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@olderperhapswiser.bsky.social
❝I’m the quiet you’ve been longing for.❞ || MDNI || #DWRP
(Chuckles.) My children did much the same. They will keep you busy.
she tried to eat a leaf.
That is the one and only thing people say about babies.
one thing they NEVER tell you about babies is that they're so loud and they don't ever sleep.
The question is always 'who is this guy?' and never 'HOW is this guy?'
Jerks awake with a gasp. His hearts are pounding. He's trapped. He tries to reason with himself. Tell himself he's just frozen in fear. He must have had a nightmare. It will pass. The reason refuses to sink in. He still feels like a caged animal and will until he calms down enough to move again.
I would like to try it. (He requests from a dark corner of the kitchen. Like a ghoul from a horror movie.)
I'm floating on a cloud of blissful bread smell because for the first time in recorded history, I, Cassie Van Blair of Earth, Canada, am baking bread. Just like in the legends!!
(Steps inside. He doesn't take his sunglasses off just yet.) How are you? After everything?
( she looks him over, a little suspicious with lack of sleep. ) . . . alright. come in.
I am an amazing actor, thank you very much. (Lowers his hand, fighting a smile.) ... It is good to see you.
i know when you're lying. i can *hear it*.
Thank god. I mean... ahem... what a terrible loss. I am heartbroken. I will be reeling from this for the next *thousand years.* (Hand on his forehead. Like an old timey maiden who is about to faint.)
no, you can't borrow them.
Those gloves are certainly... a choice....
hello, mortals.
There are two stories. Would you like to hear the first one, the second one, or both?
Then tell me about your liberation.
Liberated and angry... then, yes. I suppose. Our situations are comparable.
Liberated and angry.
(He's still as a statue now. Still staring at that same spot.) Depends on your perspective.
Are our situations even comparable?
You would be surprised. I have had... a long time to think about these things.
Why? How can they be worse than mine?
(His jaw clenches. He's been staring at one spot for a while. He's probably not reading anymore.) I think this is where *I* keep my thoughts to myself.
Whatever it is, it gets in the way of a peaceful existence to the extent that I don't feel comfortable sharing this world with them. And I don't think they deserve it, do you?
He turns to give his full attention at the feel of a blade — not because he's concerned by it but because he knows that is the thing to do. His eyes are an unnatural shade of gold. The glow could easily be the light bouncing off of them, but... is it? "Nobody sent me. As I said, I am —
The stranger gets the tip of the blade under his chin for his trouble, with just enough pressure to get Vedha his full attention. "That's not very polite, is it?" Not that there's anything interesting or valuable among his things. —mostly clothes, +
That wouldn't be very difficult to find. . . . I understand the impulse.
No, no one. Well, someone, but he's dead. So no, no one. I don't know. A man who deserves it?
You're very welcome. (Flips a page.) I have to ask, is there anyone particular you feel like strangling? Or is it just a passing fancy?
Right, my hobbies and interests. Well I feel much better now, thanks so much for listening.
No. It is always good to share your hobbies and interests with those around you. ... Or so I have been told.
Should I those thoughts to myself?