"You ever get the impression there are some things we should never, ever really look too much into?" It's been a pleasantly surreal day, he'll take it. It's not every day he gets to sit around in a wrecked sand steamer talking to a part of himself without being completely drunk. "Protein bars are probably up there on the list. Especially since every manufacturer probably has their own 'recipe'."
And unlike those forays into unsobriety, there's no arguing with himself going on! It's great! It's almost enough to truly relax. Almost. That would mean shedding the burrito and not putting so much concentration into looking as human as he can, and he's not quite ready to inflict that on the unsuspecting just yet.
He looks a bit startled when reminded he was going to show off something, straightening up a bit. "Oh, right! Here, take a look back July's way, and tell me what you think." He holds out a pair of ordinary looking binoculars with his right hand - always the right. The left is still thoroughly under wraps. There's nothing at all wrong with the binoculars, they show sand, sand and more sand!
And beyond that, the ruins of July. Or at least, some of the ruins, the blasted walls and broken crumbling architecture of its outskirts are certainly there but the rest is dominated by the absolutely towering shape of a massive ship split in half and lodged bow and stern in the ground. Growing out of its shattered midsection and reaching towards the sky in numberless glittering spires of metal and glass is what can only be called a city.
But not a city as he'd ever come across, in all his years of wandering; that was simply beyond the architecture of No Man's Land as he knows it. He'd only seen it in old pictures of Earth, in its own cities full of skyscrapers and teeming with people. At this time of day the city casts a short shadow on the ground, a sharp-edged black thing that shades the very ruins of the city he was more familiar with and had destroyed (or instigated the destruction of, he wasn't sure. Maybe both), and sand and sun can be seen peeking beneath it where the hull of the split ship didn't quite reach sand in the middle. Something about those distant gleaming edifices suggest it would be, in the dark of night, magnificent to see.
Were they any sharper, maybe a little radio tower can be made out, and a certain residence, but it was quite some distance, so perhaps not.
That city growing out of the wreckage of an ancient ship wasn't there three hours ago. It hasn't made its appearance in about a week now, but there it was.
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And unlike those forays into unsobriety, there's no arguing with himself going on! It's great! It's almost enough to truly relax. Almost. That would mean shedding the burrito and not putting so much concentration into looking as human as he can, and he's not quite ready to inflict that on the unsuspecting just yet.
He looks a bit startled when reminded he was going to show off something, straightening up a bit. "Oh, right! Here, take a look back July's way, and tell me what you think." He holds out a pair of ordinary looking binoculars with his right hand - always the right. The left is still thoroughly under wraps. There's nothing at all wrong with the binoculars, they show sand, sand and more sand!
And beyond that, the ruins of July. Or at least, some of the ruins, the blasted walls and broken crumbling architecture of its outskirts are certainly there but the rest is dominated by the absolutely towering shape of a massive ship split in half and lodged bow and stern in the ground. Growing out of its shattered midsection and reaching towards the sky in numberless glittering spires of metal and glass is what can only be called a city.
But not a city as he'd ever come across, in all his years of wandering; that was simply beyond the architecture of No Man's Land as he knows it. He'd only seen it in old pictures of Earth, in its own cities full of skyscrapers and teeming with people. At this time of day the city casts a short shadow on the ground, a sharp-edged black thing that shades the very ruins of the city he was more familiar with and had destroyed (or instigated the destruction of, he wasn't sure. Maybe both), and sand and sun can be seen peeking beneath it where the hull of the split ship didn't quite reach sand in the middle. Something about those distant gleaming edifices suggest it would be, in the dark of night, magnificent to see.
Were they any sharper, maybe a little radio tower can be made out, and a certain residence, but it was quite some distance, so perhaps not.
That city growing out of the wreckage of an ancient ship wasn't there three hours ago. It hasn't made its appearance in about a week now, but there it was.