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sonofthemaker
Jul. 1st, 2014 10:47 pmThe sun is more beautiful than Quorra ever imagined.
She watches as it rises through the trees, clinging to Sam's back as they speed down the road on the back of his motorcycle. It's so different - different from anything she has ever known. It's not the cold blue light of the Grid - it's something warmer. Better. And the sheer joy of watching as the light crests the horizon and floods the world in shades of pale gold is worth every second of uncertainty.
It feels like it's warming her from the inside, too, and for that moment she can feel her new heart beating, sense the flow of blood through her veins like energy through circuits, and she throws her head back and grins into the wind, feeling as if she could let go and float on the very sensation itself. But her arms never leave Sam's waist, for he's her anchor to this reality, and if it weren't for him she wouldn't be here in the first place - would never know the touch of the sun on her skin.
Time is hard to keep track of here. Maybe it's just her new organic brain, but she has no idea how many nanoseconds, how many minutes, how many hours pass before they stop. The building ahead of them seems small to her eyes, so used to the soaring light-spun constructions on the Grid, and very dark, but she can just make out the outline of a word - DUMONT - in blue letters. The word reminds her of something, but she can't access the memory like she would a file any longer; even her recollections are different - present, but called to her not by processing power or programming, but by emotion.
She dismounts the bike and stands uncertainly waiting for Sam, not knowing what will come next, but looking forward to it anyway. The sun still bathes them with its all-encompassing light, and it sparkles off nearby water, a stretch of which the building has been constructed next to. There's a bridge nearby, too, and Quorra stares up at it as if she's never seen one before. Technically, she hasn't. No dark steel-forged bridge such as this, in any case.
Everything here in the User world so far seems so solid, so certain. So different. She wonders if she'll ever get used to it and then, in the next thought, hopes that there will always be something new to surprise her. Because so far, it has been...wonderful.
She watches as it rises through the trees, clinging to Sam's back as they speed down the road on the back of his motorcycle. It's so different - different from anything she has ever known. It's not the cold blue light of the Grid - it's something warmer. Better. And the sheer joy of watching as the light crests the horizon and floods the world in shades of pale gold is worth every second of uncertainty.
It feels like it's warming her from the inside, too, and for that moment she can feel her new heart beating, sense the flow of blood through her veins like energy through circuits, and she throws her head back and grins into the wind, feeling as if she could let go and float on the very sensation itself. But her arms never leave Sam's waist, for he's her anchor to this reality, and if it weren't for him she wouldn't be here in the first place - would never know the touch of the sun on her skin.
Time is hard to keep track of here. Maybe it's just her new organic brain, but she has no idea how many nanoseconds, how many minutes, how many hours pass before they stop. The building ahead of them seems small to her eyes, so used to the soaring light-spun constructions on the Grid, and very dark, but she can just make out the outline of a word - DUMONT - in blue letters. The word reminds her of something, but she can't access the memory like she would a file any longer; even her recollections are different - present, but called to her not by processing power or programming, but by emotion.
She dismounts the bike and stands uncertainly waiting for Sam, not knowing what will come next, but looking forward to it anyway. The sun still bathes them with its all-encompassing light, and it sparkles off nearby water, a stretch of which the building has been constructed next to. There's a bridge nearby, too, and Quorra stares up at it as if she's never seen one before. Technically, she hasn't. No dark steel-forged bridge such as this, in any case.
Everything here in the User world so far seems so solid, so certain. So different. She wonders if she'll ever get used to it and then, in the next thought, hopes that there will always be something new to surprise her. Because so far, it has been...wonderful.
