Whatever she seems to have made itself known within that split second of Ophelia's own pocket-reality escapes Pandora's third eye; she sees blackness and nothing else. A void. Emptiness like nothing else, shrouded in the steely resolve not to be witnessed by prying eyes. How strange, she thinks. It was often these things drifted to her like messages in bottles lost at sea, seeking to be found, but not this one. She felt... strangely empty today; as if an unsettling quiet had settled inside . "I said you look like you've seen a ghost." the girl repeats in an effort to be heard, her lilt soft and docile, not wishing to startle her further. "...You haven't, have you?" she asks, as though it's the most natural thing in the world, and her pupils swell with curiosity like a cat's. "You can tell me... I'm really good with the spooky stuff."
" what? " she repeats foolishly, and then catches herself, cheeks heating. " i mean, no, i -- i haven't seen a ghost. " she would rather that she had; she had seen spirits before, before portum, and they had always frightened her less than her unpredictable foresight. most of them don't want to hurt the living; her visions, though they don't always come true, are so often filled with hurt. " not this time, at least. "
