[It's probably the smiley face that gets through to him. Sheer ridiculousness. Sheer Angel. If ever there was a girl named Angel. But it short-circuits the spiral of paranoid delirium and clears his mind for an instant of relief. His face twists with it - the first response is tears, because bodies are strange like that, though they're only a faint sheen in his eyes before he cracks a weary smile. His lips form soundless words, as though talking to himself. Clever girl.
With long practice - Norfinbury has been good for that - he grabs onto that clarity and tries to push through the distress to sense. Nanomachines malfunctioning. He's in no state to think too deeply about it but more than willing to accept the explanation from her. It makes sense. It's almost standard. Almost normal.
Which of course leaves out everything else.]
Do you th[static]cting our minds? Our perception of each other? This [static]eels like I've dreamed you. Rhys. [static]rything.
no subject
With long practice - Norfinbury has been good for that - he grabs onto that clarity and tries to push through the distress to sense. Nanomachines malfunctioning. He's in no state to think too deeply about it but more than willing to accept the explanation from her. It makes sense. It's almost standard. Almost normal.
Which of course leaves out everything else.]
Do you th[static]cting our minds? Our perception of each other? This [static]eels like I've dreamed you. Rhys. [static]rything.