[The vision settles into her mind as thick as syrup, feeling like it's flooding out into her veins. Flashes of hot green fire flick at the corners of her mind through the haze of teal neurons that wind together in the forefront of her consciousness. That consciousness sings and screams and whistles and Terezi's head is a mess all over again, just like it was any time she used her Mind powers in the past.
She'd missed them.
But now's not the time for reflection. The clock is ticking.
She holds the cueball up, even though she doesn't need it any closer to be able to see it, and asks her next question.]
[A hell of a lot, she decides, and she clutches the cueball so hard it hurts, it will create it, it will create it, it will create it, and Aradia had been right all along, hadn't she, they were just creating their own problem while trying to fix it-
No, no. She needs to focus. Another question.
Tick, tock. Even though there is no one around, she waits until she's sure she can speak clearly, without her voice trembling, with dignity, even though she's all alone.]
What is the purpose of his interference with us?
[The cueball does not hesitate to reply, and it imprints its starkly honest answer in her head.]
[Her punishment, Terezi thinks dully, will probably be a lot worse than losing one eye and one arm. She doesn't even need that eye, and one arm is nothing, comparatively: Vriska hadn't even come close to what she's doing now. She hadn't had the foresight, and even if she did, Terezi doubts she'd have risked it.
She tries not to think of how very painful an omniscient man could make his revenge. She tries to feel surprised by the cueball's last answer: she doesn't.
Tick, tock.
Tick, tock.
Tick, tock.
She finds herself grinning without humor at the cueball. The smile stretches painfully tightly across her face. It's more of a baring of teeth than a real grin. The next question is simple, a continuation of the last:]
Why?
[The cueball seems eager to answer with how fast it puts the answer in her mind now, pushing it past whirling neurons and glowing deep blue in her head.]
Vicious lime green energy spikes into her head now and grips and doesn't let go, and Terezi is acutely aware that he knows. He has to know now. There is no time to even let the awful truth of the last answer numb itself into her because-
Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock.
Ticktockticktockticktockticktockticktock-
Her final question is also simple. Her grip on the cueball is white-knuckled; she holds it right up to her face and murmurs her question against its smooth blank surface because it doesn't matter how close she is to it. Scratch is going to exact his revenge and it's going to hurt either way. So she asks her final question.]
Comments 67
She'd missed them.
But now's not the time for reflection. The clock is ticking.
She holds the cueball up, even though she doesn't need it any closer to be able to see it, and asks her next question.]
Will the plan with the Green Sun save us?
( ... )
Reply
No, no. She needs to focus. Another question.
Tick, tock. Even though there is no one around, she waits until she's sure she can speak clearly, without her voice trembling, with dignity, even though she's all alone.]
What is the purpose of his interference with us?
[The cueball does not hesitate to reply, and it imprints its starkly honest answer in her head.]
( ... )
Reply
She tries not to think of how very painful an omniscient man could make his revenge. She tries to feel surprised by the cueball's last answer: she doesn't.
Tick, tock.
Tick, tock.
Tick, tock.
She finds herself grinning without humor at the cueball. The smile stretches painfully tightly across her face. It's more of a baring of teeth than a real grin. The next question is simple, a continuation of the last:]
Why?
[The cueball seems eager to answer with how fast it puts the answer in her mind now, pushing it past whirling neurons and glowing deep blue in her head.]
( ... )
Reply
Tick, tock.
Vicious lime green energy spikes into her head now and grips and doesn't let go, and Terezi is acutely aware that he knows. He has to know now. There is no time to even let the awful truth of the last answer numb itself into her because-
Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock.
Ticktockticktockticktockticktockticktock-
Her final question is also simple. Her grip on the cueball is white-knuckled; she holds it right up to her face and murmurs her question against its smooth blank surface because it doesn't matter how close she is to it. Scratch is going to exact his revenge and it's going to hurt either way. So she asks her final question.]
But why him?
( ... )
Reply
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