[open] channeling angels in a new age, now.

[priorly]

Who: Prior Walter (priorly) & you??
What: Catch all logs for October!
When: October!
Where: various
Warning(s): language, likely mention of terminal illness (AIDS). Adult themes?
Notes: Please PM me if you'd like a starter, or feel free to wildcard me anytime.

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[ofobedience]

[Another quiet ripple of laughter at that, as though he understands the joke when in truth he isn't sure what cacti might be. But there are things he misses, things he longs for sickly despite that there is no comfort in them, only a sense of grounding, a sense of knowing the world and one's place within it. The flickering electric lights and the bright white walls and halls of the buried facility he calls home, the antiseptic overlay that could never quite hide the scent of blood. Even the madding crowds of the Underground, of looking up at twisting wires and concrete darkness, of that sensation of being securely contained.

He misses those things. The sky, big and bright and open as a wound-- it unsettles him. He isn't sure he'll ever get used to it. All this freedom that he doesn't know what to do with.]

Not comforts, but reassurances, perhaps. Certainties. Although I suppose one could say there's comfort to be taken from the familiar, no matter how hard that familiar might be.

[And as they walk through this strange new city's streets, he carefully keeps his gaze from straying too far upward, toward the wide openness above them. Tries to focus, instead, on the things he understands.]

And perhaps a different question, then. What is the strangest thing about this place, for you?

[priorly]

You miss the familiar, even when the familiar was cruel to you? I do understand that.

[He'd like not to, but has spent far too long missing the man who walked out on him when he was dying to dispute it. It's a bare trifle compared to Gio's past life. But missing something that hurt you? Prior can speak to that.

Certainties, though, are a less solid thing. Certainty is something you get conned into believing. A cosmic pyramid scheme that only tumbles under you in the end. Best not dwell on anything he used to think was certain.]

As for the strangest thing - magic perhaps. Although even then, we had stories about it. We were just taught it wasn't real. It's hard to pick one thing, though. This whole world's a trip.

[ofobedience]

[He understands it, he says, missing the familiar even when it's hard and cruel and cutting, and as a result Giovanni smiles his lopsided smile. A small thing, maybe, that assertion of understanding, but in their current situation (and perhaps even beyond that, perhaps always, as far back as he can remember) small things are worth holding onto.

But he says nothing of it, not overtly, turns his focus instead onto Prior's answer to the question he'd asked. Finds himself nodding, just once. Perhaps their words were wildly divergent things, he's yet to hear much about the one Prior hails from, but this - at least - provides a point of commonality.]

There was no magic in my world, either. At least, none that I'd ever seen or heard of outside of fictional tales and the slight of hand kind one finds amongst street performers. We had only science with which to create our wonders.

[Said a little dryly, a little slyly. Wonders-- it isn't the right word. Isn't how he'd refer to himself.]