"The elf from Faerûn, Tav, he disappeared last month. Back to Faerûn, or the Fade, or wherever Rifters go."
She closes the door behind her, and approaches his desk, spreading her notes out in front of him.
"I knew you'd think I was being hasty if I came to you when we first noticed, so I made sure to wait. I tried to think of everything you might say, and I came up with rebuttals, and then I tried to think of everything you would say to those and come up with rebuttals to that."
Each page of her notes is titled as a numbered list—1. No one knows how much time they have, 2. It might not even work, 3. What if it does work and more Rifters want to do it, 4. We still don't have penicillin and our healer is missing. Each page has a list of points and counterpoints, written in the shaky cursive of one writing with their off-hand.
"I can't live with this hanging over my head, Stephen. Not with everything else I already fear. It will drive me mad, to know I can't be certain that I won't just disappear at any moment. All of this, everything I do, everyone I care about, it could all be for nothing, and I—"
She cuts herself off, taking a shaky breath. For a moment, she closes her eyes, and breathes deeply, centering herself. When she opens her eyes again, she looks Stephen in the eye, steely.
"I can summarize each page if you want, or we can go through the whole debate and I'll try to listen to you. But to dissuade me entirely will be very difficult for you."
no subject
She closes the door behind her, and approaches his desk, spreading her notes out in front of him.
"I knew you'd think I was being hasty if I came to you when we first noticed, so I made sure to wait. I tried to think of everything you might say, and I came up with rebuttals, and then I tried to think of everything you would say to those and come up with rebuttals to that."
Each page of her notes is titled as a numbered list—1. No one knows how much time they have, 2. It might not even work, 3. What if it does work and more Rifters want to do it, 4. We still don't have penicillin and our healer is missing. Each page has a list of points and counterpoints, written in the shaky cursive of one writing with their off-hand.
"I can't live with this hanging over my head, Stephen. Not with everything else I already fear. It will drive me mad, to know I can't be certain that I won't just disappear at any moment. All of this, everything I do, everyone I care about, it could all be for nothing, and I—"
She cuts herself off, taking a shaky breath. For a moment, she closes her eyes, and breathes deeply, centering herself. When she opens her eyes again, she looks Stephen in the eye, steely.
"I can summarize each page if you want, or we can go through the whole debate and I'll try to listen to you. But to dissuade me entirely will be very difficult for you."