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taxonomites2010-02-24 02:52 am
hercandleguides.livejournal.com) wrote in taxonomites2010-02-24 02:52 am
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003. (visual) a list of the qualities a good girl lacks
"Hello, Taxon."
Leila greets anyone paying attention out there with a small smile, seated as she is on a grassy section in the forest, several paces away from the greenhouse Sol (and now Ambrose) has occupied, though it's not quite in view, thus making her location more difficult to distinguish. She's sleeveless, today, which means much of her white ink clockwork tattoo is exposed; she's proud of it, so she sees no reason not to show it off.
"So," she begins, "I've been wondering a few things: why do you think so many people here come from the same world? It's overwhelmingly dominated by people from Earth, and it seems to primarily be modern-day Earth, at that.
"Many of us seem to speak the same common language- our captors' idea of convenience, possibly? English isn't my first language, but I'm fluent enough in it. The relatively low level of apparent ethnic diversity can be rationalized, but if we're really all abducted by aliens, they certainly seem to have their preferences when it comes to targets, don't they? I don't have any answers here, but I'm certain I'm not the only one still asking questions. Maybe between us some sort of conclusion can be reached, eventually, and with data we can make progress- I'm aware by now I'm not the only scientist present, but if anyone else I have yet to meet happens to fall into the same profession, please introduce yourselves. I'm listening."
She's not going to admit she's the youngest researcher in her group at home and probably here, too, and thus knows the expertise of others is necessary, but she is aware, at least. This is followed by a careful, considering pause; Leila's been very detachedly amiable up to this point, and avoided being too technical, by her own standards, but now her tone changes to something cooler and more controlled, which in her is generally a tough-skinned cover for guardedness.
"Oh. One more thing. These glitches that people experience. How long do they usually last?"
Leila greets anyone paying attention out there with a small smile, seated as she is on a grassy section in the forest, several paces away from the greenhouse Sol (and now Ambrose) has occupied, though it's not quite in view, thus making her location more difficult to distinguish. She's sleeveless, today, which means much of her white ink clockwork tattoo is exposed; she's proud of it, so she sees no reason not to show it off.
"So," she begins, "I've been wondering a few things: why do you think so many people here come from the same world? It's overwhelmingly dominated by people from Earth, and it seems to primarily be modern-day Earth, at that.
"Many of us seem to speak the same common language- our captors' idea of convenience, possibly? English isn't my first language, but I'm fluent enough in it. The relatively low level of apparent ethnic diversity can be rationalized, but if we're really all abducted by aliens, they certainly seem to have their preferences when it comes to targets, don't they? I don't have any answers here, but I'm certain I'm not the only one still asking questions. Maybe between us some sort of conclusion can be reached, eventually, and with data we can make progress- I'm aware by now I'm not the only scientist present, but if anyone else I have yet to meet happens to fall into the same profession, please introduce yourselves. I'm listening."
She's not going to admit she's the youngest researcher in her group at home and probably here, too, and thus knows the expertise of others is necessary, but she is aware, at least. This is followed by a careful, considering pause; Leila's been very detachedly amiable up to this point, and avoided being too technical, by her own standards, but now her tone changes to something cooler and more controlled, which in her is generally a tough-skinned cover for guardedness.
"Oh. One more thing. These glitches that people experience. How long do they usually last?"
[ location :: the forest ]
She laughs, suddenly, as though realization has struck her, and shakes her head at herself. Newfound understanding prompted by Solomon's reincarnation--it's unsettling, and if she had longer to process, to throw up her guard, she wouldn't say anything about it, but it's too new, and she doesn't stop herself in time. "I think I wanted all of that, the things he was supposed to have with her, but I didn't think- he's everything I wanted. But for someone else. I can't forget that."
Now Leila interrupts herself.
"We've been sitting out here too long. Don't you think?"
[ location :: the forest ]
"Go inside, then," he suggests, cold despite the fire in front of him, not unkind. (It's not fair to her to hate their life in front of her.)
[ location :: the forest ]
She hesitates, though, at the doorway, as though she might add something-- but what she says is, "I do love him, though, you know. And therefore you, by extension, as weird as that must be for you to contemplate. That's got to mean something."
In she goes.
[ location :: the forest ]
That she loves him - of course, it means everything. Of course she must, and he's slowly grateful for it, the weary and worn parts of him that couldn't live this without something familiar to grasp. It's everything he hears about his own self from her that skews it confusing and alien and wrong; he looks at Leila and he can hear Sanchari screaming where he can't reach her and everything that edges out from under frayed edges seems so patently unfair.
(Sol will later reflect that this is a whole new sort of self-loathing the couples counsellor Tonya made him go to once or twice would have a field day with. Ambrose just wishes he knew how to fix it for her, for a while, like she's trying to take care of him.)