open post.

[recreatable]

Comments

[recreatable]

You know, it's quite impressive that you've managed to analyze and intellectualize even insomnia.

But I think I don't want tomorrow to come, either. [ For a very different reason, but still. ]

[savante]

[ With a touch of dry humour: ] I hear they also call it ‘revenge bedtime procrastination’.

Anyway. I over-analyse everything. Perhaps sometimes a pipe is just a pipe, and you’re simply very frightened of wrinkles.

[recreatable]

Most of the time I don't dream at all. I guess anything is an improvement there.

[savante]

Not at all? I’d have thought it might be the opposite: more memories to draw on.

Then again, it’s not like I’ve studied other immortals.

[recreatable]

You mean like the studying you're doing now?

But no, not at all. Just oppressive blackness. Like being stuck in a dark cave.

[savante]

Like that dark cave to the northeast?

[ The sinister cave had gotten under her skin in a way other places hadn’t. The oppressive silence, with nothing but the sound of your own footsteps and your heartbeat in your ears. The silhouette of the dead gestral merchant rising up out of the shadows: uncanny, disquieting. ]

[recreatable]

Yeah.

[ Unsettling nothingness. Walls closing in. Feeling like you can't breathe. Typical dark and tortured stuff. ]

Like that.

[savante]

Do you have any advice on falling asleep in the darkness, then, Mssr. Professional Brooder?

[recreatable]

[ Girl, you are asking the wrong person!!! ]

Nope. Absolutely none. But I've heard it can make the time pass faster if you have someone else to share it with.

[ :-) ]

[savante]

[ She walked right into that one. ]

You could take dictation for my notes, perhaps, and make yourself useful—

[recreatable]

Ah. Now I see why you wanted my resume.

You're looking for a research assistant.

[savante]

[ Lune wrinkles her nose. But he’s not exactly wrong. ]

Mm. Perhaps. I'm the youngest; I didn't have anyone below me to bully into doing my paperwork. Besides Tristan, and he's

[ dead, as everyone else in their Expedition died on those dark sands, ]

no longer with us.

[recreatable]

[ Quick, quick, distract from the sadness: ] I happen to be excellent at shorthand.

[savante]

[ With interest: ] Are you actually?

Thanks to musical notation, I suppose.

[recreatable]

Not every skill on my resume is thanks to music. There's plenty of time out here to practice new things.

That being said, yes, this one is thanks to music.

[savante]

We've only named four skills and Solitaire so far. You haven't mentioned the rest yet.

[ ok she might just be taking the piss now ]

[recreatable]

Five skills. Solitaire counts.

[ He's, like, so good at it. ]

[savante]

Just one more, and then I accept the resume for review.

[recreatable]

You drive a hard bargain. Hmm.

I'm not half-bad at the waltz.

[savante]

I can't say I've had much opportunity to learn.

[recreatable]

It's not hard to pick up the basics. Once you have a simple box step down, you just have to make variations on it.

But I guess I haven't had much opportunity to practice these days, either.

[savante]

[ Two voices now in the back of her head. One of them sounds very much like her parents, Lune chiding herself: We don't have time for this, we're still headed north, we have work to do. We can't let our guard down for one moment.

The other sounds very much like her older brother, Sol, warm and fond and reminding her: The brain is a muscle, Lune. You need to rest it, too.

So in the end: ]

Would you teach me? We could see if that'll tire us out enough.

[recreatable]

[ They absolutely don't have time for fooling around, and Verso is pragmatic enough to think so, too—but it's not like they're getting anything productive done during his brooding time and her tossing-and-turning time, and it certainly wouldn't hurt to be on better terms with Lune. (For entirely practical reasons.)

So: ] You'll have to refer to me as maître.

[savante]

Ha. Oui, maître de danse.

Where are you, anyway?

[recreatable]

[ He probably should not say 'I took a walk to brood', considering Expeditioners are supposed to use the buddy system. ]

Don't worry about it. The maître will come to you.