Monsters. Of course there were monsters. When weren't there monsters anymore?
Jill went on listening with a patient, attentive expression, occasionally looking thoughtful but not interrupting. Partway through, she finished with her hair and tucked it into the back of her suit.
The last part received a slightly puzzled look as she wondered what the meaning and logic behind that was, but she only nodded again and leaned back some on her bed -- appearing, for all intents and purposes, relaxed despite the revelation that there were probably things waiting to kill them somewhere in the tower below. It wasn't arrogance; it was habit, knowing better than to stress herself sooner than necessary and daring to figure that the monstrosities here couldn't be much worse than everything she'd seen.
Even if they were, it would still boil down to learning how to kill them. That, or be killed. Chilling as it sounded, looking at it in black and white like that helped -- it helped Jill, anyway -- because it narrowed down the possibilities to two and between those, she knew which it would have to be. That way of thinking had helped keep her alive for over a decade, so it was safe to call it habit by now, even instinct.
"How often do people leave the tower?" she asked. She'd almost said How often do people go home, but given the lies they were weaving, she doubted they would phrase it as such. Assuming they did send people back.
no subject
Jill went on listening with a patient, attentive expression, occasionally looking thoughtful but not interrupting. Partway through, she finished with her hair and tucked it into the back of her suit.
The last part received a slightly puzzled look as she wondered what the meaning and logic behind that was, but she only nodded again and leaned back some on her bed -- appearing, for all intents and purposes, relaxed despite the revelation that there were probably things waiting to kill them somewhere in the tower below. It wasn't arrogance; it was habit, knowing better than to stress herself sooner than necessary and daring to figure that the monstrosities here couldn't be much worse than everything she'd seen.
Even if they were, it would still boil down to learning how to kill them. That, or be killed. Chilling as it sounded, looking at it in black and white like that helped -- it helped Jill, anyway -- because it narrowed down the possibilities to two and between those, she knew which it would have to be. That way of thinking had helped keep her alive for over a decade, so it was safe to call it habit by now, even instinct.
"How often do people leave the tower?" she asked. She'd almost said How often do people go home, but given the lies they were weaving, she doubted they would phrase it as such. Assuming they did send people back.