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.
no subject
Then she starts blinking, as a chord of power strikes back through her - not a hit but a surge, not a shout but a sigh - relief.
"I- I'm glad to hear you feel that way. /Thank you,/" she adds, almost in a whisper - and if she's crying, if it feels like she's being hugged by another presence that would cry too if it could, then what of it?
no subject
However, once Spot pings her about Nita's wizardry returning, she drops her hand pretty much immediately. Dairine has more pressings things she's gotta do. Like giving her sister a big ol' hug.
(Hopefully Bobo isn't too badly squished.)
"Good to have you back."
Aaaand wrap.
We're going to be just fine, she thinks, to silent affirmation.
It has more than a grain of truth to it.