first ♢ voice

[versusnurture]

[Abigail's voice quavers, as though she's uncertain of the connection, like someone making their first long-distance call. She starts out firm and then peters out into uncertainty, the tail end of her first sentence almost a question.]

My name is Abigail . . . Hobbs.

I'm not sure how I got here, but I'm here now. [A pause; who to ask for?] I'm looking for Dr. Alana Bloom. She's tall with dark hair. She was supposed to check in with me this morning, but instead I'm here.

Are there - [And here she inserts a little more tremor than necessary into her voice, because she doesn't know what else to do right now - ] Are there letters home? That kind of thing? How does this work? Because I need to talk to my dad.

Comments

Re: spam

[payshisdebts]

The better question is do the wisdom that a warden provides match with the inmate's need? My wisdom may not be what you need. But another might have it.

[ The elevator dings; he gsetures for her to come with him. ]

spam

[versusnurture]

[She follows obediently, only not quite obediently. She thinks he can probably see it now, or the edges of it. He pays very close attention. So she tightens her step and looks up at him with piercing curiosity, to make herself look younger.]

What are you wisest about, then?

spam

[payshisdebts]

That is an excellent question, isn't it?

[ He leads her onward, away from the elevator, across deck, to the domed CES; this he opens with his signet ring, a lion's head in gold. A meadow, probably somewhere in the Tyrell lands, he thinks, dotted with wildflowers. ]


[ But he closes the door once she sees it, and then taps his ring to the lock. ]

Now you open the door. The lands it shows you will be yours. From your world.

spam

[versusnurture]

[It's pretty - almost pretty enough to offset her annoyance at having her excellent question dodged. The opportunity to see her own home, or at least the land around it, is both tempting and terrifying. For the most part, she doesn't want to go home.]

[But she opens the door anyway, to a field, wind-swept and weathered. There are no flowers, but there are the beginnings of them. It'd be late March, early April maybe.]

[She steps inside without another word.]

spam

[payshisdebts]

[ He follows after her, steps careful. He does not know if this place is dangerous. He doubted so, but it never hurts to be cautious. ]

A lovely country. Where are we? Do you know?