The sword draws Roxie's attention. Her expression is cold, as it usually is, though there's a certain quiet greed at the edge of her eyes.
She seems quite innocent herself, at a first glance. No weapons, none of the trailing odors of the hippies, and clothes that are at least clean if a bit ill-fitting, though there's something analytically sharp in her gaze. A heavy-looking sack is slung over one shoulder, burdened down with unknown contents.
Her appearance is reviewed and promptly filed away. He notices the greed, however, and makes a mental note to watch her carefully.
"I... am Quote."
It was a simple answer, but he was never sure about that question. Some people said it and wanted a name, others a species or a serial number. Best to just give the default and expand on it later.
"A friend... of mine. It had... belonged to him... before he died. He... gave it to me... so that... I could use it... to avenge him... and those... that had died."
It's a simple answer, perhaps, but it's true none the less.
She seems quite innocent herself, at a first glance. No weapons, none of the trailing odors of the hippies, and clothes that are at least clean if a bit ill-fitting, though there's something analytically sharp in her gaze. A heavy-looking sack is slung over one shoulder, burdened down with unknown contents.
"Who are you?"
Reply
"I... am Quote."
It was a simple answer, but he was never sure about that question. Some people said it and wanted a name, others a species or a serial number. Best to just give the default and expand on it later.
Reply
She adjusts her glasses slightly.
Reply
It's a simple answer, perhaps, but it's true none the less.
Reply
She adjusts her glasses again, silently.
Reply
Quote watches her carefully as ever, the grip on the sword still tight. He half expects the girl to attempt to take the sword, or bargain for it.
Reply
Leave a comment