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But she hasn't been tortured. (Lucky's eyes are smug. You can <span class="mu-i">tell</span> they're smug.) "Okay, well... sorry about that. Um, I think that is what happens in detention cells, usually. But anyhow. You do admit that your face is melting?"
Possibly Madrigal flings her arms out. "I'm not godsdamn blind anymore, am I?"
...She's right, she <span class="mu-i">was</span> blinded, you think. By the snake. Did that get fixed? "So that's a yes...?"
"Yes, I know my damn FACE is melting! Do you think I <span class="mu-i">want</span> it melting? Do you think I like—?" Her voice cracks. "I didn't ask to be a MONSTER, okay. I didn't. They made me. And this douchebag won't believe me, and I'm so confused, and—"
Ellery steps back from the door, hand on forehead. You throw him a weird look and slide into his empty space. "They made you? You mean Pat, or—?"
"Yeah. Pat. And Lester, at least one of him, and... everybody. All of them."
At least one of him? Are there multiple? "Is that who you saw at Namway?"
"I saw EVERYBODY. But yeah, them. Dierdre."
You don't think you've met a Dierdre. "Do you remember exactly what they did to your body?"
"Exactly what they did? I was knocked out. I think Pat said it'd be too PAINFUL otherwise." Possibly Madrigal scoffs bitterly. "So no, not exactly. I just woke up with a face that wasn't MY face, and it— it thinks. They don't tell you that part. It doesn't think in words, but it thinks. It tells me who I AM. I HATE it."
You look at Lucky for context. He rubs his nose. "The Wind Court does not conduct <span class="mu-i">research</span> into the unnatural, Ms. Fawkins. We are comfortable containing it."
Maybe Possibly Madrigal is still a little delirious. (Wasn't she wandering dazedly?) Or maybe not. "You mean gooplicates think? Or goo does?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
Hmm. "So do you know what it... wants? Does it want?"
There's a silence. "The stuff wants to be a person," Possibly Madrigal says roughly. "A real person. And it'll kill real people and steal their bodies to do that. I THOUGHT that was common knowledge."
Look, you— maybe it is, maybe it isn't. Maybe you've forgotten. Ha ha. "Um... you're not killed though. Your— your real body is safe, so don't worry. I've been making sure you don't get sores."
"...I don't know if I'm slow," Possibly Madrigal says, "but I don't know what you're getting at."
You're not telling her about Gil if you can help it. "Don't worry about it. It's safe. Uh, in the meantime, do you think Pat left any kind of... tracker in you? Or something to control your mind or body or something? Since you were knocked out..."
"How the hell would I know? It's not like they'd TELL me." She sits back against the wall. "I don't think Pat would do that, but..."
There's a new note of worry to her voice. "She probably didn't," you reassure her. "I was just checking. Do you know if she's made any Madrigals besides you? Like copies, or gooplicates, or—"
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