She turns her face up and - as they wind up the street, their group slipping to their sides - they seem to go up and up. The streets that wind and turn until she can point up, looking over the rise.
"There - that is where we are going." And they weren't the only ones, many people were heading that way - as she pointed from the top of the hill they walked up, and before them like a snaking squall of lights, music and brightly dressed people - that were working their way to the Palace that towered up and above.
Ah. That is a hell of a place. Miles can't help but look a bit nervous
staring up at it. "It'll be a hell of a place to escape if you're wrong
about your friend," he murmurs. Not that he truly doubts Lakshmi, just.
Considering tactics.
"He won't. He will help us, he always looked after me when we were children."
She insists on it, she has too. Like the world is ever that simple, or that kind. Not self-aware enough, maybe, or her own brand of naivety. It will not happen, because she is sure of it. But even so, her hand absently grips to him tightly before she forces it to loosens. A face-masked in calm festivity.
It has to be better, it must be better, so many had given so much.
That ... seems a little foolish, admittedly. But what can Miles do but try to believe her? He certainly doesn't have a better plan. "All right," he says with a soft sigh. "But I'm preparing for the worst here."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
"There - that is where we are going." And they weren't the only ones, many people were heading that way - as she pointed from the top of the hill they walked up, and before them like a snaking squall of lights, music and brightly dressed people - that were working their way to the Palace that towered up and above.
no subject
Ah. That is a hell of a place. Miles can't help but look a bit nervous staring up at it. "It'll be a hell of a place to escape if you're wrong about your friend," he murmurs. Not that he truly doubts Lakshmi, just. Considering tactics.
no subject
She insists on it, she has too. Like the world is ever that simple, or that kind. Not self-aware enough, maybe, or her own brand of naivety. It will not happen, because she is sure of it. But even so, her hand absently grips to him tightly before she forces it to loosens. A face-masked in calm festivity.
It has to be better, it must be better, so many had given so much.
no subject