[ Misato is learning that to see one's anger brought to the surface by another is to see that same anger absolved in herself. Ah, so this is how. This is how all those others, Kaji, Ritsuko, Hyuga, the nameless techies whose lives have been sacrificed in the name of one man's selfish desires, can grant her such void looks in the face of her outbursts when they are losing just as much as her, if not more. This is how. To see one's emotions and their mirror-images laid out on the table is to know how despicable, how disgusting, how puny and meaningless they are.
There's a sense of herself folding in, an origami piece deliberately going through each step as if to create some sculptural masterpiece, only for the last step to be a disappearing act. Hora, was it ever there? The evidence of her fury is only in the absence it leaves behind.
Misato grips her fists so tight that she might shatter them, but then she releases them, and tips her chin high over the girl. There is no disdain or defeat or hurt, only apathy. She speaks, to Lavellan, just as she turns to leave. ]
She'll need your help to learn how to contain her own mind.
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There's a sense of herself folding in, an origami piece deliberately going through each step as if to create some sculptural masterpiece, only for the last step to be a disappearing act. Hora, was it ever there? The evidence of her fury is only in the absence it leaves behind.
Misato grips her fists so tight that she might shatter them, but then she releases them, and tips her chin high over the girl. There is no disdain or defeat or hurt, only apathy. She speaks, to Lavellan, just as she turns to leave. ]
She'll need your help to learn how to contain her own mind.