Who: Quorra and Rex Salazar
When: The morning after
this, courtesy of the Hearts Aflame event!
Where: A rooftop.
Format: Paragraph, action, etc.
What: Rex meets Quorra for their agreed not-date to get rid of those annoying strings and go roof-running afterward. Wacky hijinks ensue.
Warnings: None yet.
From up here, the sunrises in Anatole were wonderful.
The mist that wreathed the city was thinner, but still all-pervasive, but Quorra didn't mind. If anything, it made the sun's slow ascent into the sky all the more captivating. And it was worlds away from the dark clouds roiling with digital electricity that hung constantly in the sky above the Grid.
Quorra sat on the edge of the roof with her feet dangling over nothingness, leaning back against her hands, neck craned and eyes fixed unblinking on the horizon as color leaked into the clouds in ribbons of red and pink and yellow, a beautiful mix of hues she could have never imagined before. They shifted and blended and changed with every passing minute, until the fiery star had finally lifted its head completely above the horizon.
The program sighed wistfully, her happy smile widening as the first rays of sunlight broke briefly through the fog and the clouds and fell across her face. She closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth, until the sound of footsteps registered in the lower-frequency range of her hearing.
"Hello, Rex," she said, without opening her eyes at first. "Beautiful, isn't it?" Her lids finally fluttered open when she detected the warmth waning as the sun moved behind cloud cover again, and she turned her head to confirm the identity of her visitor. Then, with a grin, she lifted a hand, thumb up, the white thread wrapped around it glowing brightly in the thin morning light.
She had been nervous in the hours leading up to dusk, but the sunrise instilled a calm in her that nothing else could. She was sure it would turn out all right. As strange as this place was, it was entirely possible that there was method to its madness. And Quorra was a strong believer in the power of possibilities.
As Flynn had said, once...Sometimes, chaos was good news.