[Ah, yes. A singer is most likely not exactly Royce's preferred company. She really is, in this case, something of an innocent passerby dropped in a world where she has... That is. Without the Transistor, there is nothing else remarkable about her except her voice.
Rather, the voice she once had.
Perhaps she should have helped him up, but that seems like a bit of a stretch at this moment. He deserves to be pushed right back down into the dirt. Red stretches her arms above her head, still running over what she's learnt thus far, which is likely not much more than he has. No way to know without him sharing that information and he'd have to do so willingly. She can't imagine she'll be able to force anything out of him.
It seems that he sees things much the same way. He could easily go it alone, but maybe it's the familiarity that binds them together in cooperative apprehension. Raising her eyebrows at him, she fights the temptation to roll her eyes.
Not sure mathematics has ever been my forte.
But beggars can't be choosers. It's her or nothing, and maybe when one breaks down the equation like that, Red might be just a subtle improvement over the alternative. Rolling her shoulders, she gives him a nod. Yes, fine. She can 'make do,' as he's put it. Her attention turns off of him, taking a moment to shake some of the dirt out of her hair, wondering where they should begin. The tree they've come out under is massive and feels like it could go on forever, making it difficult to to determine which direction might be the best one. All they have to go on are the shards each has been assigned and... well. Sprawling roots in a multitude of directions.
Maybe they should just pick one. Seems easy enough. So she points at one that is no more or less special than any of the others. One can assume she's chosen it entirely at random, and ushered him along with her other.
no subject
Rather, the voice she once had.
Perhaps she should have helped him up, but that seems like a bit of a stretch at this moment. He deserves to be pushed right back down into the dirt. Red stretches her arms above her head, still running over what she's learnt thus far, which is likely not much more than he has. No way to know without him sharing that information and he'd have to do so willingly. She can't imagine she'll be able to force anything out of him.
It seems that he sees things much the same way. He could easily go it alone, but maybe it's the familiarity that binds them together in cooperative apprehension. Raising her eyebrows at him, she fights the temptation to roll her eyes.
Not sure mathematics has ever been my forte.
But beggars can't be choosers. It's her or nothing, and maybe when one breaks down the equation like that, Red might be just a subtle improvement over the alternative. Rolling her shoulders, she gives him a nod. Yes, fine. She can 'make do,' as he's put it. Her attention turns off of him, taking a moment to shake some of the dirt out of her hair, wondering where they should begin. The tree they've come out under is massive and feels like it could go on forever, making it difficult to to determine which direction might be the best one. All they have to go on are the shards each has been assigned and... well. Sprawling roots in a multitude of directions.
Maybe they should just pick one. Seems easy enough. So she points at one that is no more or less special than any of the others. One can assume she's chosen it entirely at random, and ushered him along with her other.
Let's go this way.]