"I've rarely had good dreams." And one of the few good ones she remembers came from the person she broke herself over, making it more bittersweet than anything. "I envy those who have them. They don't realize what a blessing they have." She'd give most anything to have a good dream from time to time, or at least to not be so dependent on the tea that prevents dreaming to have a decent night's rest. Such is the way of life, though. If the multiverse wants her to get used to nightmares before she moves on to the Eternal Dream, there seems little she can do about it.
She reaches a hand out and passes it over the book Adia offers, her fingers ghosting through the air above the embossed symbol on the front. "Pokémon...? What are those?" Are those the "friends" Steve spoke of that she... never made time to go see? A frown tugs across her lips as her gaze slips from the book back to the floor, her hand falling to her lap. There's no point in dwelling on what's passed. If she failed in her duties as a friend, there's nothing to be gained by thinking about it now.
Sitting up a little straighter, Amelia shifts her grip on Adia's hand as she answers the other woman's questions. "I met him when he first arrived here. He thought this place was some kind of test that he had to pass to be admitted to the army for his homeland. They were... fighting a war and he wanted to get back to see his best friend off before he shipped out." Her frown deepens as she thinks about the first meeting. "I tried to help find him a way home to no avail. Instead, I found him a temporary place to stay and offered to help him with whatever he might need."
It was an imperfect meeting, and yet it was one of the few good things that happened to her. Steve Rogers had been a bright spot in her life, despite the painful memories of Masarra - and certain people - that he stirred in her. "He... called me 'Miss Amelia'," she murmurs, a sad smile settling on her face. "So much about him reminded me of... home. I've rarely been happy here, but he seemed to always manage to bring it out in me."
Why hadn't she seen him more often? Why had she replied "I'm fine" to his texts and calls asking how she was? Why does she have to be so terrible at everything that isn't hurting people?
She doesn't even realize she's been silent for a full minute as her mind spirals with dark, depressing thoughts. A soft sigh escapes her as her shoulders slump forward again. "Is there anything else you wanted to know...?" Surely there's a good way to keep the conversation going without being depressing, but Amelia's so deep into her thoughts that she doesn't know how to get there.
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She reaches a hand out and passes it over the book Adia offers, her fingers ghosting through the air above the embossed symbol on the front. "Pokémon...? What are those?" Are those the "friends" Steve spoke of that she... never made time to go see? A frown tugs across her lips as her gaze slips from the book back to the floor, her hand falling to her lap. There's no point in dwelling on what's passed. If she failed in her duties as a friend, there's nothing to be gained by thinking about it now.
Sitting up a little straighter, Amelia shifts her grip on Adia's hand as she answers the other woman's questions. "I met him when he first arrived here. He thought this place was some kind of test that he had to pass to be admitted to the army for his homeland. They were... fighting a war and he wanted to get back to see his best friend off before he shipped out." Her frown deepens as she thinks about the first meeting. "I tried to help find him a way home to no avail. Instead, I found him a temporary place to stay and offered to help him with whatever he might need."
It was an imperfect meeting, and yet it was one of the few good things that happened to her. Steve Rogers had been a bright spot in her life, despite the painful memories of Masarra - and certain people - that he stirred in her. "He... called me 'Miss Amelia'," she murmurs, a sad smile settling on her face. "So much about him reminded me of... home. I've rarely been happy here, but he seemed to always manage to bring it out in me."
Why hadn't she seen him more often? Why had she replied "I'm fine" to his texts and calls asking how she was? Why does she have to be so terrible at everything that isn't hurting people?
She doesn't even realize she's been silent for a full minute as her mind spirals with dark, depressing thoughts. A soft sigh escapes her as her shoulders slump forward again. "Is there anything else you wanted to know...?" Surely there's a good way to keep the conversation going without being depressing, but Amelia's so deep into her thoughts that she doesn't know how to get there.