11-18-2016, 03:04 AM
Kelly hurried to follow, suppressing a growing sense of irritation.
It wasn't the grindingly bitter arctic temperatures, or even Amber's cheerful enjoyment of the biting cold that bothered him - it was the fact that he was certain he should be used to this, that he should understand what she meant. The sharp, almost metallic scent of the ice and the searing tingle of the wind were triggering pleasant, hazy associations: pride, determination and a nostalgic sense of community, the details shrouded in an almost mocking haze.
The traitorous reality, however, was just plain awful. This weather was sheer misery. Whatever experience he'd had in places like this, he was getting no benefit from it now. Stomping along behind his feline-featured guide, the traveler clenched and unclenched his fists, forcing blood through his fingers. He scrunched his nose, worked his jaw, and wiggled his toes inside his boots. For the second time since arriving in the Omniverse, he felt like he'd been robbed.
Out loud, enunciating carefully to keep his teeth from chattering, he said, "I think I can manage. As for where I'm from... everywhere, I suppose. I traveled a lot, for a very long time: fighting, learning, meeting people. Other stuff. It's all a bit of a blur, honestly. And my 'angle'... well, once I've found out more about this place, I'll let you know. I'm still working a lot of things out."
It was a simple reply that, while true, managed to contain very little information without seeming evasive or incorporating any actual lies. Kelly tried to take some satisfaction in that, but with the cold stinging his eyes, and the oppressive sense that something monumental had been stolen much harder to banish with the cloying smell of winter all around him, it was a small comfort.
Better to look to the future.
Soon, he would know more, and knowledge begat purpose. Once the traveler had a more-than-short-term goal, the roots of a real strategy tree, he could sit down somewhere safe (so as not to stroll obliviously into more passersby) and attempt to delve into the mysteries in his head. Right now though, the short-term was all he had, and in the short term he was freezing and upset, so he kept the conversation going in an effort to remain productive.
"What about you, Amber? I'm guessing you don't usually spend your time leading lost strangers through the snow. What do you do?"
It wasn't the grindingly bitter arctic temperatures, or even Amber's cheerful enjoyment of the biting cold that bothered him - it was the fact that he was certain he should be used to this, that he should understand what she meant. The sharp, almost metallic scent of the ice and the searing tingle of the wind were triggering pleasant, hazy associations: pride, determination and a nostalgic sense of community, the details shrouded in an almost mocking haze.
The traitorous reality, however, was just plain awful. This weather was sheer misery. Whatever experience he'd had in places like this, he was getting no benefit from it now. Stomping along behind his feline-featured guide, the traveler clenched and unclenched his fists, forcing blood through his fingers. He scrunched his nose, worked his jaw, and wiggled his toes inside his boots. For the second time since arriving in the Omniverse, he felt like he'd been robbed.
Out loud, enunciating carefully to keep his teeth from chattering, he said, "I think I can manage. As for where I'm from... everywhere, I suppose. I traveled a lot, for a very long time: fighting, learning, meeting people. Other stuff. It's all a bit of a blur, honestly. And my 'angle'... well, once I've found out more about this place, I'll let you know. I'm still working a lot of things out."
It was a simple reply that, while true, managed to contain very little information without seeming evasive or incorporating any actual lies. Kelly tried to take some satisfaction in that, but with the cold stinging his eyes, and the oppressive sense that something monumental had been stolen much harder to banish with the cloying smell of winter all around him, it was a small comfort.
Better to look to the future.
Soon, he would know more, and knowledge begat purpose. Once the traveler had a more-than-short-term goal, the roots of a real strategy tree, he could sit down somewhere safe (so as not to stroll obliviously into more passersby) and attempt to delve into the mysteries in his head. Right now though, the short-term was all he had, and in the short term he was freezing and upset, so he kept the conversation going in an effort to remain productive.
"What about you, Amber? I'm guessing you don't usually spend your time leading lost strangers through the snow. What do you do?"