AURELIA
and my hands aren't clean
maybe they never will be
maybe they never will be
Aurelia paused at his question, thinking back to her home world and her city. "Nothing like this," she grumbled, as if she were bitter that was the case. Perhaps she didn't mind the Ludo celebration as much as she led on.
Reaching down, she grabbed her knife. It had come with her to Caido from her old world. It had been crafted by her own father, a gift for her late mother. How fitting that she should use it for making the doll and the lantern. It was a simple, yet elegant multi-purpose blade. The handle was finely crafted with all the love and care that a husband could put into such a gift. A small symbol of a flame was carved into the top of the handle. Aurelia's gaze traveled away from it and up to Gideon, as she turned the blade towards her and gave it to him.
"Death wasn't something we dwelled on. It's something that happened, and it happened a lot. Cities and passages were built under the ground so that people didn't have to go up to the surface for any reason, except for exploration or hunting. But if you surfaced? It's the stuff of nightmares," she shook her head and looked back over her assortment of items. She wouldn't go into too many details unless he pried for them. It was an unpleasant subject for her, to recall all the different ways a person could die just from stepping aboveground, "but it's not like the cities were much better. If you didn't die from being eaten alive by wild animals, you got sick from working in the factories, or you starved on the streets."
"Oh... Priests in my world stayed sober...at least, publicly," she shrugged, glancing back up at him as he took the bottle. "They'd encourage people not to drink or smoke or anything, 'for God will provide' and all that. They'd say your soul was unclean if you did, and you'd have to wash yourself free of your sins. Whatever that means, I don't really know; I didn't spend much time with those types of people and they didn't bother too much with people like me."
Her eyes kept going back to the same piece of driftwood in front of her lap. It was large and bulky, a little too much for what would be desirable from a doll. But at the top center, the wood smoothed out over a small ridge. It looked like a child's face, innocent and young. But the details were lacking, and so it looked almost ghostly; unidentifiable, just another lost face. She'd have to use the knife to make the piece permissible for use, but she had an idea that she thought might work.
"What're you planning on doing for your doll?" She rested her chin in her hand and looked back at Gideon, interested to see what progress he might've been making.
Reaching down, she grabbed her knife. It had come with her to Caido from her old world. It had been crafted by her own father, a gift for her late mother. How fitting that she should use it for making the doll and the lantern. It was a simple, yet elegant multi-purpose blade. The handle was finely crafted with all the love and care that a husband could put into such a gift. A small symbol of a flame was carved into the top of the handle. Aurelia's gaze traveled away from it and up to Gideon, as she turned the blade towards her and gave it to him.
"Death wasn't something we dwelled on. It's something that happened, and it happened a lot. Cities and passages were built under the ground so that people didn't have to go up to the surface for any reason, except for exploration or hunting. But if you surfaced? It's the stuff of nightmares," she shook her head and looked back over her assortment of items. She wouldn't go into too many details unless he pried for them. It was an unpleasant subject for her, to recall all the different ways a person could die just from stepping aboveground, "but it's not like the cities were much better. If you didn't die from being eaten alive by wild animals, you got sick from working in the factories, or you starved on the streets."
"Oh... Priests in my world stayed sober...at least, publicly," she shrugged, glancing back up at him as he took the bottle. "They'd encourage people not to drink or smoke or anything, 'for God will provide' and all that. They'd say your soul was unclean if you did, and you'd have to wash yourself free of your sins. Whatever that means, I don't really know; I didn't spend much time with those types of people and they didn't bother too much with people like me."
Her eyes kept going back to the same piece of driftwood in front of her lap. It was large and bulky, a little too much for what would be desirable from a doll. But at the top center, the wood smoothed out over a small ridge. It looked like a child's face, innocent and young. But the details were lacking, and so it looked almost ghostly; unidentifiable, just another lost face. She'd have to use the knife to make the piece permissible for use, but she had an idea that she thought might work.
"What're you planning on doing for your doll?" She rested her chin in her hand and looked back at Gideon, interested to see what progress he might've been making.
but they can still carry you home
when you're ready to sleep
when you're ready to sleep
