That's quite the wish, Mr. Wake. [ Elizabeth comments almost with an amused tone. ] You don't need to be locked in a building to be exploited. Used. Controlled.
[ A gentle sound of a laughter comes from her. ] A record. We had a way to record our voices... where I grew up. Records as well. Maybe if we can find a recording we can listen to it here. After all, whoever operated this place had the Rockstars here.
[ "If it produces art, you're an artist."
She thinks of the paintings of Paris. Paintings of other places. The hymns and songs she learned to sing--songs that Fink's brother had stolen from other places. She doubts any of her artistic abilities would shine anywhere as bright as what she is capable of doing because of what she has become, rather than who she was born to be. ]
no subject
[ A gentle sound of a laughter comes from her. ] A record. We had a way to record our voices... where I grew up. Records as well. Maybe if we can find a recording we can listen to it here. After all, whoever operated this place had the Rockstars here.
[ "If it produces art, you're an artist."
She thinks of the paintings of Paris. Paintings of other places. The hymns and songs she learned to sing--songs that Fink's brother had stolen from other places. She doubts any of her artistic abilities would shine anywhere as bright as what she is capable of doing because of what she has become, rather than who she was born to be. ]
No, Mr. Wake. It's not all I can do.