unfavorableinstigation (
unfavorableinstigation) wrote in
voidtreckerexpress2020-08-02 09:15 am
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I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take.
Who: Nita and YOU. Preferably close CR, but anyone can stop by.
Where: Quiet Car, second floor, a room near the front of the carriage.
When: Middle half of Grasshopper; post-platform, pre-event.
What: A(n ex-) wizard retreats. Some may come to reprimand, some to console, some just to find out WTF happened.
Warnings: ... Discussion of what's basically psychic assault in this log, folks. Mind your headspace!
After the platform, Nita retreated into herself. That was the best way to describe it; she could not be 'booked' in one of these rooms the same way she could have been in the Medical Car, but she spent as much time as she could in just the one room, not speaking unless spoken to, not leaving except to go to the restroom or fetch another journal.
No matter when one arrived to check on her, she would be either resting - staring off into space more than actually sleeping - or writing.
Some of the words were crossed out, as if she had had a tough time finding the right ones, but the writing looked to be formal in nature. A report. And, most notably, it was in English, not the alien curves of the Speech.
If she had to live with her actions, Nita figured, the least she could do was explain them - and explain why they were wrong.
Mostly, though, what encompassed her mind was the emptiness of it all. She couldn't even be angry now.
Fitting.
Where: Quiet Car, second floor, a room near the front of the carriage.
When: Middle half of Grasshopper; post-platform, pre-event.
What: A(n ex-) wizard retreats. Some may come to reprimand, some to console, some just to find out WTF happened.
Warnings: ... Discussion of what's basically psychic assault in this log, folks. Mind your headspace!
After the platform, Nita retreated into herself. That was the best way to describe it; she could not be 'booked' in one of these rooms the same way she could have been in the Medical Car, but she spent as much time as she could in just the one room, not speaking unless spoken to, not leaving except to go to the restroom or fetch another journal.
No matter when one arrived to check on her, she would be either resting - staring off into space more than actually sleeping - or writing.
Some of the words were crossed out, as if she had had a tough time finding the right ones, but the writing looked to be formal in nature. A report. And, most notably, it was in English, not the alien curves of the Speech.
If she had to live with her actions, Nita figured, the least she could do was explain them - and explain why they were wrong.
Mostly, though, what encompassed her mind was the emptiness of it all. She couldn't even be angry now.
Fitting.
And thread wrap?
Also: LOOK. She's done the same thing with Kit, too! She could hardly cast stones there...
With a nod, and a smile that won't quite go away, she sits down to enjoy the treat, her heart (and perhaps the peridexis', if it could be said to have one) just a little lighter.