Re: [jude & hannah: tea]
"You can't ask about the Romanovs. I was never really good with history." She pulled a face, and she wasn't lying. The dead girl wasn't good with history or books or anything much, not really, but Hannah hadn't studied any of it either, not after, not now. It was just more stories, and she would get to them someday, but she read slowly, like normal people did and without processors to make scanning data easy or quick. She accumulated at a normal speed, at a normal pace, and that was her programming. Normal as normal could be, and she just hadn't made it to history. She thought maybe she was more of a novel type of girl.
He tossed Rivers and Jane and the word of some god into the grave, and she laughed brightly. "They need a very creative gravestone, since that's a very creative grouping in one grave. You get to write the epitaph," she informed him, not at all sorry for placing the daunting task before him. She didn't notice the horrified woman, but she would've thought it entertaining. After all, no one had screamed or anything yet. It was all very right, even the lean-back and flourish, at least in Hannah's view.
He went and more tea returned, and she sat and sipped and awaited the tale he was to spin. Her eyes were penny bright in sky blue, and the thrill of anticipated yarn spun was plainly projected. She sipped, and then she propped her chin on her hands. "You're doing good," she told him honestly. "I want to know if she turned back time to make her brother go away. Did she?" It seemed the thing to do, especially for a child. Children were adorable, but they were very honest and blunt and cruel, and they didn't think things through really well. Not that adults thought things through very well, because they really didn't. Not really.