Jaime and Lydia
Lydia had the boobs going for her too. Really. They looked surprisingly alike. Maybe it was a connecting with the dead thing.
"I don't really know, actually," she admitted, folding her arms loosely. She didn't love what she was, felt like it was more of a burden than anything. "I hear things. Whispers mostly. And I feel when someone is going to die. Or might die. It's not really exact and I don't really have a lot of control over it."
Some things, she'd mastered, though. Like using her voice as a weapon.