[ That evokes a look of genuine surprise from her— just what is he getting at? That he's not supposed to be in this mess at all? That come what may, he'd already looked death in the eye?
That's.... abruptly and surprisingly relatable, and the shock on her expression slowly melds into something more light— a skip and a half from empathy. Does she feel badly for him....? Not really, but she can understand on a deep, deep level what it means to brush with death, and to not understand why you're still living. There's no one else she's met that truly lives with the weight of that knowledge. ]
Wanna know something? Me too.
[ Rather impulsively, she decides to commiserate with him, acting truly on whim. Misa idly tucks strands of golden hair behind her pierced ears, sounding more serious than she has throughout this entire conversation, as though she's avoiding having her behavior being written off under her usual persona. Narrowly escaping her would-be end— something she's simply kept close to her chest ever since getting to Horos simply because it's been to her benefit to play at being a teenage idol who just couldn't "get" the life-and-death situations of the war they've been thrust in. To tell anyone about her experiences with the supernatural would be to reveal her hand, to begin unravelling all the secrets of lifespans and Death Notes that are etched into her personal history. But what does it matter, anymore? She's never going back to the world she came from - even if it's still there, she'll be working alongside the Regent to destroy it to remake it a new.
So it doesn't matter.
She doesn't need to say the specifics of how she knows, but there's a certainty in the way she speaks regardless, as though there's no question. It's perhaps because Rand is on the other side that she's able to tell him, thinking that at best, it'll give him some sense that he's not the only one on Horos living on strange time. At worst, it'll give him a better sense for her ease with accepting the Kenoma, a sense that there's something more to friendly, bubbly, ditzy Misa. ]
The way I see it, I have a new chance now. We're "immortals," or something close to it, right? I'm not going to think about when and where I should've died anymore. [ Mirroring him, she gives a shrug, offering him the strategy she's used to cope with that knowledge all this time: ] You shouldn't either.
no subject
That's.... abruptly and surprisingly relatable, and the shock on her expression slowly melds into something more light— a skip and a half from empathy. Does she feel badly for him....? Not really, but she can understand on a deep, deep level what it means to brush with death, and to not understand why you're still living. There's no one else she's met that truly lives with the weight of that knowledge. ]
Wanna know something? Me too.
[ Rather impulsively, she decides to commiserate with him, acting truly on whim. Misa idly tucks strands of golden hair behind her pierced ears, sounding more serious than she has throughout this entire conversation, as though she's avoiding having her behavior being written off under her usual persona. Narrowly escaping her would-be end— something she's simply kept close to her chest ever since getting to Horos simply because it's been to her benefit to play at being a teenage idol who just couldn't "get" the life-and-death situations of the war they've been thrust in. To tell anyone about her experiences with the supernatural would be to reveal her hand, to begin unravelling all the secrets of lifespans and Death Notes that are etched into her personal history. But what does it matter, anymore? She's never going back to the world she came from - even if it's still there, she'll be working alongside the Regent to destroy it to remake it a new.
So it doesn't matter.
She doesn't need to say the specifics of how she knows, but there's a certainty in the way she speaks regardless, as though there's no question. It's perhaps because Rand is on the other side that she's able to tell him, thinking that at best, it'll give him some sense that he's not the only one on Horos living on strange time. At worst, it'll give him a better sense for her ease with accepting the Kenoma, a sense that there's something more to friendly, bubbly, ditzy Misa. ]
The way I see it, I have a new chance now. We're "immortals," or something close to it, right? I'm not going to think about when and where I should've died anymore. [ Mirroring him, she gives a shrug, offering him the strategy she's used to cope with that knowledge all this time: ] You shouldn't either.