Nox is grumpy and distrustful but he's serious about the work he does. Real helpful friend that I am, I had an early chance to test out the holocrons myself and I've seen what they can do. If you're really interested, I suppose he's willing to work with just about anyone, but uh...well, If anyone can handle a grouchy bastard like that I suppose it would be you.
[ Sal doesn't add in what she really thinks. That of course Anathema's presence has mattered; there's evidence in every faulty fiber of her being. She won't write it, has to pull her shaky hands off the keyboard and press her palm against her knuckles, but it's been truer and more evident with each new morning; there's evidence in each fractured piece of her old self slowly coming back together.
But that's not a worthy enough prize for someone who can help to save the world, is it? Or maybe it's something else, like that scar wrapped around her side from Jindu's sword; an old fear about how this story takes a turn. ]
You'd think my most precious memories would be something fancy, like winning a big battle or chasing down some dastardly villain. A memory that's worthy of being in a poem or an opera. But the most important things are always so fucking small. Reminds me of Daiga the Phantom. The greatest graspmage in the Imperium, probably, and what did he have to barter for magic like that? A necklace full of tiny trinkets. Everything that was most important to him could fit right into your hands and could be taken away in a flash.
no subject
[ Sal doesn't add in what she really thinks. That of course Anathema's presence has mattered; there's evidence in every faulty fiber of her being. She won't write it, has to pull her shaky hands off the keyboard and press her palm against her knuckles, but it's been truer and more evident with each new morning; there's evidence in each fractured piece of her old self slowly coming back together.
But that's not a worthy enough prize for someone who can help to save the world, is it? Or maybe it's something else, like that scar wrapped around her side from Jindu's sword; an old fear about how this story takes a turn. ]
You'd think my most precious memories would be something fancy, like winning a big battle or chasing down some dastardly villain. A memory that's worthy of being in a poem or an opera. But the most important things are always so fucking small. Reminds me of Daiga the Phantom. The greatest graspmage in the Imperium, probably, and what did he have to barter for magic like that? A necklace full of tiny trinkets. Everything that was most important to him could fit right into your hands and could be taken away in a flash.