Weaver had a habit of showing up in places normal people didn’t. Maybe it was a byproduct of the death wish her brother insists she has (she has no such wish). Maybe it was just a product of living in Halo and used to surviving in the worst of conditions. Really, it was probably because curiosity drove her, recklessness clothed her, and a willingness to die (if needed) armored her. Someone had to do the hard stuff in life, the stupid stuff.
He seems startled by her presence, a trend that seems to keep going here in the Hallowed Grounds. Apparently she didn’t act like a local, which was fine because she wasn’t. She was a Halovian, and not pretending to be otherwise. He doesn’t confirm or deny her suspicion that he’s an ascended. Maybe she should care, but she doesn’t. She also doesn’t yet know all the details of the drama that’s been going on outside her Halovian bubble, so maybe she would care when she learned. Though Weaver isn’t usually the type to blame everyone for the actions of some.
He lets her stay though, admitted he’s never caught the sun. She grins conspiratorially, ”I haven’t either, so we can suck at it together. We don’t really do this in Halo.”. She plops her basket down next to his, a dinky little thing next to his nicer one. It’s sort of hilarious, actually, and it feels like the story of Weaver’s life somehow. Dinky little basket versus the rest of the world.
She comes to join him, settling cross-legged onto the ground. He gives her a name (first and last, fancy) and sticks out her hand. She takes it, giving a firm but polite shake. ”Weaver Hale.” Hey, she could use a last name too, why not?
He seems startled by her presence, a trend that seems to keep going here in the Hallowed Grounds. Apparently she didn’t act like a local, which was fine because she wasn’t. She was a Halovian, and not pretending to be otherwise. He doesn’t confirm or deny her suspicion that he’s an ascended. Maybe she should care, but she doesn’t. She also doesn’t yet know all the details of the drama that’s been going on outside her Halovian bubble, so maybe she would care when she learned. Though Weaver isn’t usually the type to blame everyone for the actions of some.
He lets her stay though, admitted he’s never caught the sun. She grins conspiratorially, ”I haven’t either, so we can suck at it together. We don’t really do this in Halo.”. She plops her basket down next to his, a dinky little thing next to his nicer one. It’s sort of hilarious, actually, and it feels like the story of Weaver’s life somehow. Dinky little basket versus the rest of the world.
She comes to join him, settling cross-legged onto the ground. He gives her a name (first and last, fancy) and sticks out her hand. She takes it, giving a firm but polite shake. ”Weaver Hale.” Hey, she could use a last name too, why not?
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
Quote by Charles Dickens
