[ rosamund you are so cute and for what. thank you for not thinking eating fish is cannibalism.
he's just reclining against the wall, resting his eyes. his arm has stopped bleeding, the trunk of it closed over in that gross state of fresh, barely-healed injury. he's not sleeping though, as evidenced when he cracks open his eyes at her quiet footsteps.
he'll wave her in with his good arm. ] Rosamund! Hello. [ spotting her Gifts ] You didn't need to bring anything...
[ distraction. you cannot stealth as a 9' (redacted) shark, as it turns out. ]
I can't say it was even a mission—the other four, they were on a mission.
[ theirs was something else ]
The details I doubt are very important—something with the "United States" and extracting us from prison to deal with the walking dead. ...But honestly, it's strange! I feel as though we were gone for ages. So it does well for me to see you all again. [ he touches the less-bleedy stump now ] As for this, I received a prosthetic for it—and the loss was my own carelessness! It's fine now.
[ the rhythm of the explanation is a touch over-eager, if anything. ]
[One day we'll go to a shark world and he will be the most regular one.
Rosamund sort of just sits there for a moment. The explanation needs a second to soak in.]
Are you...are you saying you were made to live a completely different life in only one day?
[She holds for another moment. "Carelessness." What a blithe way to speak about losing a whole limb. And she can't imagine its the whole truth.]
Sidon. [She puts a hand over his remaining one, looking him clear in the eyes.] I'm very grateful that you're back, and that you're feeling a little better. But it sounds very much like you've all had your heads meddled with, and on top that you were made to fight...what, reanimated bodies? And you were in a prison?
anyway, not the handholding... he stops whatever insane concussed story this is for a second, almost surprised. as he settles, it's into something still postured upright, head held at its usual, noble tilt, but less haughty and more seriously regarding her questions. he respects rosamund and her spirit—the way she approaches and empathizes with people. ]
I can't say there was a "why." The others were on a mission for the company, but our journey had no such purpose.
[ he looks thoughtful as he tries to order his thoughts. ]
It did feel as though we had—as you said. Another life. I so truly believed it at the time... We escaped prison and were forced to battle with the living dead, and deal with a very rich, very troubled man. That is why you see us damaged so.
After he was slain, and dead brought to the earth, we returned to prison. And then—just as suddenly, here we are. Home again.
[her secret is you just grab people's hands and look pleadingly into their eyes with your big cerulean orbs
He calms. Maybe he's not deeply troubled by the events within the dream, they seem to lean more adventurous than harrowing, but he certainly wasn't above them. It's better that he settles into his own skin again. There's no need for show.]
I wonder why you were sent then. As an exercise? Or a test?
[And for what? If they wanted to test their mettle in battle there were far simpler ways. And ones that dealt less permanent damage, be it physical or psychological.]
Do you still feel that life inside of you? Or is it more like a dream now?
he is not a disingenuous person, not ever, but sometimes choosing to smile means shuffling a different card beneath it; it's a balance, to feel everything in ways that one weight does not send the other sailing out of control. it's easier around someone without judgment, or expectation.
he looks considerate, a gentle flutter going across the thinnest fins he has. he smiles when he reaches a conclusion. ]
I expect there is no reason at all. Maybe it was just an act of nature.
[ a typhoon. a ceaseless rain. difficult in its intensity but without any intention. ]
I do still have that life—not all of it. A bit that feels more real than just dream or memory. It's strange, when I'm sure I did not live it.
[The fin flutter tugs at the edges of her mouth. She'd never say aloud for fear of being rude, but it is deeply endearing how his thoughts are reflected in them. Really, it's incredible that the fish folk of her world came out so twisted looking while the shark citizens of his were comely, if he's any example to go by.
Then again, that might be the effects of the Times of Shadow.]
Well, I hope it fades soon enough. It can get confusing when your memories double up, what really happened and what hasn't.
I'm just glad you're back. Even if not in one piece. [She gives his hand a squeeze.] And I bet whatever pros...prostetic? Whatever they make for you, it'll be very dashing. They have so many interesting inventions here, nothing seems too ludicrous to imagine!
[Save for a way home, but there's no point in beating that dead horse.]
[ ocean creatures do have a way of turning out either beautiful or completely horrifying. makes sense that there's a variety amongst "merfolk," too.
for someone who does not know what a prosthetic is, she does seem to get the whole 'double vision but with your entire life' dilemma. seems normal enough for fantasy. he gives her a lil squeeze back! ]
I hope it will as well, though—I suppose I will just have to treat it as a learning moment if it doesn't.
[ gotta stay positive about this absolutely ass experience somehow. ]
And they have made me one! It's... fascinating. [ genuinely. ] I wasn't sure if I wanted to use it, after everything with the nanites. But—maybe that is cowardice speaking.
That so? [Funny he should put it that way.] What do you think the moral of the story is?
[If he's lucky, it won't be a standard too high to hold.]
Cowardice? No, no, it's not cowardly at all. [She grins brightly, tilting her head to better catch his eye.] Frankly, I'd be more worried if you were too eager to stick strange things on your body. And if it's more metal? Especially when you spend so much time in the water?
You're simply being reasonable. Anyone would feel the same way in your position. Trust me.
[ he looks grateful when she validates his stupid robo-arm concerns, though he's also ready to use it. sucks being a jock and feeling... less, with his body broken down like this.
but more importantly, he hides a little smile back as he considers her question, letting out a hmmmm against his knuckle. ]
The moral is... [ he holds out a finger for each point ] One, you cannot raise the dead without losing something in the process. Two, prisons are disgusting and inhumane. Three... don't do... drugs?
You know, [She says slowly, and with no small amount of awe.] I think that's the first time in a long time that I've heard a morals to a story that I can get behind.
Though, it would depend on the drug I think? That's a sliding scale, there's different things. But the other two, I'm all in! [She grins up at him.] You've grown so very wise, Prince Sidon. Congratulations.
[Then with a sudden start, she gasps.]
Your fish and chips! Oh, they're probably so cold by now!
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
WEEK 1: Thursday
Sidon? [She edges through the door warily.] Are you feeling all right?
no subject
he's just reclining against the wall, resting his eyes. his arm has stopped bleeding, the trunk of it closed over in that gross state of fresh, barely-healed injury. he's not sleeping though, as evidenced when he cracks open his eyes at her quiet footsteps.
he'll wave her in with his good arm. ] Rosamund! Hello. [ spotting her Gifts ] You didn't need to bring anything...
no subject
Oh, don't be silly. It's nothing at all. And I thought you might be hungry!
[Setting both at his side. Also taking a seat presumptuously.]
So...You're in very good spirits!
[BRO]
no subject
Haha, well—there isn't much to be done by moping about.
[ his energy levels are lower, on account of blood loss and arm loss, but he's sitting up straight and gives her a tired smile. ]
Has one of the others told you what happened already?
no subject
[Was he on team Distraction or team Extraction?]
Though I have to say, I'm very sorry for your loss. Does it hurt much now?
no subject
I can't say it was even a mission—the other four, they were on a mission.
[ theirs was something else ]
The details I doubt are very important—something with the "United States" and extracting us from prison to deal with the walking dead. ...But honestly, it's strange! I feel as though we were gone for ages. So it does well for me to see you all again. [ he touches the less-bleedy stump now ] As for this, I received a prosthetic for it—and the loss was my own carelessness! It's fine now.
[ the rhythm of the explanation is a touch over-eager, if anything. ]
no subject
Rosamund sort of just sits there for a moment. The explanation needs a second to soak in.]
Are you...are you saying you were made to live a completely different life in only one day?
[She holds for another moment. "Carelessness." What a blithe way to speak about losing a whole limb. And she can't imagine its the whole truth.]
Sidon. [She puts a hand over his remaining one, looking him clear in the eyes.] I'm very grateful that you're back, and that you're feeling a little better. But it sounds very much like you've all had your heads meddled with, and on top that you were made to fight...what, reanimated bodies? And you were in a prison?
Why?
no subject
anyway, not the handholding... he stops whatever insane concussed story this is for a second, almost surprised. as he settles, it's into something still postured upright, head held at its usual, noble tilt, but less haughty and more seriously regarding her questions. he respects rosamund and her spirit—the way she approaches and empathizes with people. ]
I can't say there was a "why." The others were on a mission for the company, but our journey had no such purpose.
[ he looks thoughtful as he tries to order his thoughts. ]
It did feel as though we had—as you said. Another life. I so truly believed it at the time... We escaped prison and were forced to battle with the living dead, and deal with a very rich, very troubled man. That is why you see us damaged so.
After he was slain, and dead brought to the earth, we returned to prison. And then—just as suddenly, here we are. Home again.
It makes as little sense to me as anyone else.
no subject
He calms. Maybe he's not deeply troubled by the events within the dream, they seem to lean more adventurous than harrowing, but he certainly wasn't above them. It's better that he settles into his own skin again. There's no need for show.]
I wonder why you were sent then. As an exercise? Or a test?
[And for what? If they wanted to test their mettle in battle there were far simpler ways. And ones that dealt less permanent damage, be it physical or psychological.]
Do you still feel that life inside of you? Or is it more like a dream now?
no subject
he is not a disingenuous person, not ever, but sometimes choosing to smile means shuffling a different card beneath it; it's a balance, to feel everything in ways that one weight does not send the other sailing out of control. it's easier around someone without judgment, or expectation.
he looks considerate, a gentle flutter going across the thinnest fins he has. he smiles when he reaches a conclusion. ]
I expect there is no reason at all. Maybe it was just an act of nature.
[ a typhoon. a ceaseless rain. difficult in its intensity but without any intention. ]
I do still have that life—not all of it. A bit that feels more real than just dream or memory. It's strange, when I'm sure I did not live it.
no subject
Then again, that might be the effects of the Times of Shadow.]
Well, I hope it fades soon enough. It can get confusing when your memories double up, what really happened and what hasn't.
I'm just glad you're back. Even if not in one piece. [She gives his hand a squeeze.] And I bet whatever pros...prostetic? Whatever they make for you, it'll be very dashing. They have so many interesting inventions here, nothing seems too ludicrous to imagine!
[Save for a way home, but there's no point in beating that dead horse.]
no subject
for someone who does not know what a prosthetic is, she does seem to get the whole 'double vision but with your entire life' dilemma. seems normal enough for fantasy. he gives her a lil squeeze back! ]
I hope it will as well, though—I suppose I will just have to treat it as a learning moment if it doesn't.
[ gotta stay positive about this absolutely ass experience somehow. ]
And they have made me one! It's... fascinating. [ genuinely. ] I wasn't sure if I wanted to use it, after everything with the nanites. But—maybe that is cowardice speaking.
no subject
[If he's lucky, it won't be a standard too high to hold.]
Cowardice? No, no, it's not cowardly at all. [She grins brightly, tilting her head to better catch his eye.] Frankly, I'd be more worried if you were too eager to stick strange things on your body. And if it's more metal? Especially when you spend so much time in the water?
You're simply being reasonable. Anyone would feel the same way in your position. Trust me.
no subject
but more importantly, he hides a little smile back as he considers her question, letting out a hmmmm against his knuckle. ]
The moral is... [ he holds out a finger for each point ] One, you cannot raise the dead without losing something in the process. Two, prisons are disgusting and inhumane. Three... don't do... drugs?
no subject
Though, it would depend on the drug I think? That's a sliding scale, there's different things. But the other two, I'm all in! [She grins up at him.] You've grown so very wise, Prince Sidon. Congratulations.
[Then with a sudden start, she gasps.]
Your fish and chips! Oh, they're probably so cold by now!