[ Medusa has long since ceased paying attention to stimuli on her peripheral vision. When your hair is constantly moving at every thought, whim, or scrap of will, you come to disregard anything that looks like movement, because usually that movement is you. So it takes the voice to catch her attention.
She doesn't jump. Queens have poise. But her hair billows behind her like a cloud, two long tendrils reaching over her shoulder in the direction of the voice— and then she pauses, her hair swirling like the tide. Not scared, but puzzled. ]
What manner of being are you?
[ It's not that she doesn't know what an AI is. It's just that it's always polite to ask rather than make assumptions. ]
no subject
She doesn't jump. Queens have poise. But her hair billows behind her like a cloud, two long tendrils reaching over her shoulder in the direction of the voice— and then she pauses, her hair swirling like the tide. Not scared, but puzzled. ]
What manner of being are you?
[ It's not that she doesn't know what an AI is. It's just that it's always polite to ask rather than make assumptions. ]