[Sort of. Likely more than that, but who counts time when you're dead? Rosalind smiles at nothing for a long few seconds, then glances over at Nishitani.
Here's the truth: she's never gotten to tell anyone about this before. Who could she tell? Everyone in Columbia was too stupid to understand the truth, and you can't go around romantically doting over the man everyone thinks is your twin (or, well, you can, but this isn't Game of Thrones). Those few who knew the truth weren't the kinds of people she ever wanted to talk to. So it's just been her and Robert, and of course that's enough, but it's such a lovely, clever secret, and it's been so lovely to talk about him as her lover . . .]
You remember I told you about parallel universes, don't you? About-- about how one change, one choice, is all it takes to make a new world? So there's universes for each decision one makes. For every variation that occurs. One where you're not a criminal, say; one where your personality is radically different-- one where you aren't clearly eager to fuck me, for example.
[Is that the first time she's cursed in front of him? It's certainly the first time she's said fuck. What wonders alcohol brings.]
Or ones . . . ones where the differences are simpler. Where's things like-- like hair color, or clothing choice, or gender.
[. . . and then, because she has no faith in anyone's intelligence beyond her own:]
Robert Lutece isn't from my world. He's a boy I found when I was seventeen, and spent the next few years working to bring to my side.
no subject
[Sort of. Likely more than that, but who counts time when you're dead? Rosalind smiles at nothing for a long few seconds, then glances over at Nishitani.
Here's the truth: she's never gotten to tell anyone about this before. Who could she tell? Everyone in Columbia was too stupid to understand the truth, and you can't go around romantically doting over the man everyone thinks is your twin (or, well, you can, but this isn't Game of Thrones). Those few who knew the truth weren't the kinds of people she ever wanted to talk to. So it's just been her and Robert, and of course that's enough, but it's such a lovely, clever secret, and it's been so lovely to talk about him as her lover . . .]
You remember I told you about parallel universes, don't you? About-- about how one change, one choice, is all it takes to make a new world? So there's universes for each decision one makes. For every variation that occurs. One where you're not a criminal, say; one where your personality is radically different-- one where you aren't clearly eager to fuck me, for example.
[Is that the first time she's cursed in front of him? It's certainly the first time she's said fuck. What wonders alcohol brings.]
Or ones . . . ones where the differences are simpler. Where's things like-- like hair color, or clothing choice, or gender.
[. . . and then, because she has no faith in anyone's intelligence beyond her own:]
Robert Lutece isn't from my world. He's a boy I found when I was seventeen, and spent the next few years working to bring to my side.