Fodmodmadtol
30-06-2006, 18:47
"An old, decrepit institution. . . It was a good idea at the time, you know. It was even powerful once. This was long, long ago, however, long before Fod joined that union. . . Long before Fod left that union. When we did join, it was already well past its prime, dust gathering around its ears. . ."
"I desperately want to see. . . How much longer until we arrive?"
"A while yet, around an hour or so. We're close, though."
The old man glanced out the window to the ocean below, crumpled reflective. Other passengers had fallen asleep to the dull lullaby of the rotors, but the young one was awake. Eager, that one. Hesitantly he leaned away from the window, dusty bones creaking. He spoke with a salted throat, that old one.
And that young one, so eager, so bright eyed, so willing? He was quiet. Most of the time, anyway. Agoraphobia, or something like that. Couldn't speak in front of too many people. The old one was disarming, is all. Asides from which, he was really only listening to the stories of the old one.
"Not allowed to touch anything unless I say you can. . . We assume that former nations pulled out of their claimed territory, not sure though. Not as if the Empire was of any strategic military or economic value. Just, as I see it, the club house. . . Where the members would chat and such. Then again. . . Someone might have used it to test something atomic-"
"What happened to it?"
"To what?"
"The Empire."
The old one took a moment to gather himself, for it wasn't really all that simple of a question. It would be simple to answer in regards to other things, yes, but not this. Empires can rise, fall, collapse, be conquered, many things. . . But this one. . . Just sort of. . .
"It was swallowed, boy. . ."
"The ocean?"
"By apathy."
"I desperately want to see. . . How much longer until we arrive?"
"A while yet, around an hour or so. We're close, though."
The old man glanced out the window to the ocean below, crumpled reflective. Other passengers had fallen asleep to the dull lullaby of the rotors, but the young one was awake. Eager, that one. Hesitantly he leaned away from the window, dusty bones creaking. He spoke with a salted throat, that old one.
And that young one, so eager, so bright eyed, so willing? He was quiet. Most of the time, anyway. Agoraphobia, or something like that. Couldn't speak in front of too many people. The old one was disarming, is all. Asides from which, he was really only listening to the stories of the old one.
"Not allowed to touch anything unless I say you can. . . We assume that former nations pulled out of their claimed territory, not sure though. Not as if the Empire was of any strategic military or economic value. Just, as I see it, the club house. . . Where the members would chat and such. Then again. . . Someone might have used it to test something atomic-"
"What happened to it?"
"To what?"
"The Empire."
The old one took a moment to gather himself, for it wasn't really all that simple of a question. It would be simple to answer in regards to other things, yes, but not this. Empires can rise, fall, collapse, be conquered, many things. . . But this one. . . Just sort of. . .
"It was swallowed, boy. . ."
"The ocean?"
"By apathy."