firstworldproblem | IC Inbox - Snakes on Serpentine Horizon

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!serpentine_horizon

IC Inbox - Snakes on Serpentine Horizon

[It just goes to a beep.]

[ he takes it and with a quick hand gesture lets it dissipate ]

You held it in your hand. What do you think?

I’ve given you so much information with so little in return, I fon’t feel like giving a straight answer.

Why not provide me with a demonstration of your own?

What do I think...? What was it. 'He’s far more dangerous than his attitude suggests.'

Ah. Do you truly care about my opinion? I will admit it is rather novel. Like you, I am not used to people listening. Not really anyway. Not unless they want something.

And you and I listen because we want the same thing. One might think it power or information or advantage over the other, but it is really more simple than that. We desire stability. And understanding of where we stand. And so we listen to puzzle out what is meant between lines. Words unsaid.

As for a demonstration... well, I've only done this once. My power is not what it was. Not here. But I will need some help.

What place do you desire to be in this very moment? Think of it. Hold onto it in your mind's eye.

[ he seems pleased with the speech right until the last moment - in fact, just being asked to picture a place he wants to be in seems to piss him off ]

We’re not testing my imagination. Use your own.

[He laughs.]

Goodness. Are you also going to tell me nostalgia is a waste of time and effort?

Your words, not mine. Feel free to be all nostalgic so long as you don’t drag me in it.

Better than the last time. Alright. It won't be impressive without one of your memories however. Of course, I can conjure up my own.

[He snaps his fingers and for the briefest, absolute briefest of moments they are knee deep in snow in front of a gigantic metal building. A city, perhaps a capital in the middle of a frozen and blizzard laden region. But this city is thriving with citizen milling about, a train running, life and technology. All the hustle and bustle in his ears. The crisp wind in his nose. The sharp tang of winter on his tongue.

But only for the briefest of moments. True Creation cannot exist here after all. Only the echo of its passing.]

[ he’s immediately in full observation mode the moment he’s caught in it. He knows the sharp, bitter cold of winter. Even more than the rest of it all, that solidifies that it cannot be a simple illusion ]

… how unfortunate that this place is shackling you so. I wonder if you can make just about anything appear … creating it, and not just faking its existence.

[He simply shrugs his shoulders at the musings.]

Satisfied, then? With today's lesson.

For the time being. And you? I feel like we may have reached some of that stability.

I would agree.

But such predictability isn't always entertaining, is it? I do wish you a good day. And a good journey back.

[And he teleports out leaving Scaramouche there. Like the asshole he is.]

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IC Inbox - Snakes on Serpentine Horizon

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