(no subject)

[will_be_god]

Who: Cyrus and YOU
What: Talking
Where: Around
When: October 8-9


Cyrus hadn't felt well lately. His forced change of heart was beginning to wear on him, and he found himself confronted more and more with the echoes of the past. The world had to change. It had to. And he had to bring it about.

This world was fresh and new, but already he could sense that it was more and more illogical to attempt to mold it into that ideal.

People had not changed.

Cyrus had not changed.

And as before, he had taken to wandering the grounds with a notebook, furiously writing down everything he thought and muttering to himself nearly constantly. Only this time he wasn't blank or expressionless, seeming more sad than anything else.

And he continued to write. Go talk to him, will you?

Comments

[will_be_god]

As condescending as she was being, she had a point and he knew it. "...I will approach you again, understand. Do you have any questions of your duty?"

He never would have asked that before. It was part of his plan to attract dimwits who wouldn't question him. Such people were disposable and wouldn't have to be included in his plan. But now, with what little population there was to go around, only valuable people could be approached. In the absence of Voile, Rhys, Sable...

He couldn't afford to think about them. He would see them again soon enough.

But for now, he had to make sure everyone he included in his plan knew their duty.

[ladyoftheshootingstars]

"As you are incoherent, I do not," she replied. "But we will discuss this after you have rested," she added, floating him towards the room he had staked out as his own.

[will_be_god]

He hadn't slept in a few days, but that was something familiar to him. He had always been perfectly coherent and rational no matter how tired he had gotten.

But no matter. He did need rest.

"Fine..."

Somehow the door had opened. Had he left it open or was that part of her power?

[ladyoftheshootingstars]

Rosalina stepped inside, levitating Cyrus above his bed. The little gravity bubble popped, and he fell a short distance down to his mattress. She smiled at him. "I'm glad you listen to reason," she told him finally. "We will talk again in the morning. Until then... sleep well."

And she quietly closed the door behind her, leaving him to his thoughts and his supposed rest.

[will_be_god]

His notebook dropped to his side, and he fumbled to remove his jacket. "...there is so much to be done," he muttered, but he kicked off his shoes and settled under the covers regardless.

There was more time in which to accomplish things here. This world had not degenerated nearly as far yet. But it would, he was sure of that.

He slept nearly twice as long as usual, and didn't dream.