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and in your head there are no sunsets left
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[html]  OoC
IC
Her words failed to surprise him. It only made sense: if DaVinci Nasphrite had known his sister Willow, then a woman who was likely related to him in some sense would know Bane's mother. It was odd, in fact, that he hadn't recognised her name immediately, but as she gazed at him with that scarred face, he distinctly recalled his father having spoken of Iskata Sadira once or twice, perhaps more. There had been points when the child had simply stopped listening; everything he had heard, though, he had absorbed. In some cases, this had been too much.
Bane nodded. Again, a pointless gesture, but difficult to stop. "I am," was his easy reply. There really was no regret or emotion in his voice at all. He spoke as easily as he ever had, his tone a gentle baritone, reflecting only mild curiosity for the relationship this woman had had with his mother. "You knew her?"
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