When there's a puzzle he can't solve (which is more often than he'd like) and when there's no one in his shop (which is more often than not, and he likes that very much), Lemm goes to the Memorial.
It's not because he expects to find answers there, exactly. Fountains can't talk. But this one does remind him why he's here, because even if no answers have been particularly forthcoming about the memorial either, he can't look up at it and not wonder.
It's an excellent reminder that no one can just switch off their curiosity, however frustrating transcribing a badly-damaged journal may be. Which he will return to, and complete. He just needs ten minutes - and the ambient sound of the fountain, and apparently a crick in his neck from staring upwards at a statue he doesn't understand. That usually does the trick, for reasons unknown to bug nor beast.
Except Lemm has already forgotten about the journal, because there is someone here already, and they look like they might be very tall if they weren't curled right over like they're dying.
Lemm has not seen any Infected in a little while, but he is not so foolish as to let down his guard, and he almost turns right back around and leaves the strange scene to play out by itself.
Almost.
Because those horns.
Lemm freezes for a solid minute at the edge of the square, grappling with a fair few self-preservation mantras that have kept him alive and well in the City of Tears for this long, and finally he curses that damned curiosity and moves forwards. Nice and casual. No reason for either of them to alarm each other with sudden movements. He keeps a sharp eye out for signs of any orange glow, stops at what he hopes is a safe distance away, and manages to wrangle up a bit of courage.
"Paying respects?" he asks bluntly, probing for any kind of a reaction. His voice always sounds too loud out here, and he braces. He's not a great runner, but his shop isn't far and the door locks well enough.
Perhaps, he thinks doubtfully, they're related. Distantly. Somehow. That information is worth a little risk.
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syntheid
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Date: 2020-08-24 04:16 pm (UTC)It's not because he expects to find answers there, exactly. Fountains can't talk. But this one does remind him why he's here, because even if no answers have been particularly forthcoming about the memorial either, he can't look up at it and not wonder.
It's an excellent reminder that no one can just switch off their curiosity, however frustrating transcribing a badly-damaged journal may be. Which he will return to, and complete. He just needs ten minutes - and the ambient sound of the fountain, and apparently a crick in his neck from staring upwards at a statue he doesn't understand. That usually does the trick, for reasons unknown to bug nor beast.
Except Lemm has already forgotten about the journal, because there is someone here already, and they look like they might be very tall if they weren't curled right over like they're dying.
Lemm has not seen any Infected in a little while, but he is not so foolish as to let down his guard, and he almost turns right back around and leaves the strange scene to play out by itself.
Almost.
Because those horns.
Lemm freezes for a solid minute at the edge of the square, grappling with a fair few self-preservation mantras that have kept him alive and well in the City of Tears for this long, and finally he curses that damned curiosity and moves forwards. Nice and casual. No reason for either of them to alarm each other with sudden movements. He keeps a sharp eye out for signs of any orange glow, stops at what he hopes is a safe distance away, and manages to wrangle up a bit of courage.
"Paying respects?" he asks bluntly, probing for any kind of a reaction. His voice always sounds too loud out here, and he braces. He's not a great runner, but his shop isn't far and the door locks well enough.
Perhaps, he thinks doubtfully, they're related. Distantly. Somehow. That information is worth a little risk.