abraxaslogs | · CLOSED ·

[When your life is nearly defined by one single location, one prison, the mental vibes exist accordingly. But they can have that conversation some other time, maybe.

For now, a single pale brow arches.]

Official business, then?

[And he's given no more explanation than that, which leaves him hanging in a way that makes him wonder, makes him want to pry. But at the same time, how is that supposed to compel him? A trip to another settlement, to accompany someone who'll participate in a conversation he will likely have no part in, to take in a view that will undoubtedly be the same?

Wanda has the advantage of sharing few similarities with him, at least. He can't deny that, and it affords her some leeway he wouldn't give others. And then there is the fact that he can abandon his current task--watering these mundane plants with their mundane little flowers struggling to bear fruit--and at least see something new. He has wanted to expand his knowledge on this world, after all. He supposes it won't always be the most thrilling.]

All right. You can share the details on the way over, maybe?

[Still nosy.]

['official business', or whatever this would entail. wanda smiles as she feels his thoughts gearing towards accepting her offer, molded forth then into reality as he doesn't reach for the watering can again. he voices, then, his acquiescing.

wanda's lips are short of forming a smile.]

I didn't plan on having a trip where conversation was not allowed.

[mental or otherwise.]

I'll find you a horse, and I can give you ten minutes to pack up whatever you need. [she shrugs, turning back already.] Don't worry about supplies. We won't be without.

[what with magic and all that.]

[It must be nice to have reality-bending magic. If only.]

I don't have much. I won't even be that long.

[And that's not a lie; not much in the way of material possessions for Henry Creel, who has not been present in Solvunn long enough to accrue anything he's particularly attached to. Once he's back inside the homestead he's staying with, it's only a handful of minutes before he's back out and ready to hit the trail.

On a horse.

A new and very... worrisome experience, if one were to be completely honest. They're certainly not going fast enough to count as harrowing, especially to Henry who would still call this a sedate activity, but it's a lot of jostling. A lot of keeping balance. It's clear he's utterly new at this, and that he grows increasingly stiff in the shoulders and hips as they near their location.

At some point, he won't even hide his frown, though the soft and prying timbre of his voice hasn't completely lost its kindliness.]

I hope whatever you're planning on discussing, it's worth all this effort.

[if nothing else, they could always take a break from the horses and start walking for a bit. the trip to the secondary settlement is long, but it needn't be tedious. with enough speed, they'll make it there in a couple of days.

wanda's familiar with this horse, at least, having used him on a few short and long expeditions before, so there is a sense of comfort between them. henry will have to reach that point with his own.]

I was told of plenty of rumors regarding Josselyn while on the ship. [that is her main point of concern.] It's clear that the Council is unhappy with the resources they've shared with the Free Cities, and it's not hard to tell that Josselyn might have had something to do with it.

[—the way she had left that meeting early on, an unusual thing compared to how things had been before.]

Besides, I've not had the chance to visit the Secondary Settlement properly. It's never a bad thing to see how things are away from our home base.

[a glance at him, offering a small smile.]

[He gives her a sidelong glance as they make their way down a winding path, sloping downwards along a hill. Henry holds onto tightly to the horn of his saddle, going over her words in his mind.]

So you're trying to set the record straight? [Regarding Josselyn, he means.] Why does it matter, either way?

[Polticking, hushed voices and rumors swirling about the state of the world, on the edge of fracturing into war as it might be. Henry has a hard time wanting to know why anyone would try to untangle a mess that is utterly unsalvagable in a world that does not belong to them. Sincerely, anyway.

At the last bit, he nearly shrugs. Nearly.]

As for sightseeing, I'll admit that's the main reason why I came along. I want to know exactly the kind of world we're being forced to live in, for now.

Maybe not at all.

['why it matters', she means. there's always the chance that they are just pulling at strings that will bear no fruit in terms of useful information. regardless—]

I'd rather know what is happening than to remain ignorant. I don't like surprises.

[as in, should anything sudden happen, wanda wants to know, for the most part, what exactly she's dealing with.]

And perhaps we can avoid something terrible from happening.

[something like the bombing of libertas.]

I've been meaning to ask. [abruptly, her words cutting through. he might not appreciate her bringing this up, but she couldn't help having noticed.] There was a point in your life when you didn't see much of the world, wasn't there?

[instances of surface memories caught with her telepathy, unbound, not quite looking for anything to stick to.]

[Henry, too, doesn't like surprises. Or rather, he should say that he likes secrets and unravelling them until there's nothing but bare thread left.

He supposes, despite the politicking, if he looks at it in this way, he can find some worth in her endeavor.

The last bit, though, cutting through the rest of the conversation, is enough to make him look at her a bit more keenly, eyes seeking.]

Are you poking around in my head?

[No, he knows she isn't. He would feel it. But surface memories must be there, still tangible; she's very perceptive, isn't she?]

Remember when I said I was taken in by the government?

[White walls, small rooms, harsh lights, underground, a room painted with rainbows-]

—we've both fervently agreed that we are not fans of scientists.

[the ones she's met in abraxas, for the most part, are devoid of such harsh judgement. it is one that she still holds fast to as a general rule, though.

as it were, of course she remembers him mentioning that. it's hard to ignore things between them that are similar.

it's clear what he implies.]

How long did they keep you imprisoned for?

[On that, he can agree. Wholeheartedly.

He does not eve pause to give this answer. Let him hammer home just how imprisoned he was; he has no reason to really hide it.]

Twenty years.

It's a miracle you're so likable.

[she says to him easily, turning to glance at him with a bit of a smile before turning her face neutral again, facing forward. though there is a bias, certainly, what with wanda finding nuance in their shared ability to reading minds.

twenty years is a long time, either way.]

The more you're recognized here, the easier it'll be for you to move around. [just like with others, wanda would hate that anyone felt they were stuck in a cage. someone like him, who was, should not have to feel that way.] We'll meet Rowan, but I imagine he won't want to speak with you present. I'll put in a good word regardless.

[So likeable? Somehow, he cannot tell the degree of sincerity versus joking that Wanda's imbued into that statement, but it actually makes his lips twist into a more... amused smile.

Twenty years is a long time, yes. Long enough to let so much anger brew, so much resentment. Likeable is not how Papa would have described him in the lab; likeable is not what he truly goes for, outside of outward appearances. For someone so like him to call him that, he wonders how he should take it.

He supposes he can think more on that later.]

I'm not established enough to talk to the bigwigs? [He says, lightly and jokingly, but it's true, too, isn't it?]

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