the voice wants to be a hand and the hand wants to be something useful
"I mean, we had movies, and cars. I'd say that was probably an improvement to whatever you had when you came from." There's was more, so much more that Nate could talk about, medical advances and unbelievable wars and disasters and perseverance. Man had landed on the moon, for god's sake. But... he missed his car, probably more than anything else he'd lost upon coming to Caido.
"My niece is... close to it. As much as you can be to a God, I suppose." It was his main source of information about the herald, save for a brief appearance at the prior years Festival of Lights. "I've heard it's not particularly fond of Us though." The emphasis of his voice makes it clear the Us he speaks about is the Family, a glance spared towards the artist, Nate waiting for the response to his words before continuing.
Bastien's reaction to his 'art' has Nate bursting into laughter, his mix of ink and plaster left on the table so his hands can be put to better use holding himself up. "I thought you said you wanted to see bad art?" He teased, perhaps revelling in the ace that he'd proven his fellow ascended wrong so quickly. "It's not done yet either." Though, progress didn't exactly seem promising, the entire head of his paper ghost dipped into the inky mess of plaster he'd prepared, coating it fairly well, even considering the few drops that dripped like stalactites down the dolls neck.
"My niece is... close to it. As much as you can be to a God, I suppose." It was his main source of information about the herald, save for a brief appearance at the prior years Festival of Lights. "I've heard it's not particularly fond of Us though." The emphasis of his voice makes it clear the Us he speaks about is the Family, a glance spared towards the artist, Nate waiting for the response to his words before continuing.
Bastien's reaction to his 'art' has Nate bursting into laughter, his mix of ink and plaster left on the table so his hands can be put to better use holding himself up. "I thought you said you wanted to see bad art?" He teased, perhaps revelling in the ace that he'd proven his fellow ascended wrong so quickly. "It's not done yet either." Though, progress didn't exactly seem promising, the entire head of his paper ghost dipped into the inky mess of plaster he'd prepared, coating it fairly well, even considering the few drops that dripped like stalactites down the dolls neck.
NATE
