She doesn't even raise her head to answer. "Couple weeks later. Three days after I decided it was safe to stop running all the time."
The South in the new memory goes to the front desk and asks for a twin room, paying and taking the keycard. She heads to the room number she's been given and opens the door, calling back over her shoulder as she steps over the threshold:
"Dibs on the—"
—before abruptly cutting off, and suddenly it's like something's shoved her, except the room is empty besides her. Her legs simply give out under her, her back hitting the door, sliding down inch by inch as the duffel full of armour clatters noisily to the ground.
And then the room is silent, the kind of dead silence that comes with being so utterly, utterly alone. There's no one else there. There's no brother following on her heel, ready to claim whichever bed she didn't call dibs on.
There's no one there but South and—
Suddenly her fingers start clawing at the back of her neck, prying the chip there out with a sort of frantic desperation as tears shine in her eyes and threaten to fall. Delta's chip goes sailing across the room to land on the carpet, undamaged.
And South starts sobbing, pitiful, all-consuming sobs that sound like she's choking on them, gasping like she can barely even breathe for how hard it hits her. She curls in on herself, not unlike present South is sat now, but her fingers are tangling into her hair, tugging at it at the roots.
It's not a sight anyone would expect to see from South.
no subject
She doesn't even raise her head to answer. "Couple weeks later. Three days after I decided it was safe to stop running all the time."
The South in the new memory goes to the front desk and asks for a twin room, paying and taking the keycard. She heads to the room number she's been given and opens the door, calling back over her shoulder as she steps over the threshold:
"Dibs on the—"
—before abruptly cutting off, and suddenly it's like something's shoved her, except the room is empty besides her. Her legs simply give out under her, her back hitting the door, sliding down inch by inch as the duffel full of armour clatters noisily to the ground.
And then the room is silent, the kind of dead silence that comes with being so utterly, utterly alone. There's no one else there. There's no brother following on her heel, ready to claim whichever bed she didn't call dibs on.
There's no one there but South and—
Suddenly her fingers start clawing at the back of her neck, prying the chip there out with a sort of frantic desperation as tears shine in her eyes and threaten to fall. Delta's chip goes sailing across the room to land on the carpet, undamaged.
And South starts sobbing, pitiful, all-consuming sobs that sound like she's choking on them, gasping like she can barely even breathe for how hard it hits her. She curls in on herself, not unlike present South is sat now, but her fingers are tangling into her hair, tugging at it at the roots.
It's not a sight anyone would expect to see from South.