[Yes, experiments. Much like herself. Henry's mind is filled with a multitude of those images, floating around in fragments; twenty years is a long time to spend as a lab rat. It practically defines him, and he hates it.
The lights flicker—how funny to see it, when it isn't a consequence of his own powers—and she draws nearer. That flickering bond of kinship, yes, now being woven between them. It's delicate now, just gossamer silk, but he can sense it.]
I like keeping secrets.
[A quirk of his brow, almost mischievious. That part of him is very sincere, not at all part of the facade.]
Especially ones like these. No one will use you here again; at least not without reaping the consequences for it.
no subject
The lights flicker—how funny to see it, when it isn't a consequence of his own powers—and she draws nearer. That flickering bond of kinship, yes, now being woven between them. It's delicate now, just gossamer silk, but he can sense it.]
[A quirk of his brow, almost mischievious. That part of him is very sincere, not at all part of the facade.]
[He has already decided this.]