Aeoryi
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Nettle wandered the clinic. She didn't know how to leave. "Well this certainly is something," she said.
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Nettle shrugged, then walked off.
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Nettle sighed, but held her silence.
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"I..." Nettle swallowed. "Just apologized to him."
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"I apologized to Trevor," she lied, "It was never meant to hurt."
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"I pretend like I have more problems then I have." Nettle shrugged. "I wouldn't say I lack a purpose. I'd say I lack something to do."
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"Yes."
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"I..." Nettle searched for the reason within herself. "Couldn't tell you. I like being cruel sometimes."
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"To prove a point."
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"I create illusions. Fake things. With extra depth."
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"Bye bye!" Nettle called. "Come back when you want to!" She considered extending an illusion to apologize to him. But that felt cruel. "I... Do you think I was too mean to him?"
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Nettle stared. "I don't make miracles." She offered her hand to him, still standing. "Are you going to get up? Or are you going to leave Tal as another source of pain?"
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"Then destroy and remove his trace from this world." Nettle sighed, then slapped Trevor in the face. Everything disappeared. "What do you think, dude?" Nettle stood there with her hands on her hips. "I can't make miracles. I only make delusions. Move on." She turned to Turing. "So why are you here?" . @The Aspiring Archivist
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"A memory for a memory," She said, walking up to Tal. She touched him, and instantly all the other voices of memories snapped out like a discarded photo filter. She held up her hand, and in the palm of her hand was a crystalline shard, no larger than a toothpick, but echoing with the reflected memories of Tal. She placed it in Trevor's hand. "There you go. You can probably bring him back to life or something with that. Do what you will."
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"Oh can I now?" Nettle poked him in the chest. Instantly, reflections of lights and memories popped up all around. Turing, Nettle, and Trevor stood around a blur of lights. "So which one is him?"
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"Is he still here? Can I see him!?"
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"Purpose." "Oh? It sounds to me like you commit injustices to people here."
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"Hi, my name's Nettle. I'm searching for something I don't have."
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What? "... How long have you been here?"
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"Hey Turing. How's... it going?" Nettle still was staring, fascinated.
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"People work in prison in a clinic?" "Who are you?" Nettle stared.
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"Whoa. What's that?" She reached out to touch it.
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"Nice. I have neither of those." Nettle sighed. "So, what are these people like?"
