He's more than happy to go along with her change in tone, her evasion, to slip into the bantering that has always characterized his relationships with his companions. It's familiar; it's safe; it reminds him of earlier times, better times, when he was a younger man and everything was simpler.
"Oh, they know there's something out there. They've always been looking for it. Myths and legends and constellations, they've turned their eyes to the night sky and tried to look past it, you know, through all of that dark between the stars. Always wishing for someone to come and visit them, tell them it's all true. Every word of it, every vision, every hope." He's warm, now, sincere, a man speaking on his pet subject, a true love, a source of strength. "Some of them want to be the center of the universe, star of the show, yeah, but...They're not the dreamers, Astrid. They're not the ones who'll come out and join you someday."
He pauses, and for the first time since he's seen her again, there's nothing hidden in his expression—he's happy, gratefully, unbelievingly happy. "They do, you know. I didn't think—but they were there. Year 700,000, and, well, they aren't many, wouldn't have been in the Garden if they were, bit of a rarity, an oddity, but they survive."
One of the instruments beeps and flashes a pulse of lights, demanding his attention, but he's swept up in what he learned in his months away, and he only frowns and smacks it, before turning back to Astrid. Irregular readings, must be a glitch in the system, he'd have to look at that later.
no subject
"Oh, they know there's something out there. They've always been looking for it. Myths and legends and constellations, they've turned their eyes to the night sky and tried to look past it, you know, through all of that dark between the stars. Always wishing for someone to come and visit them, tell them it's all true. Every word of it, every vision, every hope." He's warm, now, sincere, a man speaking on his pet subject, a true love, a source of strength. "Some of them want to be the center of the universe, star of the show, yeah, but...They're not the dreamers, Astrid. They're not the ones who'll come out and join you someday."
He pauses, and for the first time since he's seen her again, there's nothing hidden in his expression—he's happy, gratefully, unbelievingly happy. "They do, you know. I didn't think—but they were there. Year 700,000, and, well, they aren't many, wouldn't have been in the Garden if they were, bit of a rarity, an oddity, but they survive."
One of the instruments beeps and flashes a pulse of lights, demanding his attention, but he's swept up in what he learned in his months away, and he only frowns and smacks it, before turning back to Astrid. Irregular readings, must be a glitch in the system, he'd have to look at that later.