The man’s brow was furrowed with open worry—he didn’t remember much about her, but her frailty … well, that was familiar enough for him, strangely enough. When she pushed away his concerns, the splicer merely frowned, but kept silent. He hoped she’d be okay, or that she’d rest. She really was worrying him—and for someone he supposedly didn’t remember, the feeling came easily.
“Jack. M’name’s Jack Wynand.” The false name rolled off his tongue, easy as butter. More often than not, lying was not Jack’s forte—but in a way, he wasn’t lying. He truly didn’t consider himself Andrew Ryan’s son. “Pleasure to meet you, Miss Rainsworth. Or… t’see you again, I guess.” He sighed, when he thought of the reason why their memories were so fouled up. The scientists—and they were the reason for their whole mess in the first place.
“Can’t blame yourself—if you’re gonna blame anyone, blame the scientists.” After several moments, he decided to speak once more. He tried to speak a little more forcefully, letting his worry bleed into his voice.
“I… y’should sit down, Miss.” He looked around at the mostly-empty street, past the crowds and at the storefronts on either side. “Why don’t we… find us a cafe, or something?”
“Jack…” She repeated slowly. The name certainly did sound familiar, and not just because of the knowledge of a Jack in her world, albeit, a dead Jack. She gave a small not at the name. The smile never wavering. Clearing her throat, she moved her hands to rest relaxed at her sides. She knew that the scientists were to blame for the lack of memories, they explained as much themselves, but she still did feel the slight need to apologize.
Shelly glanced around casually following his gaze for several moments, before sighing. “Thank you, Mr. Wynand.” She felt fine, but she wasn’t about to brush away the concern again. Though the relaxed air about her should have been enough to ease any worries. “I’m quite alright, but thank you for the concern.”
Once again her eyes traveled up and down the street. Now, where did she remember seeing a cafe? It was close by, wasn’t it? She tapped a finger against her lips. “I believe there was a cafe not that far around the corner. She pointed in the direction she had come from. Not that she could be certain, but she thought she’d seen one.