Eleanor
But she kept talking, as if she didn't even see the other woman. Or perhaps it was that comment which drove her even deeper. Her eyes were wide and hopelessly blank. "Intercalate. In-ter-cal-ate. An insertion of time. Weeks, days, hours, minutes, seconds... Hours! The Hour of the Sun! Haha, it was supposed to be mine. Everything had been so perfectly planned in the end. Flesh in the evidence, beautiful Cyprians, my glorious instruments, and the essence of Thirst. Smooth without red within. The Ivories, the Lovelies, the Thirstlies, they should have been mine. So why did the Sun burn me-- why did it!?" Her hands did not tremble but were utterly still, and for just a moment one could see the kind of person she once was.
Her eyes were not empty but filled with the light of the Lantern, her cunning sharpened to Edge's cutting point, her Heart was ceaseless, her intentions shrouded by Moth, her hands coated with Knock, her compassion deadened by Winter, her flesh straining with the potential of Forge, and her barest breathes the intoxicating musk of Grail. There was little truly human in her; she was more Aspect than flesh. It was a mockery, madness that she should be here wallowing in the Histories when the truths of the Mansus was where she truly belonged! And yet she was still here.
But soon even that was gone with the deep inhalation from her pipe. For now, that monster was quelled. "I... apologize. You're a truly wretched existence but that was unbecoming of me."