Better than the cold, empty version in the planetarium, I assure you.
[Going over to the podium then, putting his hand on it.
Out unfolds . . . an open field. It's dark out, obviously, considering the idea of having to look for stars, but not very dark out yet, like it's just turned from dusk to truly inky blackness. The grass here is high all around them, tamped down in a fairly large circle where a little camp is set up. Sleeping bags on the ground, packs leaned against a cart - painted in a bright pattern that now wearing off, and a couple of horses graze quietly nearby.
A campfire is dying down in the middle of the area, sending a bit of smoke into the sky. There's no one else around close by, but off in the distance, there's two people sitting fairly close together. It's hard to tell exactly what they look like from here, but they seem relaxed.
And then, of course, the stars. It's a brilliantly clear sky, stars scattered across brightly - easy to see against the navy backdrop. They blot out behind the shape of mountains in the distance.]
She takes a look at the entire scene they find themselves in, from the field to the dwindling fire - but it's the sky that takes her attention after a few seconds. She takes a seat carefully, setting her hand on the grass as she looks up.]
[Given the age listed on his profile, at least. It's gently teasing, but she nods.]
We had weather and things like that, even though we were always inside, but...
[It was all created by magic, none of it real. Even though this isn't real either, she can tell the difference. She shifts so she's lying on her back.]
It isn't my best story, you know. There's much better ones I can tell.
[Thinking, foot waggling a bit while he considers.]
The one about how I was raised as a foundling by halflings. Or about how I'm a dragon, stuck in this human-like form? My new favorite is I was kidnapped and raised by a cult, my blood used in their dark rituals until, one day, someone accidentally left the door open and I ran free.
[She shifts slightly, turning over to look at him with a laugh.]
Why do I get the feeling all of your favorite stories about yourself aren't true? You should take more pride in the real one! In the end, it's all you have, right?
[The moment seems to pass fairly quickly for him anyway. It isn't even so much she said something wrong as it seems to be something he . . . doesn't like thinking about.]
Maybe - maybe for some people? I can't make decisions for everyone. You'll have to make your own choice on that. Sometimes people need a path, or are looking for a path. But I don't think my past is particularly important.
. . . How do you see me now? Is there some truth you could learn that would change how you see me, as I am in this moment?
[This feels like a serious moment, and she continues looking over his way while she decides exactly how to answer.]
The second question's easier. Probably not, but... Well, you don't have to say yes or no to this, but is there something you're worried about people finding out? Or are you just worried about how people see you? You shouldn't be, for either. It's a waste of time.
[As for the first question he asked, with a sigh:]
[There's a beat while he considers all her questions, and then the second statement and he just gives an incredibly loud bark of laughter and spooks one of the VR horses who snorts and trots off a bit]
Thank gods! I thought I was losing my touch. Yes, I'm very weird. Professionally weird even.
[This is very much a compliment to him, apparently]
You're strange too. When a weirdo asked you if there was anything that would change your opinion, you didn't immediately answer, I don't know, mass murder. Or baby eating.
[ At the very least, a philosophy that seems to involve not thinking much about the past seems to also include moving on from any rough conversation waters incredibly easily]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[She crosses her arms.]
So I guess the answer's yes! Did you have anything in mind?
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[You say, now.]
Sure, I can think of a few things. What do you like? Or I can simply surprise you.
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[Tapping her chin in thought.]
Surprise me, surprise me! It's less boring that way, right?
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[Instead of the planetarium. Something actually that feels like being outside.]
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...It sounds nice.
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[Going over to the podium then, putting his hand on it.
Out unfolds . . . an open field. It's dark out, obviously, considering the idea of having to look for stars, but not very dark out yet, like it's just turned from dusk to truly inky blackness. The grass here is high all around them, tamped down in a fairly large circle where a little camp is set up. Sleeping bags on the ground, packs leaned against a cart - painted in a bright pattern that now wearing off, and a couple of horses graze quietly nearby.
A campfire is dying down in the middle of the area, sending a bit of smoke into the sky. There's no one else around close by, but off in the distance, there's two people sitting fairly close together. It's hard to tell exactly what they look like from here, but they seem relaxed.
And then, of course, the stars. It's a brilliantly clear sky, stars scattered across brightly - easy to see against the navy backdrop. They blot out behind the shape of mountains in the distance.]
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She takes a look at the entire scene they find themselves in, from the field to the dwindling fire - but it's the sky that takes her attention after a few seconds. She takes a seat carefully, setting her hand on the grass as she looks up.]
Is this the place you live?
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Here and there. Didn't really live anywhere in particular. This was just a stop on the road.
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Right, right... The traveling. Mm, is that what you've always been doing?
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[He kicks his feet out, digging the heels of his boots into the dirt.]
Real stars are a bit different, right? It's . . . the atmosphere. The smells. The sounds. How it feels.
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[Given the age listed on his profile, at least. It's gently teasing, but she nods.]
We had weather and things like that, even though we were always inside, but...
[It was all created by magic, none of it real. Even though this isn't real either, she can tell the difference. She shifts so she's lying on her back.]
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[Teasing right back.]
There's a difference between an illusion and the real. I understand. Well, I do hope you get to see the very real thing one day.
[Going to match her, kicking his legs up, one foot over a knee, arms behind his head. Tail lightly swishing against the ground.]
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Oh, there's a whole story there? What would I need to do to earn it, then?
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[Thinking, foot waggling a bit while he considers.]
The one about how I was raised as a foundling by halflings. Or about how I'm a dragon, stuck in this human-like form? My new favorite is I was kidnapped and raised by a cult, my blood used in their dark rituals until, one day, someone accidentally left the door open and I ran free.
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Why do I get the feeling all of your favorite stories about yourself aren't true? You should take more pride in the real one! In the end, it's all you have, right?
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it drops when she says that second part. In the end, it's all you have, right?]
I-- hope I have more than that. In the end. [ . . . ] They're all just different stories. The only thing that truly matters is right now. Right here.
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You don't think what came before this or what's going to come after is important?
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Maybe - maybe for some people? I can't make decisions for everyone. You'll have to make your own choice on that. Sometimes people need a path, or are looking for a path. But I don't think my past is particularly important.
. . . How do you see me now? Is there some truth you could learn that would change how you see me, as I am in this moment?
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The second question's easier. Probably not, but... Well, you don't have to say yes or no to this, but is there something you're worried about people finding out? Or are you just worried about how people see you? You shouldn't be, for either. It's a waste of time.
[As for the first question he asked, with a sigh:]
You're weird.
[Not an insult, just. Statement of fact.]
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Thank gods! I thought I was losing my touch. Yes, I'm very weird. Professionally weird even.
[This is very much a compliment to him, apparently]
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Rest assured, you're still very strange! Though I'm not so sure what's so exciting about that...
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You're strange too. When a weirdo asked you if there was anything that would change your opinion, you didn't immediately answer, I don't know, mass murder. Or baby eating.
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Oh, what a shame. I guess now I'll be hearing about all the babies you've eaten?
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[ At the very least, a philosophy that seems to involve not thinking much about the past seems to also include moving on from any rough conversation waters incredibly easily]
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I've changed my mind! Keep it to yourself.
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