oia
“How?” You repeat, thinking that the appropriate question was something much more like why did you meet Rae. The answer to how probably dealt with the physicality and permanence of objects through time, and something else about social customs. But even in this you’re fairly sure that isn’t what he means. “Well, after they planted my twin and I and we grew to completion, they came to check on us. Then our training began.” For a moment you blink, and then remember something Kai had told you. “Rae gave life to me.” Not birth, because you weren’t born but grown. But still, knowing the lineage would probably halt most of Loren’s questions that your earlier explanation hadn’t covered.
You nod at this bit of information, scribbling something down in your notebook. It is interesting that these mutations are known of, meaning that perhaps they have become accepted, or that they are more prevalent than your records would have otherwise led you to believe.
“Nearly everything.” You reply with a concise blink. But you’re an infallibilist, so you’re always open to the possibility of error. Even so, on such mundane subjects such as magic, you are fairly confident.
As he explains your misstep, rather than looking bothered, you look somewhat grateful. Or at least, as graceful as your inexpressive features allow you to seem. “Apology.” You say; for you, the word sums up whatever justification or explanation you might have given. Kai has taught you that when someone tells you that you have made a mistake, that you are to apologize, and so you do. “May I examine you?” You add, demonstrating that you can learn from your mistakes.
As he begins to describe his arrival, you turn to your notes and record everything in shorthand. “Describe your arrival. What was the portal like? Where you given an explanation as to why you were chosen? Did you feel your matter being reformatted? Did you arrive with anything new?”
You nod at this bit of information, scribbling something down in your notebook. It is interesting that these mutations are known of, meaning that perhaps they have become accepted, or that they are more prevalent than your records would have otherwise led you to believe.
“Nearly everything.” You reply with a concise blink. But you’re an infallibilist, so you’re always open to the possibility of error. Even so, on such mundane subjects such as magic, you are fairly confident.
As he explains your misstep, rather than looking bothered, you look somewhat grateful. Or at least, as graceful as your inexpressive features allow you to seem. “Apology.” You say; for you, the word sums up whatever justification or explanation you might have given. Kai has taught you that when someone tells you that you have made a mistake, that you are to apologize, and so you do. “May I examine you?” You add, demonstrating that you can learn from your mistakes.
As he begins to describe his arrival, you turn to your notes and record everything in shorthand. “Describe your arrival. What was the portal like? Where you given an explanation as to why you were chosen? Did you feel your matter being reformatted? Did you arrive with anything new?”
of course it's exhausting, having to reason all
the time in a universe which wasn't meant to be reasonable.
the time in a universe which wasn't meant to be reasonable.
