holiday from real
ronan
11-02-2024, 03:58 PM
At last, she could see his resolve wear away. Makara hid her fiendish pleasure at winning this particular battle behind a neutral expression, her eyes calm and expectant behind the lenses of her goggles. Knowledge was all she'd ever wanted, really. Not in so far as to use it against anyone else, or to better herself... but simply to hoard it, maybe, like some ancient beast. It was the only armor she had in this world that had already decided to make her weaker than the rest.
She listened patiently, only interrupting a few times (which for her was quite good). Once after he grunted it's not a good story, she said: "Important stories - interesting ones, really, any that have value - rarely are." But she quieted down, as he seemed suffused with an anxious energy that was simmering beneath the surface. Twitchy and volatile, like the shimmering surface of a pot just before it boiled. Makara did love to poke a fire, get embers spitting, but she had him where she thought she wanted him, and so she listened.
"I never came close... but I saw them at great distance, and heard some other, less compelling stories," she murmured when he insinuated she must have seen them in her travels. Cutting through the distant skies she had occasionally seen jagged structures, but the land was barren for miles around and any creature with a voice had warned her away. It was just after she'd come up from the surface and she had been starving and half mad from isolation. Even her curiosity hadn't been enough to overcome common sense, and it usually was.
She nodded slowly as he finished his tale, turning her gaze back over to the spires in the distance. "There are plenty of horrors hidden underground. Certain bacteria, bugs, and even some small creatures that have never seen the light of day. They have everything they need down there. Maybe this is simply what happens when they're forced to the surface. It's difficult to say. It's certainly as if something has been disturbed - but how? Or by what means?" Her voice grew more animated and slightly bitter towards the end. She was chasing her tail, and she knew it. "Thank you for sharing your story," Makara added. "As penance, I will tell you that I do - I did - have a family here. If there was ever a time to go home..." she stared sullenly out at the sand stretching between her and the spires, then angled her gaze further north where she knew the Armada still lay in wait. "It would be now, but hard to make that choice when you don't know what lies in store. You can't un come home - and returning, in many ways, seems more complicated than having disappeared in the first place..."
She shuddered to think of what may have been left behind in a barren wasteland like what he had described. "And you? Is there anyone awaiting your homecoming?"
"speech"
She listened patiently, only interrupting a few times (which for her was quite good). Once after he grunted it's not a good story, she said: "Important stories - interesting ones, really, any that have value - rarely are." But she quieted down, as he seemed suffused with an anxious energy that was simmering beneath the surface. Twitchy and volatile, like the shimmering surface of a pot just before it boiled. Makara did love to poke a fire, get embers spitting, but she had him where she thought she wanted him, and so she listened.
"I never came close... but I saw them at great distance, and heard some other, less compelling stories," she murmured when he insinuated she must have seen them in her travels. Cutting through the distant skies she had occasionally seen jagged structures, but the land was barren for miles around and any creature with a voice had warned her away. It was just after she'd come up from the surface and she had been starving and half mad from isolation. Even her curiosity hadn't been enough to overcome common sense, and it usually was.
She nodded slowly as he finished his tale, turning her gaze back over to the spires in the distance. "There are plenty of horrors hidden underground. Certain bacteria, bugs, and even some small creatures that have never seen the light of day. They have everything they need down there. Maybe this is simply what happens when they're forced to the surface. It's difficult to say. It's certainly as if something has been disturbed - but how? Or by what means?" Her voice grew more animated and slightly bitter towards the end. She was chasing her tail, and she knew it. "Thank you for sharing your story," Makara added. "As penance, I will tell you that I do - I did - have a family here. If there was ever a time to go home..." she stared sullenly out at the sand stretching between her and the spires, then angled her gaze further north where she knew the Armada still lay in wait. "It would be now, but hard to make that choice when you don't know what lies in store. You can't un come home - and returning, in many ways, seems more complicated than having disappeared in the first place..."
She shuddered to think of what may have been left behind in a barren wasteland like what he had described. "And you? Is there anyone awaiting your homecoming?"
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