"I think you'll want it to be." A touch of frost in her voice, in the green of her touch inside his head. Don't think she can't, won't just rip you out, if you make things too difficult for them. Or for her.
If you make me, darling. She did it to her maker, to save her own skin. If she needed to tear Ulti apart, put him back together again exactly how she wanted him, to save either of them... well. There wouldn't be very much hesitation, let's just say.
She ignores, doesn't acknowledge that 'what you love most' comment. No matter how much she suspects it might be true.
Busy! A bright, daylit crowd on a broad street, one lined with grassy medians, black iron fences, and the occassional small white building flanked with guards. Tourists swarm everywhere, in this sunny afternoon, many trying to take pictures through the fence of the very familiar building beyond.
Oh, Hell -- Her hands clench into fists as she fights down the panic, casting her mind about for the taste of Norman's mind as she weaves briskly through the crowds. Find him, make sure he doesn't do anything stupid, oh God please don't let him have done anything stupid...
Her lips pull back in a snarl, teeth bared at him for just a heartbeat -- and then gone, everything hidden under a calm veneer as she joins him. I don't know you well enough to have any kind of 'faith' in you, just yet. What are we doing here?
He welcomes her with a mile smile, offering memories through that wall. This vista, a landscape of burning tanks, corpses, and rain. Harry. And herself, quiet sly green in the dark bedroom and Ulti's teeth on her skin. But you've known me all along.