<span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 9pt;">Oh boy. Angel was really starting to panic. Jonas was moving closer and closer to the closet that held Max, and she sure as fuck didn't feel like getting in any trouble today. She'd rather stay awake than strapped into a machine while Hyperion launched code after code of "reprogramming" at her. It never worked - apparently Sirens were remotely immune to mind control (and the collar was the only thing that made her listen to her father) but it was a great torture and she fucking hated it. She'd lose days while strapped into the Core. <br/><br/>She was quiet as she watched him. Her lips pressed into a thin line - she wanted to say 'you're not my father, and he only comes when he wants something' but considering that Jonas was wandering closer and closer to the closet. . . eek. <br/><br/>Oh boy. He was walking closer. <em>Think! THINK!</em> <br/><br/>Angel closed her eyes, sucked in a deep breath, and then let out a shaky sigh. Most of the bitterness, most of the acidity left her face. She looked fatigued and tired. She graced Jonas with a small smile, meant to disarm. <br/><br/>"<strong>. . . You're right. I'm sorry I'm in a bad mood. I mean. . . look. My legs lost sensation again. But I'm really cold and tired. . . Do you think. . . do you think you can read to me. . . Dad?</strong>" She said the name softly, her voice and tone quiet. <br/><br/>She sat there and blinked up at him. To be entirely honest, Jonas was a better father than her real father was, but eh. Dad just seemed so. . . personal to call him. She preferred not to. </span>