Emet-Selch? What kind of fancy title is...that...?
[She pauses, her words trailing off into silence, brows pinching as her head tilts and her eyes go unfocused.]
The architect...?
[The words are almost a whisper. For a moment she has to stop, rubbing her forehead as she hears laughter. A gentle sort; playful teasing. Flashes and pieces that were all jumbled up as they flitted past before she could pull them closer and examine them properly.
Congratulations on the seat, my friend! When are you going to tell them?
No, no, I hardly want that sort of appointment. Can you imagine me behind a desk all day? No, thank you.
He's still talking. She hears him like he's in another room and has to struggle to pull herself away from these new thoughts and voices. He'd already caught her listening to him once before, she doubted he'd take it well if he caught her at it twice.
...They were his memories, weren't they? Yet it felt different than when she listened to others, her hand falling away as she forced herself to focus on his face.]
Well, I'll admit it's a first for me. But I wish it hadn't been out of a lake of all things. Brings back some poor memories if the forest hadn't been so loud about it. The trees back home sure didn't sing at people like this...
But I won't complain as long as wherever we're going has towels or a hair dryer.
no subject
[She pauses, her words trailing off into silence, brows pinching as her head tilts and her eyes go unfocused.]
The architect...?
[The words are almost a whisper. For a moment she has to stop, rubbing her forehead as she hears laughter. A gentle sort; playful teasing. Flashes and pieces that were all jumbled up as they flitted past before she could pull them closer and examine them properly.
Congratulations on the seat, my friend! When are you going to tell them?
No, no, I hardly want that sort of appointment. Can you imagine me behind a desk all day? No, thank you.
He's still talking. She hears him like he's in another room and has to struggle to pull herself away from these new thoughts and voices. He'd already caught her listening to him once before, she doubted he'd take it well if he caught her at it twice.
...They were his memories, weren't they? Yet it felt different than when she listened to others, her hand falling away as she forced herself to focus on his face.]
Well, I'll admit it's a first for me. But I wish it hadn't been out of a lake of all things. Brings back some poor memories if the forest hadn't been so loud about it. The trees back home sure didn't sing at people like this...
But I won't complain as long as wherever we're going has towels or a hair dryer.