[For a long time she says nothing, pulling the screen closer to her and paging through it all on her own: reading, silent and pensive, before finally clipping her gun back into its holster.
The aggression isn't front and center in her expression anymore, but her tone— even the sound of her voice— isn't as soft as Azúcar's had ever been.]
She does look a lot like me.
[Violet eyes flick up, one last look of consideration before she steps back to retrieve another can of paint, shaking it for a few beats.]
But my name isn't Azúcar. [There's a hiss as she finishes the last detail on the 'a' in her own name. ]
no subject
The aggression isn't front and center in her expression anymore, but her tone— even the sound of her voice— isn't as soft as Azúcar's had ever been.]
She does look a lot like me.
[Violet eyes flick up, one last look of consideration before she steps back to retrieve another can of paint, shaking it for a few beats.]
But my name isn't Azúcar. [There's a hiss as she finishes the last detail on the 'a' in her own name. ]
It's Sombra.