[she can't truly know what's going on - whose voice it had been - for all she knows it's hers, some twisted version of vi saying terrible things (maybe things she would have said maybe things she wouldn't) and she hates that. she doesn't want to be shadows on the streets or gooseprickles up powder's neck, a pushing voice, a needling one - and she can't control that.
but (picking me up when all the colors were black) picking her up, though? she thinks she can stomach being that - she wants to be it now, to pick up what mess she's had a hand in making (vander in her head now: you can't unring a bell, vi) ...in breaking.
she can't put her sister back together. that's impossible. she's a person, not a broken mug (or a smashed valdiani). but she can pick her up even if she can't see the colors.
so she unblinkingly looks into those familiar/unfamiliar eyes, both hands now under the water, under her sistersquid, kneeling in the pool now, neck deep and scooping up the little creature into her arms.]
no subject
but (picking me up when all the colors were black) picking her up, though? she thinks she can stomach being that - she wants to be it now, to pick up what mess she's had a hand in making (vander in her head now: you can't unring a bell, vi) ...in breaking.
she can't put her sister back together. that's impossible. she's a person, not a broken mug (or a smashed valdiani). but she can pick her up even if she can't see the colors.
so she unblinkingly looks into those familiar/unfamiliar eyes, both hands now under the water, under her sistersquid, kneeling in the pool now, neck deep and scooping up the little creature into her arms.]
You've got this. We've got this.