And the Vesmier begins. Slowly, steadily, with the same care and concentration he applied to rebuilding April's mind, explaining as he goes along. It's a dangerous proposition, this, but better to give her some edge than to not.
Everything has to be categorized, examined in how it works in conjunction with the rest of her mind. Certain things are pulled down, into the structure he's making – an edifice of resistances, of controls, of certain things bound too sternly to escape to a conscious level without conscious support. Other things are left near the surface of her mind, tied together into a convincing portrait of a broken and bitter woman, with just enough strength not to arouse suspicion.
And then, as he works, he comes across... something.
And pauses, because that mental feel, that pattern, is more familiar than he'd like to admit.
no subject
Everything has to be categorized, examined in how it works in conjunction with the rest of her mind. Certain things are pulled down, into the structure he's making – an edifice of resistances, of controls, of certain things bound too sternly to escape to a conscious level without conscious support. Other things are left near the surface of her mind, tied together into a convincing portrait of a broken and bitter woman, with just enough strength not to arouse suspicion.
And then, as he works, he comes across... something.
And pauses, because that mental feel, that pattern, is more familiar than he'd like to admit.
:: ...what is this? ::