[ She doesn't move to take her turn, doesn't even glance at the board, her attention so wholly focused on her companion. There's confusion in her that rises to the surface like a bit of driftwood coming to shore, and it's only when it washes onto the beach that the shape of the wood becomes clear. ]
(They aren't me. Those are real people who were living and breathing when I touched them and copied them into my mind.)
no subject
( They aren't me. Those are real people who were living and breathing when I touched them and copied them into my mind. )