[ There is a gilded 45 on the Monolith, and Sciel is 20 years old.
The Crooked Tower is a new find, and one she's especially grateful for today. Today, with the suffocating blizzard of petals in the harbor, the Tower offers a respite from-...everything.
Her legs dangle over the edge of the platform: the drop beneath is dizzying. ]
- I know they're up there, Dad, but...can't really see the stars at the moment. [ There's a weak, lopsided smile as she cranes her neck, gazing up at the clouds above the Dome. Those distant specks of light would show eventually, but she finds herself desperately, painfully, wishing they could peek out...just for a moment. The need to talk to someone about anything, to fill the silence of loss of another Gommage with anything, is intense. ]
Maybe...they can still hear me? [ Sciel tilts her head the other way, sighing slowly into the quiet. ] Bonjour up there! It's me. Are you taking good care of everyone? ...I won't ask if you're watching out for the rest of us, but I hope you're at least giving all our loved ones the best you've got.
[ Or, if not that, then she lets herself hope they're at least comfortably nonexistent.
There's a stretch of silence, then an abrupt noise of realization: ]
Ah, merde. Left the bottle at the bottom...
[ So much for drinking herself into oblivion up here tonight. Not without a hike back down, anyway. ]
for attheendofthegame
The Crooked Tower is a new find, and one she's especially grateful for today. Today, with the suffocating blizzard of petals in the harbor, the Tower offers a respite from-...everything.
Her legs dangle over the edge of the platform: the drop beneath is dizzying. ]
- I know they're up there, Dad, but...can't really see the stars at the moment. [ There's a weak, lopsided smile as she cranes her neck, gazing up at the clouds above the Dome. Those distant specks of light would show eventually, but she finds herself desperately, painfully, wishing they could peek out...just for a moment. The need to talk to someone about anything, to fill the silence of loss of another Gommage with anything, is intense. ]
Maybe...they can still hear me? [ Sciel tilts her head the other way, sighing slowly into the quiet. ] Bonjour up there! It's me. Are you taking good care of everyone? ...I won't ask if you're watching out for the rest of us, but I hope you're at least giving all our loved ones the best you've got.
[ Or, if not that, then she lets herself hope they're at least comfortably nonexistent.
There's a stretch of silence, then an abrupt noise of realization: ]
Ah, merde. Left the bottle at the bottom...
[ So much for drinking herself into oblivion up here tonight. Not without a hike back down, anyway. ]