[ That word, "trapped", sparks something in her mind. The Archive, the permanence of it, stretching on forever until she dies. Most days she doesn't mind being the Archive, it's as weightless to her as gravity, and there's nothing wrong with it. But occasionally she realizes that she won't ever be able to have people she cares about, won't be able to go on vacation with them, won't be able to be a person for them. If push came to shove she would have to turn her back on them and walk away, no matter what. Then the Archive feels like an anchor at sea when everyone around her are the waves, and it dredges up memories, some new and some old, so old, memories of insanity and loneliness stretching across centuries.
Hundreds of women stretch out behind her, translucent but distinct, like reflections in a mirror. The Archives of the past, reflected here as her mind reaches back to them. She gives a small sigh, of longing and loneliness, and it's with all of their voices in unison. Hers is the most distinct of them, but theirs ring in unison with hers. ]
Yes.
[ And then they fade, leaving only her. She gives him a smile, genuine happiness for all the sadness and envy she holds for his chance. Her mother resented her for the freedom she would have, and ensured it would never come to pass. In return, the Archive feels no resentment for all that she has envy, a lesson learned so dearly from her mother's actions.
This time her voice is only her own and it's happy again. ]
no subject
Hundreds of women stretch out behind her, translucent but distinct, like reflections in a mirror. The Archives of the past, reflected here as her mind reaches back to them. She gives a small sigh, of longing and loneliness, and it's with all of their voices in unison. Hers is the most distinct of them, but theirs ring in unison with hers. ]
Yes.
[ And then they fade, leaving only her. She gives him a smile, genuine happiness for all the sadness and envy she holds for his chance. Her mother resented her for the freedom she would have, and ensured it would never come to pass. In return, the Archive feels no resentment for all that she has envy, a lesson learned so dearly from her mother's actions.
This time her voice is only her own and it's happy again. ]
I'm glad. I do like talking to you, you're nice.