[The Persona flits across the space between Yukiko and Eleanor, hovering above her and watching, head tilted to one side in a birdlike fashion. The blades come no closer and with a flash of light they vanish, leaving the scent of chrysanthemums. Yukiko crosses the space between them and smiles almost slyly before gesturing to the being.]
I told you. I wasn't making her up.
[She knew damn well what you were thinking, Eleanor. Ever the skeptic, but not her. She was more willing to accept magic...]
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I told you. I wasn't making her up.
[She knew damn well what you were thinking, Eleanor. Ever the skeptic, but not her. She was more willing to accept magic...]