They wonder, distantly, where he might've gotten it. How rare they were was impressed upon them by how cursedly difficult it was to find their own, in the worst mess of Deepnest their third go-round.
They nod shortly and let him do as he will. When it arrives, they'll sit.
Not hit the button. Only sit. They don't have a goal beyond being out of the Resting Grounds.
This is worse than the Nailsmith. Then, they'd been significantly more detached. It was easier to consider before discarding it. They didn't know each other. He was the Nailsmith, they were a client he served his best for, and that was the whole of it. But for the quality Nail he forged, this sort of relationship was hardly uncommon.
They're not at that level of detached now. Not in general. Not after they'd just written out half their Shade for her, right then and there, about their hopes for the future.
--And she isn't even alone. The Nailsmith had been. Even Cloth had been. Except for them. A stranger. They weren't anymore, to Seer. Or so they'd made the mistake of believing.
Shade Wings curling around its cushions, the Knight presses flat against the back of the seat.
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syntheid
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Date: 2023-03-17 11:36 am (UTC)They wonder, distantly, where he might've gotten it. How rare they were was impressed upon them by how cursedly difficult it was to find their own, in the worst mess of Deepnest their third go-round.
They nod shortly and let him do as he will. When it arrives, they'll sit.
Not hit the button. Only sit. They don't have a goal beyond being out of the Resting Grounds.
This is worse than the Nailsmith. Then, they'd been significantly more detached. It was easier to consider before discarding it. They didn't know each other. He was the Nailsmith, they were a client he served his best for, and that was the whole of it. But for the quality Nail he forged, this sort of relationship was hardly uncommon.
They're not at that level of detached now. Not in general. Not after they'd just written out half their Shade for her, right then and there, about their hopes for the future.
--And she isn't even alone. The Nailsmith had been. Even Cloth had been. Except for them. A stranger. They weren't anymore, to Seer. Or so they'd made the mistake of believing.
Shade Wings curling around its cushions, the Knight presses flat against the back of the seat.