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Madison Scott-Clary
2024-01-24 09:57:59 -08:00
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@ -32,7 +32,7 @@ Ioan mulled over the word 'target', searching for a better one. Ey couldn't thin
"Names are good. Something other than Qoheleth?"
*"Other than that, yes, but almost certainly connected, probably the same person. I think they're the same, at least. Not much more than the name, though. No location, no sightings in ages. Some aging --- or agéd --- resources. A name and some history."*
*"Other than that, yes, but almost certainly connected, probably the same person. I think they are the same, at least. Not much more than the name, though. No location, no sightings in ages. Some aging --- or agéd --- resources. A name and some history."*
Ioan gave an impatient gesture with eir hand. "Well, what's the hold-up?"
@ -80,7 +80,7 @@ Dear tilted its head, ears perked.
Ioan rifled through eir mental notes on the project. "Signifier...from the first encrypted note? Signifier is the password something something?"
Dear nodded. *"Hardly anyone uses it anymore, but signifier used to be what we called the names of long-lived branches. It's still used here and there among older clades."*
Dear nodded. *"Hardly anyone uses it anymore, but signifier used to be what we called the names of long-lived branches. It is still used here and there among older clades."*
"Right, yeah. Ioan Bălan is my name, Ioan\#c1494bf is my signifier."
@ -124,7 +124,7 @@ Ioan scuffed eir foot against the grass. The temperature was dropping out on the
"Both."
*"I think that he would probably get a kick out of it. I know that am. Several of the others are, and the ones who are not just do not care that much or are perhaps more angry than curious."* Dear turned back around. Its arms were held tight against it's front, guarding. Whether from cold or emotion, Ioan couldn't tell. *"As for what I feel, I feel that it is his game. He is the one running it. But even if it is a game, it is not play. There is no real fun in it, just...snark. Anger. Pride, maybe. It is a game he has worked at perfecting, and he wants us to see that."*
*"I think that he would probably get a kick out of it. I know that am. Several of the others are, and the ones who are not just do not care that much or are perhaps more angry than curious."* Dear turned back around. Its arms were held tight against its front, guarding. Whether from cold or emotion, Ioan couldn't tell. *"As for what I feel, I feel that it is his game. He is the one running it. But even if it is a game, it is not play. There is no real fun in it, just...snark. Anger. Pride, maybe. It is a game he has worked at perfecting, and he wants us to see that."*
Ioan marveled at the change in Dear, though with this raise in stakes, ey felt some of the same.