Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20170112225309/@comment-28358106-20170117023223

As Anansin has been speaking, her hands have been moving almost idly, but now Armata can see what she has been doing. From the tips of her fingers has come the finest of threads, and she has been moving her hands in a circular motion. She is weaving a small cocoon.

"Want may masquerade as need out of necessity of conscience. You may not know so until it is too late, and for such a creature as you, too late may be thousands of years off, or tomorrow. Suchbis the peril of knowledge.  Regardless, the knowledge is yours."

With a swift motion she splits the cocoon down the middle, revealing an obsidian shard, twisted and unnatural. Even as solidified memories, it is difficult to look at. She holds it out.

"Claim it, then, if you would view the past of another through the lens of madness. Be warned; her memories will be as your own when you see them."

(I won't describe what he sees or interprets or his reaction. That'll be up to you.  Feel free to elaborate.)