HarperMadi
🎨 Media Gallery
"Life isn't fair, Sacre. The worlds we live on are cruel, unkind places. It's our duty to make them safe and fair, for our children." She didn't move, noting that Sacre was now on top of the blades. And that the duffels were now relatively unguarded. She would have to prompt her to move further away from the bags if she wanted to have any chance at trapping and taking that blade away. So she gently started moving away from the bags, taking the longer route around the chair where she could double back and move faster if she needed to.
"You know I was denied the right to train as a Smith? As an astrocartographer? Skydasir like me are too impulsive, they said. Too driven by emotion and chaotic. Your gene mother, she wanted to be an astrologer-priestess. I'm a freighter captain, not a warrior. And if you're anything like your gene mother, you have a pure heart. Why else would you apologize to me before trying to kill me? Why do you have to do this?"
The question was accentuated by Aliset projecting images, flashes of falsehoods and planned routes of attack, the barrage of images hopefully filled in by Sacre's mind with the sickly stink of blue blood and the oily feeling of Ali's corpse for every possible attack to be met with a strike from that edge. She knew Separa were resistant to psychic attacks, but she also knew her Sacre was unusually smart, and she could feel her Lady's emotions some times. Especially when Sacre was trying to empathize. "I know it hurts. I'm not going to beg. Shurista abandoned me as a child. Nagashun abandoned your gene mother. And now... Now your makers would abandon you? To kill one unimportant Senti prisoner or die trying? Where's the sense? What does this accomplish? Why give you a spear and not a gun to kill me? Are we nothing more than a sick game? Are you the woman of honor I know is in your heart or are you just a show?"
"You know I was denied the right to train as a Smith? As an astrocartographer? Skydasir like me are too impulsive, they said. Too driven by emotion and chaotic. Your gene mother, she wanted to be an astrologer-priestess. I'm a freighter captain, not a warrior. And if you're anything like your gene mother, you have a pure heart. Why else would you apologize to me before trying to kill me? Why do you have to do this?"
The question was accentuated by Aliset projecting images, flashes of falsehoods and planned routes of attack, the barrage of images hopefully filled in by Sacre's mind with the sickly stink of blue blood and the oily feeling of Ali's corpse for every possible attack to be met with a strike from that edge. She knew Separa were resistant to psychic attacks, but she also knew her Sacre was unusually smart, and she could feel her Lady's emotions some times. Especially when Sacre was trying to empathize. "I know it hurts. I'm not going to beg. Shurista abandoned me as a child. Nagashun abandoned your gene mother. And now... Now your makers would abandon you? To kill one unimportant Senti prisoner or die trying? Where's the sense? What does this accomplish? Why give you a spear and not a gun to kill me? Are we nothing more than a sick game? Are you the woman of honor I know is in your heart or are you just a show?"