[open] Time it is past and I roam free

[lumenrelegandus]

Who: lumenrelegandus and anyone
When: Early in the week
Where: The dojo, the streets, the path toward the Ruins and/or Hunting Grounds.
Format: Prose
What: As if any loss weren't bad on its own, sometimes it opens up past ones.
Warnings: I'm being bad for posting a new log without doing any tags for ongoing threads! I have company for a few days and am semi-

Comments

[impossibly]

There are three things River enjoys in her companions: people whose heads are interesting, people whose words are interesting, and people who make her feel normal. Lupin is a little of all three, even in soliloquy. She follows along, tries to keep each word alone and without association, finds that makes them meaningless sounds, restacks them to find there is more and less to them, more or less.

"What about purpose?"

River doesn't enjoy people playing games where she can't see them either, which is why she doesn't want to buy what religion is selling. Yet the way everything unfolds here-

"If it's not the law of large numbers then it's ineffability." If it takes people for a reason, could they place their own judgement values and fight for those without looking microscopic? "Fighting it could just be like a white rat in a maze. Sometimes that's what they want you to do. Doing nothing could be the anarchy. But I don't think that would be allowed. Something bad will happen sooner or later." They watch us, she wants to say. They know all of our names. Casually, she takes in the world through he peripheral vision, reaching out, shivering a little.

[lumenrelegandus]

He nodded, almost as if (if only) sensing more of what she meant around what she actually said. Knowing she was right and he agreed, but sometimes he needed reminding. With a side thought that in switching roles she was succeeding admirably. -Then she said something that made his eyes lock on hers.

"They?"

Though the Twins flashed instantly in his mind, a deeper, more resounding thought reverberated beyond rationality: Veneficus

[impossibly]

Despite the circumstances, despite everything, she couldn't help but laugh a little bit. She was a creature built for learning: of course spending so much of her life in the care of others had taught her how to care herself. She's playful when she swings their hands and glances coyly up at him.

"Plural, non-gendered, non-specific. There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio."

[lumenrelegandus]

His creaking joints and too-tense muscles loosen, unlocked at the childlike gesture. He joins in the swinging. Manages a smile and responds with what may be their shared motto: "Qui docet discit."

[impossibly]

"Qui docet discit," she repeats back, and if he's sad, if he's so sad, at least he's easy now, less evocative of a countdown or something balled and tense. Of course her mentor is all about flux, patterns where she has none, cyclical. But not predictable - never that.