We'll see how that comes to pass, in the coming weeks.
[He needs to figure out how to apologize to Takame, more than anything else.
'Like daisies in the snow' is an image that can't help but strike home, though. He's reminded suddenly of February, of an encouraging skeleton that handed him a flower and helped him to think of a society as something that lives and grows rather than something statically built. The same cool peace of that moment seems to wash through him once again.]
...You're right. It just needs time, doesn't it?
[That's why people were so insistent he take time off without giving him anything in particular to do with that time, wasn't it? For the same reason you plant seeds and then leave them alone to sprout. He's been forgetting again to think in terms of things that are alive rather than things that are built; it's a harder shift to make than he realized it would be.
This realization is also derailed by being asked what century it is. His brow furrows in mild perplexity.]
...The year is 2025. [He fills that in on enough forms, anyway.] I thought you were from this world?
Exactly, my friend. Time, and sometimes a little distance heals what words cannot.
[As contrary as that seems. He has no doubt the people of Kaisou will heal, and perhaps even learn more about each other through it. After all, once you've seen each other at your worst, what is left?
The Baron Omatsuri had chose wrong in his victims, in his humble opinion. He could almost understand the monster's grief--what he wouldn't give to see his Lightkeeper brethren again? Alas, the dead are dead, their bells have tolled and life must move on.
It's not until Maxima asks that, quite frankly, normal question that he lets out a lighthearted laugh, snapping out of his trance.]
My apologies. A lightkeeper's work is quite isolated, and the days, months...even years start to blend together. You remember what you had for breakfast yesterday, and then you realize that was actually months ago.
[Okay.]
Though this little slab of metal has a built in clock and a calendar? The world has become so convenient!
[As explanations go...well, it's a little odd, but so many people around here are odd to Maxima's understanding. Some of the ones who seem odd to him are actually perfectly normal to this world. Being an isekai, his calibration for this kind of thing is just too off to draw any actual conclusions except that Flins is a strange man.
And despite his strangeness, Maxima has never sensed any particular threat from him. Sometimes he gets the feeling that Flins could be dangerous, if he chose to, but he's never felt endangered, despite years of survival in a hostile social environment that have left him particularly attuned to that kind of thing. So, he can be strange if he wants to.]
I have heard that long isolation can be disorienting, true. It's a shame that you have to travel so far to visit.
[Flins' enthusiasm about the phone's features gets a little smile out of him. It's just charming.]
And much more than that, as well. May I see it? I can show you the features of those applications, and perhaps some others you may find useful.
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no subject
[He needs to figure out how to apologize to Takame, more than anything else.
'Like daisies in the snow' is an image that can't help but strike home, though. He's reminded suddenly of February, of an encouraging skeleton that handed him a flower and helped him to think of a society as something that lives and grows rather than something statically built. The same cool peace of that moment seems to wash through him once again.]
...You're right. It just needs time, doesn't it?
[That's why people were so insistent he take time off without giving him anything in particular to do with that time, wasn't it? For the same reason you plant seeds and then leave them alone to sprout. He's been forgetting again to think in terms of things that are alive rather than things that are built; it's a harder shift to make than he realized it would be.
This realization is also derailed by being asked what century it is. His brow furrows in mild perplexity.]
...The year is 2025. [He fills that in on enough forms, anyway.] I thought you were from this world?
[Because Maxima isn't, and yet.]
no subject
Exactly, my friend. Time, and sometimes a little distance heals what words cannot.
[As contrary as that seems. He has no doubt the people of Kaisou will heal, and perhaps even learn more about each other through it. After all, once you've seen each other at your worst, what is left?
The Baron Omatsuri had chose wrong in his victims, in his humble opinion. He could almost understand the monster's grief--what he wouldn't give to see his Lightkeeper brethren again? Alas, the dead are dead, their bells have tolled and life must move on.
It's not until Maxima asks that, quite frankly, normal question that he lets out a lighthearted laugh, snapping out of his trance.]
My apologies. A lightkeeper's work is quite isolated, and the days, months...even years start to blend together. You remember what you had for breakfast yesterday, and then you realize that was actually months ago.
[Okay.]
Though this little slab of metal has a built in clock and a calendar? The world has become so convenient!
no subject
And despite his strangeness, Maxima has never sensed any particular threat from him. Sometimes he gets the feeling that Flins could be dangerous, if he chose to, but he's never felt endangered, despite years of survival in a hostile social environment that have left him particularly attuned to that kind of thing. So, he can be strange if he wants to.]
I have heard that long isolation can be disorienting, true. It's a shame that you have to travel so far to visit.
[Flins' enthusiasm about the phone's features gets a little smile out of him. It's just charming.]
And much more than that, as well. May I see it? I can show you the features of those applications, and perhaps some others you may find useful.