[ She'd explained it to Jaskier, sort of, that somewhere along the line, the people of her world decided that making knowledge freely available was better than hoarding it for the amusement of the most wealthy. That sharing valuable resources -- ancient fossils, priceless art, endangered animals in zoos -- also served to protect them from destruction. She imagines it still must be very difficult to comprehend, the idea that even poor country girls can travel for an hour and see all these things for themselves. It's only in the past two centuries that it's been an option at all. For as much as she hated her life, she's aware that it was privileged as shit. But privileged problems are still problems when everyone you know is privileged too.
Listening, she considers the idea of worlds colliding. In a way, it does remind her something, if not exactly the same. She beams at the dragon, takes it gently from his hand and it animates as she holds it, stretching its wings and blowing out a tiny plume of flame. ]
It's exactly what our dragons look like. Exactly the same. [ She wonders how they can have the same dragons when his is real and hers never existed at all.
Without looking at it, she shrinks the dinosaur to the same size, picks it up and then lets that one come alive too, holding them side-by-side to roar at each other and whip their tails. She places them both on of the many etageres around the room, all filled with random sparkly little knick-knacks, then furrows her brow as something occurs to her. There should be differences between the dragon he made and the illustrations she's seen, right? And so many of the animals are shared between their worlds, something that she's almost positive wouldn't happen through two separate courses of evolution. ] You said worlds collided, and that's where your Continent came from? That... I know I heard of somethin' like that before, back home.
[ She holds up a finger and disappears into another room, comes back after a moment with a globe. It's clearly a decorative piece, something to sit on a shelf or desk, but it still bears all of the continents she knows, as they are. ] See, this is my world. There's seven continents now, but it didn't always look like this. All the different pieces of land, they moved over time, a lot of times. They'd smash into each other and make different continents, then break up again, over and over, until it looked like it does now. It all took billions and billions of years, since before there was anythin' really alive on the Earth. And every time they moved around, it'd make new species, let 'em evolve.
[ She traces a route from Europe to North America with her finger, trying to remember the fragments of prehistory she's absorbed across her life. It's not much, no more than basic high school science and random pop culture tidbits, but it's enough. The kind of random factoid that serves at trivia nights or watching Jeopardy. ]
If the Conjunction wasn't actually worlds collidin', but big pieces of land collidin' instead... they told us that the Singularity links all worlds, right? What if the Singularity is what makes worlds change? Makes things move and evolve.
no subject
Listening, she considers the idea of worlds colliding. In a way, it does remind her something, if not exactly the same. She beams at the dragon, takes it gently from his hand and it animates as she holds it, stretching its wings and blowing out a tiny plume of flame. ]
It's exactly what our dragons look like. Exactly the same. [ She wonders how they can have the same dragons when his is real and hers never existed at all.
Without looking at it, she shrinks the dinosaur to the same size, picks it up and then lets that one come alive too, holding them side-by-side to roar at each other and whip their tails. She places them both on of the many etageres around the room, all filled with random sparkly little knick-knacks, then furrows her brow as something occurs to her. There should be differences between the dragon he made and the illustrations she's seen, right? And so many of the animals are shared between their worlds, something that she's almost positive wouldn't happen through two separate courses of evolution. ] You said worlds collided, and that's where your Continent came from? That... I know I heard of somethin' like that before, back home.
[ She holds up a finger and disappears into another room, comes back after a moment with a globe. It's clearly a decorative piece, something to sit on a shelf or desk, but it still bears all of the continents she knows, as they are. ] See, this is my world. There's seven continents now, but it didn't always look like this. All the different pieces of land, they moved over time, a lot of times. They'd smash into each other and make different continents, then break up again, over and over, until it looked like it does now. It all took billions and billions of years, since before there was anythin' really alive on the Earth. And every time they moved around, it'd make new species, let 'em evolve.
[ She traces a route from Europe to North America with her finger, trying to remember the fragments of prehistory she's absorbed across her life. It's not much, no more than basic high school science and random pop culture tidbits, but it's enough. The kind of random factoid that serves at trivia nights or watching Jeopardy. ]
If the Conjunction wasn't actually worlds collidin', but big pieces of land collidin' instead... they told us that the Singularity links all worlds, right? What if the Singularity is what makes worlds change? Makes things move and evolve.