[ If someone were to actually ask Charles why in god's name he's out here, he might, at this juncture, leave it up to said god--it doesn't even matter which, whether one familiar or as alien as the landscape--to answer that for him. By all rights, he really shouldn't be: the terrain is hell on his chair, the sand is hell on his hair, the weather is hell on...everything else.
It seems a strange thing--a stupid thing, really--to leave that up to whim to dictate. This isn't necessarily something he wants, but something he's drawn to instead. It isn't quite explicable, or even reasonable, but he's here and committed to it now. Maybe it's some half memory he doesn't have. Rumours of things he should remember (things even his students seem to recall but he can't). Raven's once-adamant insistence that Cairo would be where everything changed. There's always been enough mystery in ancient cultures, and the study thereof, that his interest is piqued at least, and maybe that's enough.
The consideration and pondering of that draw don't seem to matter much, however, when in the course of trying to find some meager resource against the wind and sand, it isn't just a vague pull that holds his attention, but something in his mind that rings all too familiar. At first, he brushes it off (this can't be right), then squints into the wind, as if that will change anything. Finally, when there's nothing left for his denial but to confirm it, he approaches, rough terrain and all. ]
Strange isn't the half of it.
[ Which is said as he realizes there's no room left for doubt at all. ]
so abt those pyramids buddy
It seems a strange thing--a stupid thing, really--to leave that up to whim to dictate. This isn't necessarily something he wants, but something he's drawn to instead. It isn't quite explicable, or even reasonable, but he's here and committed to it now. Maybe it's some half memory he doesn't have. Rumours of things he should remember (things even his students seem to recall but he can't). Raven's once-adamant insistence that Cairo would be where everything changed. There's always been enough mystery in ancient cultures, and the study thereof, that his interest is piqued at least, and maybe that's enough.
The consideration and pondering of that draw don't seem to matter much, however, when in the course of trying to find some meager resource against the wind and sand, it isn't just a vague pull that holds his attention, but something in his mind that rings all too familiar. At first, he brushes it off (this can't be right), then squints into the wind, as if that will change anything. Finally, when there's nothing left for his denial but to confirm it, he approaches, rough terrain and all. ]
Strange isn't the half of it.
[ Which is said as he realizes there's no room left for doubt at all. ]