[A little frown between her brows come at the idea that ghouls existed in his California. Was she imagining it all wrong? He obviously didn't go through the Great War, so why would they have had enough radiation in the air to turn people into ghouls? But she doesn't want to interrupt his train of thought, as eager as she is to listen, and obviously, it's his world, he knows what it's like.
She just wants to have a clearer picture. Of the world that might've existed generations upon generations ago. The sort of place that Reclamation Day would lead to again, if everything went right. (Nothing had gone right since Dad disappeared.)
Her smile is tinged with sadness between sips of her beer. It's really growing on her now, leaving a nice, heady warmth that starts in her stomach and is starting to rise into her head. She settles into a feeling like she could sit here and listen to him talk about his world forever, with the bob of his Adam's apple and the movements of his hands, and the deep timbre of his voice.]
I really miss movies. [She doesn't interject, waiting until tehre's a pause for her to agree.] I mean, new ones. We've only had the same ones since, you know... [No one was around to make new ones.
Social media is, um, something. She doesn't know. Capitalism a scam, though? It's what America was founded on as an economic system. Surely it couldn't be that bad?
Politics, well. The only ones she knew were the ones headed over by the Overseer. The series of voting for a new one when the time came. Democracy at its finest.]
That may be true... [She curls her hands around the beer glass, slowly spinning it, savouring the feel of the condensation rolling down the sides.] I think it says something that people still survive, despite that. Despite the worst. People still want to find reasons to stay alive. Things to live for. [She smiles, putting a hand gently on his shoulder.] My Dad used to say... if there's ever a crisis, to first look for the helpers. And then, when you gather yourself, to become a helper yourself. It's always brought me strength when things are their worst, knowing that, in most of us, that's our first instinct. [Her laughs is quiet, a little drunk as she keeps downing the beer.] I guess that's a little harder to swallow when the world's gone to hell, though.
no subject
She just wants to have a clearer picture. Of the world that might've existed generations upon generations ago. The sort of place that Reclamation Day would lead to again, if everything went right. (Nothing had gone right since Dad disappeared.)
Her smile is tinged with sadness between sips of her beer. It's really growing on her now, leaving a nice, heady warmth that starts in her stomach and is starting to rise into her head. She settles into a feeling like she could sit here and listen to him talk about his world forever, with the bob of his Adam's apple and the movements of his hands, and the deep timbre of his voice.]
I really miss movies. [She doesn't interject, waiting until tehre's a pause for her to agree.] I mean, new ones. We've only had the same ones since, you know... [No one was around to make new ones.
Social media is, um, something. She doesn't know. Capitalism a scam, though? It's what America was founded on as an economic system. Surely it couldn't be that bad?
Politics, well. The only ones she knew were the ones headed over by the Overseer. The series of voting for a new one when the time came. Democracy at its finest.]
That may be true... [She curls her hands around the beer glass, slowly spinning it, savouring the feel of the condensation rolling down the sides.] I think it says something that people still survive, despite that. Despite the worst. People still want to find reasons to stay alive. Things to live for. [She smiles, putting a hand gently on his shoulder.] My Dad used to say... if there's ever a crisis, to first look for the helpers. And then, when you gather yourself, to become a helper yourself. It's always brought me strength when things are their worst, knowing that, in most of us, that's our first instinct. [Her laughs is quiet, a little drunk as she keeps downing the beer.] I guess that's a little harder to swallow when the world's gone to hell, though.