She waits as patiently as she can, despite an undercurrent of desperation still making her tremble, as they figure out whatever it is they want to try. Or maybe they're reconsidering, fraught with, with fragility as this whole thing is. She wouldn't blame them either, but there's something in her that believes in them now, as hotly and consuming as her convictions always are.
And then they draw out that red glowing spark that she's seen before in that forest that was drowning in chaos and darkness and she can't help being mesmerized by it. It forms into the shape of a heart, clearer to her now that it's not surrounded by phantom screams and billowing shadows. Not flickering as wildly as it had next to its twin. They only confirm what she'd assumed back then, a soul, some kind of powerful magic externalizing it. She nods as they look to her, go on, she's with you so far. The second part isn't something she's heard of before but understanding follows just as instantly and she smiles, faintly but in awe.
"Music." Like the song Barry and her had written together, a half century of slowly blossoming adoration and trust and longing wrought in every note. Performed up on a stage in front of hundreds of people, but all they could see, all they could hear was each other. A connection burning so brightly is what they're hoping to attempt with her, in the rubble of both their horrors. Yes, of course she almost says again, but her mind is already, inevitably rushing through the practical concerns and she-- stops herself.
"I want to," she assures them, thoughtlessly brushing a thumb over their hand. "But my soul-- I changed it. In order to give my family and myself a fighting chance. I reached inside and I-- I used necromancy, to bind my living essence to my magical essence. If we're being technical about it, I'm sort of undead? I don't know... what that would look like, if you'd even see it, but--" She can't imagine they couldn't, honestly; necromancy's a forbidden art for a reason, though she had mastered it. "I'm still me, though."
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And then they draw out that red glowing spark that she's seen before in that forest that was drowning in chaos and darkness and she can't help being mesmerized by it. It forms into the shape of a heart, clearer to her now that it's not surrounded by phantom screams and billowing shadows. Not flickering as wildly as it had next to its twin. They only confirm what she'd assumed back then, a soul, some kind of powerful magic externalizing it. She nods as they look to her, go on, she's with you so far. The second part isn't something she's heard of before but understanding follows just as instantly and she smiles, faintly but in awe.
"Music." Like the song Barry and her had written together, a half century of slowly blossoming adoration and trust and longing wrought in every note. Performed up on a stage in front of hundreds of people, but all they could see, all they could hear was each other. A connection burning so brightly is what they're hoping to attempt with her, in the rubble of both their horrors. Yes, of course she almost says again, but her mind is already, inevitably rushing through the practical concerns and she-- stops herself.
"I want to," she assures them, thoughtlessly brushing a thumb over their hand. "But my soul-- I changed it. In order to give my family and myself a fighting chance. I reached inside and I-- I used necromancy, to bind my living essence to my magical essence. If we're being technical about it, I'm sort of undead? I don't know... what that would look like, if you'd even see it, but--" She can't imagine they couldn't, honestly; necromancy's a forbidden art for a reason, though she had mastered it. "I'm still me, though."