@knifedindunwall
It takes a full twenty minutes of pacing outside the front door of the Palilicium for the Whaler to work up their nerve, and even then, they can’t bring themselves to actually go inside.
They’re keenly aware that it’s been a full month since they’ve spoken to Daud. It’s not like they’ve been avoiding him, exactly—but between the two weeks it took them to figure out the text message function on their holophone and the vague nightmares that plague them whenever they’re forced to sleep in the Flats, it’s been... difficult to contact him. Even once they got the hang of the “touch screen”, something about the nightmares made them hesitate over his name on the list.
But the Whaler is sick of the nauseating dread that washes over them when they see Daud’s name. They’re sick of the bitter anxiety that comes with hearing his name. This isn’t their Daud. This is a different Daud. So they’re going to see him again, and remind themselves that this isn’t the man that left the Whalers to die.
And they want their powers back.
The Whaler exhales slowly, watching their breath fog in the cold air, and pulls out their holophone. They itch with frustration; every mode of transportation they’ve tried is just not the same as a transversal. Speed isn’t the issue—they’d just save up the “moon points” for a motor carriage if it were. What they miss is the safety. Every morning they wake up from a nightmare, they try to transverse away. Every time it doesn’t work. They’re sick of the trapped feeling as much as they’re sick of their Daud-related anxiety.
Two birds, one stone. Trembling only a little—just from the cold, of course—they punch Daud’s name into their holophone and send a quick series of texts:
[msg] Sir
[msg] Forgiive my silence, sir.
[msg] I’d like to speak wth you again, if possible.
[msg] Pleasw meet me on the roof of the apartment building next to the “Seven Eleven” in two hours. I’ll be waitin gthere.
