BROKEN ANGELS
11-24-2013, 09:36 PM
She listened closely to Deteste describe her children, interested. She wondered which genes had come from where, which characteristics had come from which chromosome. They were happy, at least, and the woman supposed she was doing her job well enough then. ?They don?t want for anything, do they?? she enquired. Medusa?s maternal instinct was certainly limited, but she did feel the urge to provide, to give her children the best she could without being too involved. They were annoying and needy, but if they had been hurt, she would protect them, and if they desired food or an ear to whine into, she would do her best.
She listened to the description of each child, deciding Severus most definitely took after his mother, Callisto more so after her father, and Circe?s personality origin having yet to be determined. Her gaze looked upon Deteste, transfixed, observing each movement and noting how familiar he was. Obviously she knew him, but she felt she knew him from elsewhere, from a world away. And yet she said nothing, for it wasn?t certain, and she didn?t deny her mind was often unstable. ?We make pretty children. They?ll be strong without a doubt,? she noted, although there was something absent about the tone of her voice as she stared at the scarred man, trying to determine what was off about him.