the voice wants to be a hand and the hand wants to be something useful
Fuck. Between Sunjata knowing about near everything that came out of his mouth, at least in a way, and the other people he’d met from earth, Nate had never considered having to explain something from his past to someone else. ”A movies uh... like a play, but... if you copied that play into something you could watch whenever you wanted.” That made sense, right? Blessedly, cars were easier. ”A car is a horseless carriage.” Simple. No room for follow up questions, obviously.
”Melita, uh... red haired little spitfire.” Nate holds his hand out about as high as the mentioned girl, give or take a few inches. And he could leave it at that, almost does, but Bastien deserves to have some of his confusion alleviated. ”She’s Sunjata’s niece, when she came from. The times are all kinda weird, far as I understand it.”
Nate’s not necessarily sure he agrees with the artists idea. Gods seem like the kind of things that are defined by their ways. If they do not stay concrete, what keeps them together at all? But at the same time, he’s been surprised before. By Safrin, of course, and not Ludo, but one exception could mean there’s more. ”Im going to hope you’re right.” Nate offered, turning his focus back on his art.
Bastien didn’t have to say it for the thought to be obvious. ”Come on, this is clearly a ghost” Nate shakes his little doll, the paper rustling as he does. There is room for improvement though, and he gets to it right away, returning again to the shelf to find a bit of clay that can be crudely shaped into a plain mask, and attached to the head of his ghost.
”Melita, uh... red haired little spitfire.” Nate holds his hand out about as high as the mentioned girl, give or take a few inches. And he could leave it at that, almost does, but Bastien deserves to have some of his confusion alleviated. ”She’s Sunjata’s niece, when she came from. The times are all kinda weird, far as I understand it.”
Nate’s not necessarily sure he agrees with the artists idea. Gods seem like the kind of things that are defined by their ways. If they do not stay concrete, what keeps them together at all? But at the same time, he’s been surprised before. By Safrin, of course, and not Ludo, but one exception could mean there’s more. ”Im going to hope you’re right.” Nate offered, turning his focus back on his art.
Bastien didn’t have to say it for the thought to be obvious. ”Come on, this is clearly a ghost” Nate shakes his little doll, the paper rustling as he does. There is room for improvement though, and he gets to it right away, returning again to the shelf to find a bit of clay that can be crudely shaped into a plain mask, and attached to the head of his ghost.
NATE
