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networkinthenight2019-07-22 01:35 am
hext) wrote in networkinthenight2019-07-22 01:35 am
Entry tags:
@witch — voice
My name is Wanda Maximoff. I have met several of you.
I have seen some of you die. Some of you have seen me die, as well.
We are, I think, intimate — if not consensually.
[ she attaches her dimly lit picture, taken near the church. a slow, measured breath, then she continues in her low, but confident voice, angled just so by her Eastern European accent: ]
We are here to survive, and we all know there is strength in numbers.
Trust is not given freely, it is earned, yes — but neither should we make sweeping generalizations about each other's competencies, young or old, when we each come from such unique... and uniquely horrifying... worlds.
[ the softest tapping sound accumulates in the background; her fingers, rarely ever idle, are dancing along the edges of her tablet as she runs through the paces of her message. ]
Winters spoke strongly of resets. I think about it each night. What drives them, if there is any reason or logic behind them. If they are not merely whims of the lighthouse keeper, then let it not be this:
Let it not be us, dividing into factions and turning on each other out of spite and fear, vengeance and guilt, carried past our deaths into this purgatory. Young, or old, or without classification. [ here's lookin' at you, five. ] We will only die again faster this way, festering in mistrust.
[ in this moment, she wishes perhaps more ardently than ever before that steve were here — he knows the power of a call to arms, how to be the tree that does not move, the liberating thrill of speech — despite how glad she is that he is not a victim with her. her captain, her beating heart, her family. ]
Each project will always have its own team.
But we shall try to be one town, yes?
I think we can.
I have seen some of you die. Some of you have seen me die, as well.
We are, I think, intimate — if not consensually.
[ she attaches her dimly lit picture, taken near the church. a slow, measured breath, then she continues in her low, but confident voice, angled just so by her Eastern European accent: ]
We are here to survive, and we all know there is strength in numbers.
Trust is not given freely, it is earned, yes — but neither should we make sweeping generalizations about each other's competencies, young or old, when we each come from such unique... and uniquely horrifying... worlds.
[ the softest tapping sound accumulates in the background; her fingers, rarely ever idle, are dancing along the edges of her tablet as she runs through the paces of her message. ]
Winters spoke strongly of resets. I think about it each night. What drives them, if there is any reason or logic behind them. If they are not merely whims of the lighthouse keeper, then let it not be this:
Let it not be us, dividing into factions and turning on each other out of spite and fear, vengeance and guilt, carried past our deaths into this purgatory. Young, or old, or without classification. [ here's lookin' at you, five. ] We will only die again faster this way, festering in mistrust.
[ in this moment, she wishes perhaps more ardently than ever before that steve were here — he knows the power of a call to arms, how to be the tree that does not move, the liberating thrill of speech — despite how glad she is that he is not a victim with her. her captain, her beating heart, her family. ]
Each project will always have its own team.
But we shall try to be one town, yes?
I think we can.
Voice
Are people turning on each other already? I was under the impression that many were working on exploration. Perhaps I have missed something.
no subject
[ she sighs. ]
I watched people who should be working together, mentoring and learning, draw away from each other with a strong sense of mistrust over one single offer of exploration. I only hope it won't be with finality.
no subject
Unfortunate to have potential allies turn to enemies over something so trivial.
We have only been here a short time, tensions are still running high. In time it may smooth itself out.
[He hopes]
no subject
no subject
And I've fought alongside those of all skillsets. And ages.
crawls back to you my apologies, pounds my chronic pain into submission
That is wonderful, Grandmaster! You have my respects. I would like to organize an area not far from the bonfire, thus well lit but far enough from damaging town buildings, where those who are interested my train and trade skills together. Teach, and learn. Perhaps within the next month. [ she pauses, hopeful. ] ...Would you like to help build some of the targets for practice?
take your time bby
A wise choice. We have no way of knowing what dangers we may face in this place and those who can fight will need to keep up their skills. Those who have never learned can be taught. At least to defend themselves at first, and perhaps more as time passes.
[Which he doesn't want to think about - planning for the future in terms of months rather than days makes this all feel a lot more permanent. Acknowledging the reality of the situation doesn't make it any easier to accept.]
Certainly. For weaponry and hand to hand?