(no subject)
There were old sayings, teachings that Dee had long ago forgotten that she was certain applied to the situation she now found herself. Words of wisdom handed down from the gods themselves about looking for answers and only finding them when the road ahead became blind. The words of the Lords of Kobol always sounded like that and she was certain that this would have fit into one of the allegories the priests preached so hard on.
Slowly she was starting to believe that every day was going to be her last. That every night was going to be her last night of rest and with it, she was becoming less reckless and more at peace with the situation, more resigned to her life as a civilian, something she hadn’t been even as a child.
To say that her childhood had been peaceful would be a joke from the gods themselves, but as she sat on a blanket laid out on the grass, enjoying the sun, Dee decided that maybe this was the peace she hadn’t been looking for. Her mind drifting slightly, her fingers slipped slightly, knuckles scrapping against the sharp edges of the mess of wires and metal in her hands: the workings of what would hopefully become a set of switches.
“Frak,” she cursed, shaking her hand before sucking on the throbbing and bleeding knuckle. She should’ve known to think like that.
[open to any & all, and it's naturally a good time to meet her]
Slowly she was starting to believe that every day was going to be her last. That every night was going to be her last night of rest and with it, she was becoming less reckless and more at peace with the situation, more resigned to her life as a civilian, something she hadn’t been even as a child.
To say that her childhood had been peaceful would be a joke from the gods themselves, but as she sat on a blanket laid out on the grass, enjoying the sun, Dee decided that maybe this was the peace she hadn’t been looking for. Her mind drifting slightly, her fingers slipped slightly, knuckles scrapping against the sharp edges of the mess of wires and metal in her hands: the workings of what would hopefully become a set of switches.
“Frak,” she cursed, shaking her hand before sucking on the throbbing and bleeding knuckle. She should’ve known to think like that.
[open to any & all, and it's naturally a good time to meet her]