That's good to hear, really. And, even if you make a mistake again... we've seen mistakes happen already. But we'll try to fix them.
[ Comet smiles. Since they were thinking about the past, and the time spent here... ]
The fortune teller who visited told me about someone who chose betrayal... They said I was bound to that person. I think they were talking about—
[ They're interrupted by... Humming. It's sounds like it's an older woman, not quite upbeat... But soothing. Suddenly, there are whitish rectangular shapes, transparent like the individuals from Malice's memories. The rectangles define themselves into canvases with beautiful scenic paintings. There's the exception of one rectangle, which makes itself into a window... With a lattice of metal bars over a black sky. A prison.
Comet looks downward, taking a deep breath. ]
Oh. Mine too, huh. [ Their memories. They don't turn their head to the singing voice, instead looking at the paintings. ]
This is where my mom was locked up.
[ There's a figure working at her easel behind Comet. She has long, silky white hair that reached the floor and the bounds of the memory, fading at the ends with her paint smeared robes. A small, but longer haired Comet sits next to her in tied up, oversized clothes. ]
no subject
[ Comet smiles. Since they were thinking about the past, and the time spent here... ]
The fortune teller who visited told me about someone who chose betrayal... They said I was bound to that person. I think they were talking about—
[ They're interrupted by... Humming. It's sounds like it's an older woman, not quite upbeat... But soothing. Suddenly, there are whitish rectangular shapes, transparent like the individuals from Malice's memories. The rectangles define themselves into canvases with beautiful scenic paintings. There's the exception of one rectangle, which makes itself into a window... With a lattice of metal bars over a black sky. A prison.
Comet looks downward, taking a deep breath. ]
Oh. Mine too, huh. [ Their memories. They don't turn their head to the singing voice, instead looking at the paintings. ]
This is where my mom was locked up.
[ There's a figure working at her easel behind Comet. She has long, silky white hair that reached the floor and the bounds of the memory, fading at the ends with her paint smeared robes. A small, but longer haired Comet sits next to her in tied up, oversized clothes. ]