[rio, viktor has found, at the very least has some understanding of the people viktor knows. he's only ever seen her be uneasy around people he does not know or people he himself is uneasy about, which he supposes makes sense. even if she truly is rio and not a reflection of him they are still without a doubt connected, tied closer than they ever were in life.

(and he is so deeply, endlessly grateful she does not reflect the image of rio as he last saw her, diminished and floating in that vat like another pickled creature to be dissected. horrifyingly alive after so many years.)

in this case she has only curiosity over ortus, a little flick of her tongue before she's butting his hand with her head. viktor's lips quirk faintly with it, and what ortus says in turn.] I suppose so. Even relentless sentiment has its place regardless.

[a brief pause and he decides to admit,] Her fate wasn't kind. I think that is why it is particularly important to me, to imagine she is here and not suffering.

['they' strikes him. not 'he died' but they, which could simply be a matter of pronouns or could be a dire plurality. given what sounds like it could be an outbreak? his hopes are not high.]

Why do you not speak of it? I can understand avoiding what is painful or moving on, but some matters deserve remembering.