"Then your life isn't over." It's not a rebuke, but Michelle's come from a life where she had everything, to almost nothing. "You have to find other things, more important things, to fill it with."
But she is still alive, and has Eli, so that feels like almost everything to her.
Nazca sighs a bit. "I wasn't precisely being metaphorical, but I suppose your point stands. Feeling sorry for myself won't accomplish much."
She found it odd, in some ways, that she had scars, from where the scorpionhawk had laid into her. Just as odd as the fact she still needed lenses to see, she supposed, if a bit more morbid. But simply resigning herself to passivity was out of character for Nazca, and she shouldn't have indulged herself.
"No, it doesn't, and there are plenty of other things to fill your time." Michelle should know, a 4 month old can take up more time than she previously thought possible. Though Eli is Michelle's greatest accomplishment, a literal miracle and not in the way most new parents will claim.
"So what you're really looking for is something to do?"
"I suppose so, at its most basic." Nazca tilts her head. "I can find plenty of things to simply use to fill time. But I spent the entirety of my life working toward a goal, and now I cannot return to it, so I'm looking for... purpose," she settles on, "more than a way to relieve boredom."
Serafina has been sitting quietly in the agora whilst meditating on her surroundings. When she recognises the voice of the person asking the questions, she listens intently, before answering. "Then I would say your life is not truly over. And that what you want to do depends entirely on yourself."
"A person can never be truly self-sufficient. In some way, at some point, they have to depend on barter or kin-folk. Or friends. But at this point, in new surroundings, I would recommend learning as many skills as possible. Since I know how to hunt, to cook, to create shelter, start a fire and defend myself, I can go wherever I please. Once you have those things in order, you can decide where to go or what to do from there on."
Nazca nods. The advice is practical, and she appreciates it. "There are certainly some skills I could cultivate, that's true." (Her skills right now are mainly manipulation, math, and drinking large men under the table.)
"Have you discovered any more about this place, since I saw you last?"
Serafina is in favour of any skill (including manipulation, hello Lyra) so long as you can do it well and you feel comfortable doing so.
"I'm beginning to. In my world, I am at peace with my surroundings. Here it will take time but I'm beginning to gain some understanding. This place produces so much beauty and so much chaos. It is unlike anything I've ever known, including the other worlds I have travelled to."
"Carefully," is the dry answer from a tall gentleman currently occupying one of the agora's benches- in his waistcoat and shirtsleeves, well-dressed and exquisitely untrustworthy. His head is tilted back as he adjusts the way his eyepatch is sitting, but he straightens to catch a glimpse of her with his remaining eye (dark, very dark) as he smiles sardonically. "One does it very carefully."
She smiles a bit, a closed, sharp-edged smile. "Most things," she observes, "benefit from being done carefully, I find. To a greater or lesser extent."
He's a Right Person if she ever saw one, and it probably says something about Nazca that his evident untrustworthiness reassures her.
"Literal." She comes over a bit closer, though she doesn't sit. "I think it's fair to observe that this is not the sort of afterlife I was led to expect."
Comments 38
But she is still alive, and has Eli, so that feels like almost everything to her.
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She found it odd, in some ways, that she had scars, from where the scorpionhawk had laid into her. Just as odd as the fact she still needed lenses to see, she supposed, if a bit more morbid. But simply resigning herself to passivity was out of character for Nazca, and she shouldn't have indulged herself.
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"So what you're really looking for is something to do?"
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"A person can never be truly self-sufficient. In some way, at some point, they have to depend on barter or kin-folk. Or friends. But at this point, in new surroundings, I would recommend learning as many skills as possible. Since I know how to hunt, to cook, to create shelter, start a fire and defend myself, I can go wherever I please. Once you have those things in order, you can decide where to go or what to do from there on."
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"Have you discovered any more about this place, since I saw you last?"
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"I'm beginning to. In my world, I am at peace with my surroundings. Here it will take time but I'm beginning to gain some understanding. This place produces so much beauty and so much chaos. It is unlike anything I've ever known, including the other worlds I have travelled to."
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To put it mildly.
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"Carefully," is the dry answer from a tall gentleman currently occupying one of the agora's benches- in his waistcoat and shirtsleeves, well-dressed and exquisitely untrustworthy. His head is tilted back as he adjusts the way his eyepatch is sitting, but he straightens to catch a glimpse of her with his remaining eye (dark, very dark) as he smiles sardonically. "One does it very carefully."
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He's a Right Person if she ever saw one, and it probably says something about Nazca that his evident untrustworthiness reassures her.
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"Most," he concedes, and then with a smile that is sharp, brief and not at all good, "but not all."
...he does enjoy a little well-timed recklessness. Never you mind.
"Are we speaking of a literal or a figurative death, little sister?"
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