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08-04-2014, 02:56 PM
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He is indifferent to your history; that much is clear. His words are properly sympathetic, but his tone is unfeeling, lending him a rather derisive air. Needless to say, you don’t appreciate it. But it seems as if Rostislav is not done with you. Like crocodiles sensing blood in the water, his next questions slither through the mud to snap at you where you stand. “A pretty thing like you has certainly come out on top, don’t you think? Where are you from? Certainly not this island, as we’ve both just discovered it,” he adds slyly. Well, that’s interesting, you think, forgetting your moodiness in your sudden caution. For someone supposedly so disinterested in your past, you hadn’t expected any follow-up questions from the brute. Is he trying to get information out of you? While you’re not sure why he wants to know, the fact that he’s asking makes you suspicious. “Oh, neither here nor there,” you reply politely, yet dismissively, in between bites of dandelion. “I’m sure that if I were to list the places I’ve seen, it would be quite boring,” you continue. “Nowhere you’re from, I trust—your accent is one that I would remember,” you remark, commenting on his rather…unique style of address. “You’re right though, I’ve never seen a floating island before. Vanishing seas, yes; subterranean mountain ranges, certainly! But a rock in the sky?” You laugh drily, as if the whole thing is ridiculously impossible. “Ah,” you sigh as your chuckling subsides, “You must forgive me though, monsieur, for I feel as if I am dominating the conversation. I never gave you a chance to answer my earlier question—do tell me about yourself. We can even make it a game, if you like that sort of thing. Question for a question, what do you say?” @[Rostislav] |
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