#flashback time

Harry: "You're probably wondering how i ended up in this situation ..."

Part 13

mmh ... It feels like a crime to cover that neck ...

so here a bonus~

Yeah could not find my Wayne’s world gif on mobile anyway enjoy the episode everyone

FLASHBACK TIME: Deepground Part I

screenshots borrowed from @siringadev 💜 💙

Nero’s first memories weren’t of Weiss. They were of fear and pain. Being alone in a terrifying white space, full of noise and chaos. A woman weeping, somewhere he couldn’t see. Aching all over his body, sharp pricks in his skin, tubes sticking out of him everywhere, sickening chemical smells. The whirring and clicking and occasional beeping of machines.

They thought he was blind, at first, because he never looked around or focused on anything. It turned out he was nearly blind, but only in bright light. He had perfect dark-vision. This wasn’t a physical defect, they decided, but a successful result of bio-engineering, and congratulated themselves on their ingenuity.

He never cried, as an infant, and as a toddler, he never smiled or laughed. He was marginally responsive, but avoided eye contact, and was entirely nonverbal. They assumed he was mentally deficient, but he wasn’t broken. He just didn’t work the way they expected. 

The silent, crimson-eyed little boy was actually hyperaware, always absorbing and digesting information, sucking it up like a dry sponge. He just didn’t want to communicate with the people who put a muzzle on him, whenever they took him out of his room, poked and prodded him all over his body, like it was their property, stuck needles and probes into him, pumped his veins full of stuff that burned his insides, and fed him pills that made him vomit.

Rather than asking questions of his tormentors, he sent superfine threads of darkness into people’s heads and examined their thoughts directly.

When he wanted to know what was going on outside his cell, darkness vapor seeped from his palms and fingertips, slipped into the shadows, and wandered the vast, underground complex, taking his perception with it. 

Though he’d hardly ever left his own cell, by the time he was six years old, he knew enough about the Deepground complex's layout, that he could’ve drawn a reasonably accurate map from memory.

Howdy

Is this seat taken?

It’s 20 minutes till class, none of them are taken

Yeah but i like this one

Is it a particularly special seat?

You could say that. I’m Kai by the way

Emily

So, Emily. why’d you choose that seat?

Front of the class but not front row. Central i guess, why’d you choose yours?

To introduce myself to you

I’m very flattered

You should be, this is otherwise a terrible seat

Oh, you’re a back of the class type person?

Yep, just blending in

You should have thought about that before you dyed your hair bright red

Yeah but now i can pretend to be an apple

That is an upside

Yeah except its been really hard to see a doctor

And i bet hiding from William Tell is really stressful

It does make life difficult

I’m sure it does.

Sooooooo, they’re showing the new Evil Guy at the theatre downtown this afternoon if you want to judge those seats

I have a sneaking suspicion you’re gonna be partial to the back row

And right there is another thing i like about seat choice, it’s a window into someones mind

Ok then, whats going on in my mind?

Well you’re a diligent student who’s a little quiet, doesn’t want to lead the discussion in class but has a great many thoughts on everything discussed. Though hopefully whats going on up there right now is along the lines of “Wow i can’t wait to go see a movie with Kai”

Thats pretty accurate, i’ll see you there at 4, Kai With Strong Opinions On Seats.

he he he...here is way more than six sentences, but I don’t care: 

Jon, wake up. Wake up. I need you. 

Go away, Sansa. 

But I need you. Father is coming home today. We must meet him at the river with flowers to give to my lady mother. 

Ask Robb. 

He’s already told me no. If you say no too, then I’ll just have to find Theon—

Don’t ask Theon—just—just give me a moment to dress. 

Thank you, Jon. It will be so romantic. We’ll pick asters for love, and daisies for loyalty, and forget-me-nots so my mother will know she was in father’s heart the whole time he was away. There is nothing sweeter than fresh picked flowers from your one true love. 

Then why do we have to pick them? Shouldn’t father—

—Mother doesn’t need to know we helped. Father works so hard to be a good lord and husband, but he isn’t very romantic. 

Everyone knows he loves your lady mother. 

Of course father loves her now, but— but, wait—that’s not to to imply—

—that he has a bastard to make up for? 

Jon…that isn’t what I meant—

It’s alright, Sansa. Just let me get dressed.

I'll make it up to you by showing you just what to pick when you fall in love. Goldenrod for good fortune, and geranium to show what a fool for her you are, and—

Save it. I’m never going to fall in love. 

But why? 

You know why. But don’t fret, little sister. Show me what flowers you like best and I’ll make sure your husband picks them for you one day. 

Then we must do this again come spring, when the daffodils are blooming. 

And what do they signify? 

Unequaled love. I yearn for nothing less. 

Then you shall have it, I’m sure.

You really think so? 

You’re very good at getting what you want, Sansa.  

But that’s a very big thing to want, Jon, and I will not have a choice—

Father will choose well for you. He’ll find you a handsome highborn lord who plays the harp and writes poetry in his spare time. 

Oh, that would be lovely. But what if he doesn’t love me back? 

Eli: “Hey, sis. How are you holding up?”

Imogen: “You know...just trying to keep it together; some days are easier than others.”

Eli: “I just can’t figure out how she was able to just...disappear like this!”

Imogen: “I know, it’s even made the news but nobody knows anything! It’s as if she fell off the face of the Earth!”

Imogen wondered miserably if she would ever see her daughter again. She hoped that wherever she was, at least she was safe; she couldn’t bear to imagine the alternative. 

--------------------------------------------------------------

Two months previously, on the night of Fiona’s disappearance