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Mewtwo's Lair

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"Well... you're choosing cards now, aren't you?" she countered. "Is there trouble now?"

She knew it wasn't quite the same, but maybe it was a start? She took the other pair, and now they were back to hunting for more.
 
Owen grumbled at that.

"...This is just a game. It's not... life."

He picked another card. By his luck, it happened to match with a previous card, which he picked with ease. It seemed Owen's analytical mind--according to Mhynt--was still in full force. Alexander must have wanted that to be unobstructed for his needs...
 
"But it's part of your life, isn't it? It was your choice to play a game... would Alexander command you to play at all?"

Now that she was back to searching for pairs, she failed to find another. It didn't bother her, as Grace seemed to just be enjoying herself.

Well, as much as she could, anyways. She was sure Owen could still see her nervousness and caution around him.
 
Owen's brow furrowed again. Grace could see the black-ash scales flake off, revealing the same black scales beneath.

"Why are you asking me this?" Owen growled, finding another pair after his first card and claiming it.
 
"I'm just... trying to understand you," explained Grace as she narrowed her eyes at the cards. "The more I understand something, the less afraid I usually become."

It wasn't exactly a lie. Grace wanted to find out what she could about Owen, and she did find safety in knowing things. She wanted to figure out what would help him, and what would set him off if she pressed too far.

Another failed pair. But they were running out of cards to get wrong.
 
Owen snorted softly at that, flipping one card. He knew the pair and instantly took the correct card once again.

"We have that in... common," he said. "But I don't see why you're trying. I just want to see Alexander again. When he shows up... I'll just go back to him."
 
Her next question made her uncomfortable.

"Wouldn't a different master be... interesting?" she asked. "Giovanni is kind of like a master to you for now, right?"

It seemed like she couldn't push for Owen to seek freedom. Not yet. There must have been a lot of baggage the Shadows were helping him forget, and Grace wanted to tread lightly for now.

Owen was ahead in pairs now, and only a few cards left. Grace picked up the next pair, and with four cards left, it really was difficult to get it wrong.
 
Owen picked one of the last pairs with no effort, but he seemed more occupied with Grace's question. So occupied, in fact, that he gave no answer back.

There was some kind of turmoil. Red watched with interest, but he couldn't tell what in particular was on Owen's mind.
 
She waited for five seconds.

Grace counted them slow in her mind, psyching herself up to risking potential anger from Owen. "...Do you have an answer?"
 
Owen growled a deep, rumbling growl from the back of his throat. It rattled the cards on the ground.

"...No," he finally admitted. "Why are you making me answer questions? What's the point?"
 
And she tried not to let it rattle her nerves. "W-Well, um, I said before, didn't I? I'm just trying to understand who Owen is. You can ask me questions if you want!"

She luckily grabbed her final pair, and gestured for Owen to take the final cards. She didn't really care who won, but it seemed to engage Owen enough.

Hopefully Mhynt could find hope in Grace's findings.
 
Owen watched the final pair like it was some kind of trap. He glanced at Red, but he was inscrutable.

He finally took the pair and asked Grace, "How would you kill me?"
 
"Wh-What?"

The very question made her feel sick. It was against her nature to even consider killing— or even wish harm against those who didn't deserve it. Owen definitely fell in the last category. He was no Alexander or any of those Cipher people...

At least, Grace hoped that was the case.

"I don't think I could," Grace replied, looking away. "Even if you were trying to kill me first."
 
Owen scowled at that. Like it disgusted him. "Weak," he chided. "How do you think you'll win against anyone like that?"
 
Grace flinched at a particular word— weak. It must have been a sore spot for her. The togetic shuffled away a little, as if seeking the safety of Red, and stared at Owen.

"I'm not weak," she said adamantly. "I don't have to win or kill to be strong... That doesn't prove anything, to me."
 
"Strength is all that matters," Owen stated. "If you aren't strong, nothing that doesn't want to change will change. People don't listen to kind words. They listen to force. What is your force?"
 
"My will?" Grace offered, wondering if it was good enough for Owen. "And my friends. When we share our goals, they can do the fighting that I can't do..."
 
Owen's muzzle scrunched up so much it resembled an accordion.

"What will your friends do but make everything worse?" he said. "They will either betray you or make you worry. Is there any point if you can handle it all yourself?"
 
"My friends...?"

Grace's gaze hardened as she chose to stand rather than sit or fly. "You can say what you want about me, but my friends are the best part of my life."

Sure, she knew it wasn't all peaches and rainbows all the time, but it was better than living a bleak, boring life without them. Always doubting.

Grace wasn't good at doubting.

"I'd do anything for them, and I know they'd do anything for me," she said strongly with a new fire in her eyes. "I don't care if it's cringey or weak to you, but we do things together. Like the Wayfarers... you'll see if you stick around more."
 
Owen studied Grace longer with that, eyes narrowing. In it, Grace could see the faint outline of his actual pupils behind the great white glow that they gave off.

"...It's all worth it to you? The trouble they'd cause, looking out for someone... else?"
 
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