[Society is quite stuffy and hateful all around, really. Life isn't even often celebrated by the living.]
Can you do that normally? [And she does, despite herself, what is a whole bunch of layers of interacting with others a certain way, seem charmed by the idea.] Maybe it's because nothing can fly away from here.
[It really does seem like she's the odd one out here amongst all of these people who accept magic as a given. If she had that kind of power in her hands, could she make her wish happen?
At the mention of the paper airplane, something that Siffrin thinks they might be able to get operating normally despite no one here being able to do much of anything, Andrew's curiosity is piqued.]
[ A neat fun trick. That realistically shouldn't be called a paper airplane, because there are no planes in ISAT, but I don't care. There's no colors either and they still use the turn of phrase. ]
There's some for keeping score in the billiards room.
[She doesn't seem as familiar with the workshop. After mentioning the billiards room and thinking of its location on the floor, however, Andrew pauses.]
Well, it's a palace. It'd be foolish not to be able to find paper almost anywhere.
[ (You think of the House of Change and what it's become.
...
Yeah. It would be foolish.)
So it's easy enough to find some in a drawer. There always is paper lying around in palaces for no reason. Siffrin'll start folding it carefully, the creases clean and neat, until they've got a pointed "dart" of a construction, wings even in their width; throughout the short process, they mutter something along the lines of "please don't fold wrong please don't fold wrong please don't fold wrong" until it's done.
[She watches them fold up piece of paper into a neat little vehicle. It's not quite as elegant as their carved bird, but the clean lines of the wings are admirable anyway.
Andrew tilts the nose into the air, slightly, and skims the paper plane across the room. For a first attempt, it goes rather well. The paper's descent is slow, a petal coasting to the ground.]
...It's just catching the air, right?
[Then again, isn't that more than half of all that flying is?]
[ So yes, it is. Siffrin'll start to make another, this time more bird-like in its folds. Gentle bending for its wings, a second paper to form its face... ]
Just a little wind. [ ... ] People are wind, too. That's what... I heard, a long time ago. That we're the wind that can help others.
[It's a metaphor that falls a little flat for her at first, bound up as she is by thoughts of death and the very real possibility that nothing will fly from this place again.
She also doesn't go to pick up the airplane where it's fallen to the ground several feet away, though that's just because she's feeling very tired.]
By carrying them or pushing them forward? [Could she see herself as the wind helping someone fly?]
Yeah. I think it's a nice thought, at least, like having the "wind" at your back on the sea.
[ Having people you could trust... Siffrin'll finish their little ritual the same way they did before, then set the bird aside as they go to retrieve the plane and place it beside the neat animal. ]
... Helps to cool off a hot day, and push rain off a wet one... There's a lot someone can do, like that.
[Now that Siffrin has brought the paper airplane all the way back and set it down so the two are together, Andrew picks up the bird. She lets it go loosely, giving it a gentle push into the stagnant air, to see if it'll fly as well.]
[There's something final about them, something very past-tense. She intends to leave it and not return to it.]
I much prefer the bird. [And she will go to pick that one up, strangely enough, if only because it positions her to leave the room soon.] Thank you for your apology gift. Don't make me another.
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Can you do that normally? [And she does, despite herself, what is a whole bunch of layers of interacting with others a certain way, seem charmed by the idea.] Maybe it's because nothing can fly away from here.
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But! Another nod! ]
Yeah. When I Craft stuff, I can make them move... sing... stuff like that. Usually. Um, it's my world's... "magic". You could say.
[ And she should, because it is. ]
... I think I could still make a paper airplane fly, though.
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At the mention of the paper airplane, something that Siffrin thinks they might be able to get operating normally despite no one here being able to do much of anything, Andrew's curiosity is piqued.]
Hmm, and what's that?
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I need a piece of paper to show you.
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[She doesn't seem as familiar with the workshop. After mentioning the billiards room and thinking of its location on the floor, however, Andrew pauses.]
Well, it's a palace. It'd be foolish not to be able to find paper almost anywhere.
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...
Yeah. It would be foolish.)
So it's easy enough to find some in a drawer. There always is paper lying around in palaces for no reason. Siffrin'll start folding it carefully, the creases clean and neat, until they've got a pointed "dart" of a construction, wings even in their width; throughout the short process, they mutter something along the lines of "please don't fold wrong please don't fold wrong please don't fold wrong" until it's done.
There!
(It looks nice, just like you hoped.)
They'll hold it up to her. ]
All you do it throw it. Angle a little high.
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Andrew tilts the nose into the air, slightly, and skims the paper plane across the room. For a first attempt, it goes rather well. The paper's descent is slow, a petal coasting to the ground.]
...It's just catching the air, right?
[Then again, isn't that more than half of all that flying is?]
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[ So yes, it is. Siffrin'll start to make another, this time more bird-like in its folds. Gentle bending for its wings, a second paper to form its face... ]
Just a little wind. [ ... ] People are wind, too. That's what... I heard, a long time ago. That we're the wind that can help others.
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She also doesn't go to pick up the airplane where it's fallen to the ground several feet away, though that's just because she's feeling very tired.]
By carrying them or pushing them forward? [Could she see herself as the wind helping someone fly?]
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[ Having people you could trust... Siffrin'll finish their little ritual the same way they did before, then set the bird aside as they go to retrieve the plane and place it beside the neat animal. ]
... Helps to cool off a hot day, and push rain off a wet one... There's a lot someone can do, like that.
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[Looking down at the paper bird, Andrew can't help but wonder what it would really take to see it fly freely.]
Are you like that...to anyone?
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...)
The answer is quiet and idle, said with a smile. Like it doesn't matter when it really, really does. ]
Not really.
[ (An uplifting breeze is different than an unrelenting gale, after all.) ]
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Neither am I. [She says, also like it doesn't.
Had Tia ever once...also felt this way?]
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... Some people are more like sails.
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[There's something final about them, something very past-tense. She intends to leave it and not return to it.]
I much prefer the bird. [And she will go to pick that one up, strangely enough, if only because it positions her to leave the room soon.] Thank you for your apology gift. Don't make me another.
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[ The plane to them, then... Maybe they'll unfold it and make something new in time. ]
It's nice talking to you.