Post by Deleted on Jan 17, 2015 22:23:14 GMT -5
((March 12st. Some time after Round and Round We Go - nighttime I suppose. Closed to Turbo and Nill for heavy bitching.))
Her blessings, Nill supposed, she could count - but, although it might have been piety, she had a mind to do something to better her conditions somehow. Nill felt like a ghost not put to rest. Hell, she looked the part. Although she'd been given shelter and protection, it just wasn't the same. Life used to be so simple. She was at the top: a proud, supporting, loyal racer in the most popular game in the arcade! But now, what was she? A foot solider surrounded by blithering, bickering blockheads! Unacceptable! Her "leader" might have promised her the fame she wanted, but her faith in him was shaky at best.
Nill, when she requested a meeting with the only familiar person she had, thought she had a mind to chew his head off. Now, she began to realize this wasn't what she needed. One thought continued to return to her; she wanted to go home. And one thought always followed; there was no home. Without her game, what was her purpose? An empty existence as an expendable pawn in this pointless war? The woman could only see the worst in this situation.
Someone had to be there for her to confide in. With few options, that someone had to be the very man responsible for her death. There was still a kinship she felt with Turbo and that was infinitely more than she could say for anyone else around. Nill decided to take to a bedroom where it was quiet and lonesome. This had to be between only her and her rival.
Her mind was going full-tilt, but she was completely quiet. Nill was standing, her arms folded tightly. An intense stare was directed at her feet. What should she say now?
Her blessings, Nill supposed, she could count - but, although it might have been piety, she had a mind to do something to better her conditions somehow. Nill felt like a ghost not put to rest. Hell, she looked the part. Although she'd been given shelter and protection, it just wasn't the same. Life used to be so simple. She was at the top: a proud, supporting, loyal racer in the most popular game in the arcade! But now, what was she? A foot solider surrounded by blithering, bickering blockheads! Unacceptable! Her "leader" might have promised her the fame she wanted, but her faith in him was shaky at best.
Nill, when she requested a meeting with the only familiar person she had, thought she had a mind to chew his head off. Now, she began to realize this wasn't what she needed. One thought continued to return to her; she wanted to go home. And one thought always followed; there was no home. Without her game, what was her purpose? An empty existence as an expendable pawn in this pointless war? The woman could only see the worst in this situation.
Someone had to be there for her to confide in. With few options, that someone had to be the very man responsible for her death. There was still a kinship she felt with Turbo and that was infinitely more than she could say for anyone else around. Nill decided to take to a bedroom where it was quiet and lonesome. This had to be between only her and her rival.
Her mind was going full-tilt, but she was completely quiet. Nill was standing, her arms folded tightly. An intense stare was directed at her feet. What should she say now?