I write sins, not tragedies
Three years ago... sighing a little wistfully, Wessex nods. “Four years ago for me. I could still get drunk. Hadn’t Ascended. No Outlanders to be seen.” Her anti-Outlander sentiments have died down over the years, even though she can’t help but feel some lingering resentment towards the ones who came and are now potentially her biggest enemies. “Seems both entirely too long and too short a time.”
Yet without them, they’d probably still be barrier-bound, and that dichotomy has always been at odds with Wessex. She supposes she has a different sort of relationship to Outlanders than Noah does. One day she might even have to see him on the other side…
Pushing that thought from her head, Wessex opens the door to the house and sets her basket outside. “It was a decoy for the Monsters, to burn ‘em in.” she begins, shaking her head already. “We planned and planned and tried to prepare for it but in the end none of it mattered unless we had weapons or siphoned abilities. The Voice gave us some upgrades. Those really saved our asses.” And she is very thankful for that, but it feels too much like a giant metaphor still; no matter how much they plan and prepare and try to take life into their own hands, too much of it will be in the hands of the Gods.
"Now it'll be repurposed. We have some rebuilding to do."
Yet without them, they’d probably still be barrier-bound, and that dichotomy has always been at odds with Wessex. She supposes she has a different sort of relationship to Outlanders than Noah does. One day she might even have to see him on the other side…
Pushing that thought from her head, Wessex opens the door to the house and sets her basket outside. “It was a decoy for the Monsters, to burn ‘em in.” she begins, shaking her head already. “We planned and planned and tried to prepare for it but in the end none of it mattered unless we had weapons or siphoned abilities. The Voice gave us some upgrades. Those really saved our asses.” And she is very thankful for that, but it feels too much like a giant metaphor still; no matter how much they plan and prepare and try to take life into their own hands, too much of it will be in the hands of the Gods.
"Now it'll be repurposed. We have some rebuilding to do."
WESSEX
