"Really didn't feel that way. At all."

"...Yeah, I can see that. Just," she shrugs and looks away. "Lucky compared to me doesn't necessarily mean--actually lucky--and I think Idaia is, lucky compared to me, even if you aren't."

"Okay." He squeezes his wife.

"I should come up with a nickname," she sighs, "but it's not like Emily who could just base something off her powers, 'telepathic' isn't exactly disambiguating here..."

"Are you a different kind?"

"Well, yeah, but the differences between kinds of telepathy are harder to sum up into a pity monicker than the bare fact of its existence."

"True. The Space set aren't even really telepaths, but it rounds out close enough..."

"And everything I can think of that isn't telepathy-related is incredibly depressing."

"Kind of a shitty multiverse."

"Or at least a shitty selection therefrom, yeah."

"Do we have a reason to think it's not random? I guess there's 'the landlords are fucking with us' -"

"If it's random why are there so many of--us?"

"...okay, fair."

"I'll probably think of something eventually."

"I think some people have decided not to poke lest they annoy -" he gestures -"whoever runs the place."

"I meant for a name."

"Ah. Can't help you there."

"Yeah, didn't think so."

"Do you want to hang out while you read up on worlds and think about it?"

"Yeah. Um--can I--"

"Yeah, of course."

She hugs them.

Poor sad Idaia-alt. Hug.

Yeah. Hug.

I am really, really glad I met you when I did. I'm not sure what percent of this is the whole post-apocalyptic survivor thing and how much is the not having anyone but her twin thing--and it's probably mostly the former, but her people just died, they didn't betray her--I'm so glad I stumbled on your family so quickly.

Yeah, otherwise you'd just have been stuck wandering and you wouldn't even have known to eat the plants.