, knowing that I was already an adult, but stuck in the body of a child for who knows how long? It compounded the idea that I was never going to progress. I was always going to be stuck here and there was no one else to tell me otherwise.
[Henry's remark makes her smile despite everything.]
Well, I was scared of you... For my students. [Not necessarily for herself.]
[The half of her face, like putting a puzzle back together. Well. He'll watch and let her take care of the rest. It hardly seems his place to help her rearrange things into their proper places.]
I know. But I'm glad it was you who found me. Who knows where I might have ended up otherwise?
[He pauses, then continues.]
This place represents a prison, a trial. A long, long one. But in the end, you did escape it. You were strong enough to leave. I think that's impressive, Amelia. [But, he does wonder...] So your mentor won't ever put you through anything like that again, will he?
[And yet to him, there still seems to be a gap. Between that time period and the Amelia he knows.]
Didn’t that make you angry?
[He would be full of indignant rage. He is, from just his time in the lab, all those years stolen from him. But Amelia is too… well-adjusted, as he said, for that. No such bitterness he senses, roiling beneath. Is another piece of the story missing?]
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sunfloras2023-04-20 07:42 pm
no subject
It's interesting to see this, and to know he can compare the difference between the past and present. What a difference it is.
Though, funnily enough, Henry listens as though he, too, is a rapt student of magic.]
It makes sense. I come from another world altogether, you know, and there isn't any magic there. Maybe no world really needs magic.
[But what does he know?]
So did the Witch King really just... make witches?
no subject
Yes, I'm rather certain... [Her finger pauses over one rune and she chastises herself again.]
Dammit, this one isn't chaining... Um, sorry about that. But I'm not too sure what that actually means. Are they extensions of himself? I've only started to get the impression that even other witches don't really want to be around him and so it's less reverence and more like fear. Maybe a mixture of both? Or have they spent so much time around humans they started to perceive him differently?
Sorry, I'm still theorizing at this point. I haven't gotten to talk to many other witches since I've started to stay here.
Also, watch out for your feet. I'm going to test one of these.
[One of the completed blocks of runes glimmers and directs it to her feet. The wooden floor starts to sprout grass and dots of white and yellow flowers and it spreads around the room. Though the blades look healthy and green, it's rather sparse and there are still patches of the wooden floor peeking through.
The girl frowns.]
Not good enough.
no subject
Well. Doesn’t matter. Amelia is different than the rest.
Flowers sprout nearby, grass tries to rise up from beneath his shoes. Henry steps back to admire the work.]
Pretty good to me. [He’s just a psychic. This is still very fantastical to him.] Still fond of flowers, aren’t you?
no subject
No, no, no, it's not good at all! [She looks upset, not at Henry but at herself.]
The flowers are... Yes, they're fine. That's how I envisioned them but at this point, I should be able to make this whole place a meadow without having to make more script!
[The young witch is pacing back and forth, crushing blades of grass and flowers beneath her feet while one arm is wrapped around herself and with her other hand, she gnaws on her thumb in utter frustration. She's absorbed in her work, trying to overcome what she currently lacks.]
Do I need to cross-reference with another language? That's going to take another few weeks to decipher and combine. Do I have to shorten it? No, lack of detail means more room for mistakes but if I write even more...!
[Amelia squats down and starts pulling out tufts of grass from the ground, directing her self-flagellation at her self-perceived poor results instead.]
God dammit, the flowers don't even have their own scent! So even that's no good!
[Reading, practicing, testing, and applying was all she could do during her isolation. With no one else around, she only has herself to belittle and berate, and even with a visitor in this memory she ends up doing much the same to herself.]
no subject
And he thinks to himself, This is where we differ. Henry had never been frustrated at what he lacked at the time, not when he was being tested and trained and forced to learn. He was patient; he knew there was plenty of time to grow, if nothing else, and that he would achieve whatever bar was set for him -- no, he would fly right over it.
But maybe it's not fair to compare. Maybe her mentor is just not present enough? He wonders.]
Amelia, it's all right. [This, he would tell the children in the lab so often. It's all right. Just try again.] I know you hate being trapped here, but at least it affords you time, right? You can take that time and try again.
1/2
Time? Time... Yes. I can take my time. So much... Time.
[Standing up she lets her arms hang by her side and the grass sticks to her palms. Amelia touches her face and then looks at her palms.]
But it's been... How long now? How much time...?
[And before she can continue, there's a knock on the door.]
no subject
Hello, my dear! How goes your studies? Hm?
[The black void-like eyes glance briefly at Henry and he gives him a wave.]
Oh, keeping her company? Well, don't stay too long. She's hardworking but gets performance jitters you see!
[Amelia stands there frozen staring at her teacher before taking a few steps back to be near Henry. Meanwhile, without wasting any more time, the strange creature called the Witch King surveys the floor with the magically created grassy meadow while humming.]
no subject
Is this… empathy??
And this strange sensation all but colors his greeting to the Witch King, whom he suspected would appear at least once in this memory. Henry remembers him clearly; there’s no surprise on his features.
His smile is thin.]
I think I can stay for however long I like. [This is a memory!! You can’t rush him out.] Do you really give her much time to take a break? The mind latches onto lessons better after a long rest.
no subject
[The teacher's foot scrapes across the grass in a half-circle. In response to the psychic's question, he looks up raising his brows.]
I suspect she takes plenty of breaks in between while I'm away. It's been what, two months now? Three??
[Amelia who's gritting her teeth mutters something like, "Five." The With King brightens up and nods.]
Ah, yes, I've given her plenty of space. I don't hover like I used to when she was a tiny thing or in her terrible teens. After all, Amelia's a big girl now! Well. She has been for a long, time at this point. Huh.
[For a moment, even he's lost in momentary thought about the passage of time for his student.]
no subject
[News which is wholly unsurprising, given how long he knows Amelia’s lifespan is.
Still, despite his smile, he cannot help but sound vaguely unimpressed at this Witch King’s… everything. Power or no.]
And how long will it take before she’s a proper witch? One that can leave here?
1/2
[He answers so breezily, implying that she's been through several escape attempts. The man makes one tap on the floor and the grass that Amelia took great pains to create disappears into the wooden grain.]
... What kind of teacher would I be if I let her go with such subpar casting?
[Amelia's looking at her shoes, trying to avoid his attention now that he's talking with Henry... But no luck. The memory continues visitor or not.
The Witch King turns his attention to her. He leans down to look at her face, smiling and his voice is neither disappointed nor cruel, but neither is it concerned or comforting.]
Amy? Have you been hit another wall? That's been happening more often.
no subject
I'm... I can read the texts. Not quickly but I'm trying not to rush anything. But the results just haven't been what I wanted. I know I need to clear my mind, but...
[But the anxiety of hitting a plateau has been affecting her. The isolation and lack of visitors have twisted her insides with each passing minute, each hour, each month, each year, and now how long has it been?]
... I'm thinking too much. I know.
no subject
Henry knows this is a memory and one that will continue on its track unless he steps in to derail it completely. He doesn't wish to do that, but there's still a part of him that wants to fling a passive-aggressive remark in, all the same.]
She needs more company. [He offers his opinion, whether or not it's asked for.] You know, the kind that doesn't come here with the intent to kill her.
no subject
It's hard to tell what it would have been like if Amelia had at least one other person or more for company. Maybe she would be more well-adjusted or it wouldn't have taken her as long. But the Witch King is a creature who creates standards that either change with the flip of a coin or he adheres to them out of his alien stubbornness.
Which is why he smiles at Henry while gently taking Amelia by the wrist, tugging her towards him.]
Oh, that was one of the ordeals she's endured so well though. I'm very proud of her for that. So if nothing else, all I'm asking her to do is to sharpen her focus with the material that's been gifted to her! She doesn't need any other distractions.
[He looks at Amelia who's watching her teacher and biting her lower lip.]
Remember Amy? The magic you have is a gift and I want you to shape it! It's been thirty years or so now? You may not feel like it but you're getting somewhere. You don't even have to worry about body decay! You're most fortunate and you really should be appreciative of the changes I've made to you.
[His student freezes at the realization of how much time has passed. The Witch King looks at Henry again while she wrestles with that confirmation.]
Well, if you're going to stay, you'll get to see how I help my precious student when she's in a rut. The problem is that she's thinking too hard and agonizing over too many details. Thus, I will give her one problem to solve.
no subject
And what problem is that?
[He doubts it's anything kind at this point.]
cw: body horror
[The Witch King lets go of Amelia's wrist and solely turns his attention to her. She takes one cautionary step back, absolutely uncertain about where this is going to go.]
Now then! Amy, be a good dear and ʄǟʟʟ ǟքǟʀȶ.
[There's an utterly alien quality in the tone of his voice and it reverberates through the room. The effects are immediate; something clatters on the ground and Amelia cries out in shock. One of her arms has literally fallen apart as if she's been cut up like meat. There's no blood splatter or viscera, but her sleeves are ripped and the flesh from within stays contained and pulsing, the life still flowing through it.
When she tries to protest, the Witch King, continues, blatantly speaking over her.]
I'll be giving your eyes a rest from reading, dear. For your current assignment, I'm going to ֆƈǟȶȶɛʀ ʏօʊʀ քɨɛƈɛֆ — [The power of his words causes her other arm to crumble into various sizes including half of her face. Amelia's too shocked, to react, too stunned at this lack of sensation and this unnatural damage to her body.]
— And you're going to put yourself back together. Can't very well think about anything else when you're not fully yourself!
[This was Amelia's teacher — a creature of flighty and cruel whims who during this time treated his only student with cavalier harshness. He expected nothing less than for her to pull herself out of the pits he dug for her, never mind her mental state, never mind her damaged heart.
And before she can make another sound, the Witch King waves his hand over her and it's her legs that go into pieces next. Amelia lays on her back, an armless, legless torso with only half a face. He acknowledges Henry briefly as her other body pieces start to move further apart (to make it more challenging).]
If she can't survive this, who knows what kind of bad people will do to her in the future?
good LORD cw; mention of child abuse
Terrible.
This is the kind of memory that Henry harvests when he delves into someone's mind. The trauma and pain and shock, twisted up and utilized as a weapon. With one like this, Amelia literally falling apart before his own eyes, he'd not even have to change a thing. She's giving him a knife that he could carve into her heart with, without even a second thought.
And yet he doesn't think of it in those terms for even a second.
He thinks of the lab. Everything that happened there, how he'd watch the children suffer the same way he had suffered. Those in power getting away with the same thing, viewing others as tools; the cycle continuing in numbers inked on skin. It had made him so angry.]
Bad people like you?
[Henry says with a toxic politeness.
He can't help Amelia. He knows that. This is a memory. But he can control a memory, and put it on pause, and ask to the Amelia who must be here, at least to some extent--the present one--a very baffling question, to the room as a whole:]
Amelia, why are you showing this to me, specifically?
cw; body horror cont.
It's odd, you know.
[She speaks through the armless and legless torso. The Witch King leaves having finished giving Amelia her assignment. Like his entrance, there are no dramatics. That was just how he was to her back then and how he is now.
When he's completely gone Amelia stays silent and closes her one eye to concentrate. Eventually, some of the nearby body parts are drawn back to her and within a minute (it took longer, even more time in the reality of the past) she has reformed one arm and both legs. The witch pushes herself up with the single arm and crawls to a nearby bookshelf to rest her back against it.
She avoids looking at Henry.]
I remember this specifically because it didn't hurt, believe it or not.
just probably some weird body horror for the next few tags
[He disagrees lightly, shaking his head. It's surreal to watch her put herself together, even knowing that her magic allows for such unbelievable things. Maybe the addition of her lucidity makes it feel surreal even for a man who is used to traversing through memory.
She's still missing an arm, isn't she? Henry is going to lift it up--or rather, its pieces--with his telekinesis and drift it towards her.]
It doesn't have to be physical pain for it to hurt. [He knows this quite well.] What he put you through is cruel. I'm surprised you came out half as well-adjusted as you are.
[An ironic statement from one Henry Creel, who did not "escape" from the lab very well adjusted at all, but that's not the point.]
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You wouldn't be the first to tell me that.
[The arm he returns to her is missing the pinkie finger but she murmurs her thanks as she takes it and reattaches it to her shoulder. Only half of her face is missing now. Resting her hands on her lap she turns her gaze back to the window where the snow continues to fall though less violently this time.]
To answer your question properly, I showed you this moment specifically because you've been curious about the Witch King. There were other things he's done some probably a little worse even before this but...
[Amelia shrugs.]
I just wanted you to see that I know what it's like to be confined as well. It's not the same, I know. The cruelty of humans is worse in some ways than someone that's just a monster.
That and now you also know why there are very few things I'm frightened of in the present.
[In a twisted way, the Witch King has made sure that his student became fearless. It was trial after trial by fire and she had to put out so many flames and live with the burns she could afford.]
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No, it's not the same. But in some ways, it is. The days that meld into each other, the passage of time becoming harder and harder to discern. And the captors, trying to make their subjects grow stronger by any means possible. The director of the lab was a little similar to your Witch King, too, at least because he pretended to care while hurting everyone, anyway.
[But... That and now you also know why there are very few things I'm frightened of in the present.]
You're right, this clears up that and then some. An angry psychic burning up on the beach was nothing in comparison, right?
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Now? It's getting harder to push Henry away.
The other half of her face is in multiple pieces so when he drags them out for her, she takes them one by one and sorts them out on the floor next to her feet.]
... The passage of time felt the most cruel to me. I know that slow aging is a benefit; I take it as a blessing now. At the time though, knowing that I was already an adult, but stuck in the body of a child for who knows how long? It compounded the idea that I was never going to progress. I was always going to be stuck here and there was no one else to tell me otherwise.
[Henry's remark makes her smile despite everything.]
Well, I was scared of you... For my students. [Not necessarily for herself.]
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I know. But I'm glad it was you who found me. Who knows where I might have ended up otherwise?
[He pauses, then continues.]
This place represents a prison, a trial. A long, long one. But in the end, you did escape it. You were strong enough to leave. I think that's impressive, Amelia. [But, he does wonder...] So your mentor won't ever put you through anything like that again, will he?
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I... I didn't escape Henry.
[Her face is completed and the broken half is pushed back in. The whole of her expression is tired and resigned.]
I hit a wall ten years later and he just... He let me go back.
But there was nothing left to return to.
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Everything and everyone was… gone?
[And yet to him, there still seems to be a gap. Between that time period and the Amelia he knows.]
Didn’t that make you angry?
[He would be full of indignant rage. He is, from just his time in the lab, all those years stolen from him. But Amelia is too… well-adjusted, as he said, for that. No such bitterness he senses, roiling beneath. Is another piece of the story missing?]
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