[ Andy makes a quiet noise that's somehow half sympathy and half amusement. She was lucky to walk away from that night at the tower largely unscathed — if it had been her stuck in that damn hospital, she might have flung herself right out the window just to escape the monotony. In her old life, she wouldn't even have worried about that kind of thing. The immortal curse had forced her to survive all kinds of awful wounds — decapitation, severed limbs, broken bones, ruptured viscera. The role of "patient" is foreign to her, and she doesn't envy Cloud's long recovery.
Funny, how the blood rain seems like a lifetime ago now. ]
No complaints. [ With a twinge of wryness: ] Honestly, things are a little too fucking good. Makes me antsy.
[ Call it an old soldier's gut instinct. But there's no point in preemptively spoiling the evening with too much of that talk. Instead, after a moment: ]
no subject
Funny, how the blood rain seems like a lifetime ago now. ]
No complaints. [ With a twinge of wryness: ] Honestly, things are a little too fucking good. Makes me antsy.
[ Call it an old soldier's gut instinct. But there's no point in preemptively spoiling the evening with too much of that talk. Instead, after a moment: ]
Can't you see the sky where you're from?