[Somehow she did not expect saying it aloud would leave her aching so. But the wild of it, the sense of fury in wait, the sound of waves that can't accomplish anything...it is as though she never really left, and soon she will have to do something else or risk more than enough melancholy for a lifetime. Something besides talking to herself.
There are fires to enjoy, inasmuch as she can; Krile finds herself taking slow steps through the crowd, observing the bustle of those that have come before and the way the whole thing is set up for making camp. Big bonfires, enough food to sate them all conceivably for the night...]
Could they not have waited until morning to send us forth?
[There is no small amount of dry disbelief in the question. Neither does she anticipate an answer. After all, she asked no one, hand to her chin while the other cradles her elbow. Honestly, though! Would it not have been more of a courtesy to all involved if they'd come in the full light of day, rather than this?
So she wonders - privately for now - whether there isn't more to it after all.
Like it or not, she can't deny that she is both hungry and thirsty, which are conveniently louder than the gloom of reality setting in. She sits without fanfare a safe distance from the nearest bonfire where food is visible, contemplating her choices, intentionally heedless of whomever she happened to sit beside.]
--
ii. conspiracy weather
[Comforting as it was to have familiar faces about her during all of this arrival, Krile finds herself kept to herself the next day on their journey to...wherever. Presumably, wherever includes lodgings and other comforts already handled by her friends- ah. Gods. She's getting a headache, suddenly, and in that moment she takes the necessary breath to mutter "not now."
The very next moment sees her sailing through the air, the victim of an impromptu cyclone springing up beneath her feet. She doesn't even have time to shout, and the surprise of the wind steals any further exclamation of shock right out of her breath. What might blow another person over in place has a solid fling effect on an unaware scholar of her stature...
...and, very soon, she is going to land. Sooner than she has time to think about, actually. Her options are few, and she can't control any of them: strike someone? Hit open ground, or worse?
Pray a kind soul nearby notices and can manage to ease her landing?]
--
iii. forgetting might be better
[Without intending it, she has wandered through three strangers' memories already, and while she is quite familiar with the concept and even the inability to dictate where the damn things start and end, to go through so many and different ones in a short stretch...really ought to be more tiring than this. But no headache, no unsteadiness, not even the fringes of unease touch her consciousness, nor does she 'remember' these events as though she is their primary subject, as it were. It is as though she yet walks onward to their real, physical destination.
Plenty of unlikely things have happened to Krile. This world is doing its best to outdo all of them in one fell stroke.
There is a blessed twenty minutes of plain old wild island foliage. A sudden rain.
Krile steps into the next memory with her hood still dripping. Is it one of hers or one of yours? Either way, she's developed a healthy sense of dread all around at the scenery change; most of the things she has seen already are not pleasant.]
--
iv. wildcard!
[Would you prefer something else? Idle conversation as they walk? A bit of different angry weather? Discussion on the merits of where to live? Wildcard me up!!]
Krile Baldesion | FFXIV
Well this feels enough like home.
[Somehow she did not expect saying it aloud would leave her aching so. But the wild of it, the sense of fury in wait, the sound of waves that can't accomplish anything...it is as though she never really left, and soon she will have to do something else or risk more than enough melancholy for a lifetime. Something besides talking to herself.
There are fires to enjoy, inasmuch as she can; Krile finds herself taking slow steps through the crowd, observing the bustle of those that have come before and the way the whole thing is set up for making camp. Big bonfires, enough food to sate them all conceivably for the night...]
Could they not have waited until morning to send us forth?
[There is no small amount of dry disbelief in the question. Neither does she anticipate an answer. After all, she asked no one, hand to her chin while the other cradles her elbow. Honestly, though! Would it not have been more of a courtesy to all involved if they'd come in the full light of day, rather than this?
So she wonders - privately for now - whether there isn't more to it after all.
Like it or not, she can't deny that she is both hungry and thirsty, which are conveniently louder than the gloom of reality setting in. She sits without fanfare a safe distance from the nearest bonfire where food is visible, contemplating her choices, intentionally heedless of whomever she happened to sit beside.]
--
ii. conspiracy weather
[Comforting as it was to have familiar faces about her during all of this arrival, Krile finds herself kept to herself the next day on their journey to...wherever. Presumably, wherever includes lodgings and other comforts already handled by her friends- ah. Gods. She's getting a headache, suddenly, and in that moment she takes the necessary breath to mutter "not now."
The very next moment sees her sailing through the air, the victim of an impromptu cyclone springing up beneath her feet. She doesn't even have time to shout, and the surprise of the wind steals any further exclamation of shock right out of her breath. What might blow another person over in place has a solid fling effect on an unaware scholar of her stature...
...and, very soon, she is going to land. Sooner than she has time to think about, actually. Her options are few, and she can't control any of them: strike someone? Hit open ground, or worse?
Pray a kind soul nearby notices and can manage to ease her landing?]
--
iii. forgetting might be better
[Without intending it, she has wandered through three strangers' memories already, and while she is quite familiar with the concept and even the inability to dictate where the damn things start and end, to go through so many and different ones in a short stretch...really ought to be more tiring than this. But no headache, no unsteadiness, not even the fringes of unease touch her consciousness, nor does she 'remember' these events as though she is their primary subject, as it were. It is as though she yet walks onward to their real, physical destination.
Plenty of unlikely things have happened to Krile. This world is doing its best to outdo all of them in one fell stroke.
There is a blessed twenty minutes of plain old wild island foliage. A sudden rain.
Krile steps into the next memory with her hood still dripping. Is it one of hers or one of yours? Either way, she's developed a healthy sense of dread all around at the scenery change; most of the things she has seen already are not pleasant.]
--
iv. wildcard!
[Would you prefer something else? Idle conversation as they walk? A bit of different angry weather? Discussion on the merits of where to live? Wildcard me up!!]