Jim has an unusually high level of aggression these days, and the best way to burn it off is to go flying.
Which is hell on his batteries, but exceptions must be made for heartbreak.
So he's the first to see something moving out in the desert, flying just below the cloudlevel (it gives him a rush), and kick his engine up to go inspect it.
She's lost the energy to care about lying, now. Her voice is dull and in a monotone.
The men who'd been attacking her are probably dead by now.
She doesn't know where she is. There is a boy who is on something that is flying.
It's quite possible she's hallucinating, like she did when she escaped the Institute, like the dreams she had of her mother.
False sensory perception experienced in the absence of an external stimulus, as distinct from an illusion, which is a misperception of an external stimulus. Visual, auditory, olfactory, gustatory, tactile, proprioception.
They are on a device that is flying, above the ground, and it looks sort of like a skateboard. It has a sail. There is a boy on it and he has a scent that she can barely trace underneath all the blood (most of it is hers now) but...
It's a good scent.
It reminds her, suddenly and without warning, of her mother.
"Yes," she says, to his question, and wraps an arm around his waist carefully.
Which is hell on his batteries, but exceptions must be made for heartbreak.
So he's the first to see something moving out in the desert, flying just below the cloudlevel (it gives him a rush), and kick his engine up to go inspect it.
Could be distracting.
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The wind is ripping her hair around her face so hard that it stings. It's cold.
She stares at the flying boy above her without blinking.
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It's a girl. Inna dress.
With claws. Bloody claws.
And the sand beneath her appears to be smoking.
How weird is that?
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She stares at him, and only a very skilled observer could see the slight flinch at one bone cracking into another as it heals.
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Almost like . . . she's standing in acid or something.
"Hey! What the - What are you doing?"
Jim circles lower around the girl, and calls out over the sound of the wind.
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She looks very pale and small and ill.
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Jim stops circling, and hovers just above the girl. He has a mirror, and he uses it to check her reflection.
Yup, she has one.
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She's lost the energy to care about lying, now. Her voice is dull and in a monotone.
The men who'd been attacking her are probably dead by now.
She doesn't know where she is. There is a boy who is on something that is flying.
It's quite possible she's hallucinating, like she did when she escaped the Institute, like the dreams she had of her mother.
False sensory perception experienced in the absence of an external stimulus, as distinct from an illusion, which is a misperception of an external stimulus. Visual, auditory, olfactory, gustatory, tactile, proprioception.
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Holy crap, is that blood? LOTS of blood?
Yeah. That's lots of blood.
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She puts the knives down. They slick back into her hands, and the places where they were scab over after bleeding for five seconds.
She took a deep breath, hardly visible, and stopped herself from hitting the ground after falling forward.
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Jim hovers just above the sand and grabs the girl by the arm, helping her onto the solar surfer.
"Are you okay to hold on? This is gonna go fast."
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They are on a device that is flying, above the ground, and it looks sort of like a skateboard. It has a sail. There is a boy on it and he has a scent that she can barely trace underneath all the blood (most of it is hers now) but...
It's a good scent.
It reminds her, suddenly and without warning, of her mother.
"Yes," she says, to his question, and wraps an arm around his waist carefully.
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"Ready," he says, and kicks the engine into gear. The city blurs beneath them, as Jim heads for the apartments.
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