[ May the current not pull too fast, and may they meet no strainers along the way.
Annie considers what she hears, in his voice, in the inadequate image of his face, making some small noise of acknowledgement that she's not sure is even picked up by the communicator. She's had to make compromises with her understandings, already aware people are so different - humans are do different - that aliens, from giant metal creatures to ones who look almost human, if not entirely, must be part of the same idea. She has no good words for it; cultures have too many divides. Annie doesn't try to set things in neatly labeled boxes, knowing it's a cluttered mess to slog through.
Thinking creatures are thinking creatures. Werewolves are sick. The Risen are not allowed to rest after life. Gods are as present as monsters. It's all confusing, all improbable, and all difficult to deny. Annie doesn't bother. An open mind will get her further than every denial she swallows down first.
For the peoples, and cultures, of this place. ]
Wise advice, but he with his own sins to hide will cast the first stone to keep eyes looking away from his fears and focusing on something easier to see.
[ She looks away as she says as much, not familiar with the idiom Will quotes. Even stoning isn't much of an issue in her world, but the idea of having such things thrown, oh, she understands that well. ]
Is that what you thought of the people you tracked down, the ones who left you reckoning with the dead? They're all still human, no matter what levels they've sunk to? Even if they feel nothing, regret nothing, of what it is they've done?
or the water under the blurry lily pad, everyone forgets the blurry water and bridges
Annie considers what she hears, in his voice, in the inadequate image of his face, making some small noise of acknowledgement that she's not sure is even picked up by the communicator. She's had to make compromises with her understandings, already aware people are so different - humans are do different - that aliens, from giant metal creatures to ones who look almost human, if not entirely, must be part of the same idea. She has no good words for it; cultures have too many divides. Annie doesn't try to set things in neatly labeled boxes, knowing it's a cluttered mess to slog through.
Thinking creatures are thinking creatures. Werewolves are sick. The Risen are not allowed to rest after life. Gods are as present as monsters. It's all confusing, all improbable, and all difficult to deny. Annie doesn't bother. An open mind will get her further than every denial she swallows down first.
For the peoples, and cultures, of this place. ]
Wise advice, but he with his own sins to hide will cast the first stone to keep eyes looking away from his fears and focusing on something easier to see.
[ She looks away as she says as much, not familiar with the idiom Will quotes. Even stoning isn't much of an issue in her world, but the idea of having such things thrown, oh, she understands that well. ]
Is that what you thought of the people you tracked down, the ones who left you reckoning with the dead? They're all still human, no matter what levels they've sunk to? Even if they feel nothing, regret nothing, of what it is they've done?