But the daytime is quiet. A little too quiet, maybe, and you frown, looking around. Sure enough, there's kids at the windows of a lot of the nearby hivestem, their curtains open and outlines blurred behind the tinted glass. They're not looking down at them, though.
Their faces are angled up, towards the next block over.
"Hold it," you say, irritable. The kid is acting like this is a fucking emergency, but none of you are really cullbait: the kid and Pheres aren't about to be culled just for looking skinny as fuck, you've got the Shepherd's symbol emblazoned bold on the back of your cloak, and Marduk seems like the sort of dumbass that could rattle off her imperial signature in her sleep. "It's a culling sweep. So what?"
no subject
But the daytime is quiet. A little too quiet, maybe, and you frown, looking around. Sure enough, there's kids at the windows of a lot of the nearby hivestem, their curtains open and outlines blurred behind the tinted glass. They're not looking down at them, though.
Their faces are angled up, towards the next block over.
"Hold it," you say, irritable. The kid is acting like this is a fucking emergency, but none of you are really cullbait: the kid and Pheres aren't about to be culled just for looking skinny as fuck, you've got the Shepherd's symbol emblazoned bold on the back of your cloak, and Marduk seems like the sort of dumbass that could rattle off her imperial signature in her sleep. "It's a culling sweep. So what?"