two mysterious immortals watching the centuries slip by
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"The world is both larger and smaller than we think it is, sometimes."

Overhead, Ikaros screams a hunting cry.

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Nod, nod.

Hob looks up, at the sound. "Does that mean he sees something or just that he's having a nice time flying?"

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"Looking for a fish, I'd guess. It's been a while since we've seen the sea."

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"Oh. Well then I am very happy for him and I hope he finds a fish."

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"Indeed." Kassandra glances around the harbor, eyes lighting on a crane. "We should give him time to hunt before we find a ship, I think... Tell me, Hob Gadling, would you enjoy seeing the world as a bird does?"

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"I enjoy most things, so probably? ... I am fascinated by the sense that this is not a hypothetical question."

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"Follow me." She leads the way over to the base of the crane and after a quick check to make sure her weapons are secure, jumps up to secure a hand- and foothold between the wooden slats on the side and starts climbing.

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Is that. Possible for him to do.

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... Eh, fuck it, if he falls he'll be fine. Allons-y, as the French say.

 

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It's not like this is freeclimbing up a hundred-foot cliff face in the dead of night to storm an enemy fortress. All he needs to do is put his limbs where Kassandra does, until they can scramble up on top of the boom arm and walk out to the end of it.

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He can indeed manage not to fall using this strategy! 

" - oh," Hob murmurs, struck quieter than Kassandra has seen him yet, when he's standing where he's been pointed, and looking out on the channel, at the bustle of the port below. The sky and the sea and the people, just large enough to be distinguishable, small enough to be more numerous than you can usually see all at once. Going about their lives, fishing and smithing and shipping, the infinite work of humanity. A thousand different ways to be that he hasn't tried yet but will, someday, because he has all the time in the world.

It's beautiful. 

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"Perspective, Hob Gadling. How do you like this view?"

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"Never seen anything quite like it, I think. Is it still this beautiful when you've seen a thousand thousand more things?"

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"Each time, it is unique."

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"... yeah?"

He was honestly kind of expecting to hear 'no, you're going to have to try harder than that to enjoy immortality, dumbass.'

"I look forward to seeing it many times, then." 

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"People are always changing. The same things are done, the same dramas enacted, but by new hands and with new feelings."

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Someday maybe he is going to be that good at saying lovely true things poetically?

"...yeah."

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It's something you pick up over time.

"Take all the time you need. Let me know when you're ready to return to the ground.

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It'll be a little bit, but not a long bit. There's more wonders to see.

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The easiest way down is, of course, to jump.

And if he does it right, he can even avoid breaking any bones.

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Wheeeeeeeeeee-

 

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ow.

He does know how to fall properly, in principle, but has never done it from this height, is not a perfect mimic, and accordingly has broken his wrist.

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"... and now I know how not to do that."

 

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"Try aiming for soft things," she advises. "Like haystacks. Do you want help splinting that?"

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"Wouldn't turn it down."

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