put it simply, moribund did not get weekly tasks.
they were a slave. they were supposed to be a useful slave. they could do it; adapt and prove their worth. and surely that meant demonstrating their ability to carry out whatever unorthodox tasks were to be ushered upon them. gaining their own competence, despite their lack of apparent ability.
personal strength; it was a foreign concept to the twins. power meant... agency. something they never possesed before. but the pitt was a new world. it offered an opportunity. what opportunity, they did not know. their world was a limited. two one tracked minds. the irony. to be exposed to something new was inconceivable. it shattered their world. change was new and scary.
but this type of change wasnt-- it was offered on a premise they could understand. agency seemed unachievable. but if others had grabbed hold of the thing the juvenile thought to be most distant, then perhaps there was hope for them.
hope. a fickle thing. never, ever put your trust in hope.
the polycephaly slave announced their arrival with a quiet kick of hooves across sand; saw this... offering of weekly tasks as something of obligation rather than an optional occurrence.
their inhibitions were slowly draining; no longer were they so afraid as to speak. loosening. the stiff tone of feigned politeness, shifted.
"what do you have for us?"
they were a slave. they were supposed to be a useful slave. they could do it; adapt and prove their worth. and surely that meant demonstrating their ability to carry out whatever unorthodox tasks were to be ushered upon them. gaining their own competence, despite their lack of apparent ability.
personal strength; it was a foreign concept to the twins. power meant... agency. something they never possesed before. but the pitt was a new world. it offered an opportunity. what opportunity, they did not know. their world was a limited. two one tracked minds. the irony. to be exposed to something new was inconceivable. it shattered their world. change was new and scary.
but this type of change wasnt-- it was offered on a premise they could understand. agency seemed unachievable. but if others had grabbed hold of the thing the juvenile thought to be most distant, then perhaps there was hope for them.
hope. a fickle thing. never, ever put your trust in hope.
the polycephaly slave announced their arrival with a quiet kick of hooves across sand; saw this... offering of weekly tasks as something of obligation rather than an optional occurrence.
their inhibitions were slowly draining; no longer were they so afraid as to speak. loosening. the stiff tone of feigned politeness, shifted.
"what do you have for us?"
[glow=grey,2,300]･ﾟ✦ —— tags[/glow]
[align=center][div style="font-size:10pt;color:black;font-family: arialblack; 1px;"]CONSTANTLY CONSUMING , CONQUER AND DEVOUR[div style="font-size:8pt;line-height:.1.5;color:black;font-family:arial;margin-bottom:5px;margin-top:-2px"]THE PITT —— 9 MOONS ･✦——TAGS