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"Beautiful, beautiful. Magnificent desolation." -- Buzz Aldrin
"Man shouldn't revel in darkness. One should not court it, woo it, flatter it; take it to bed, or wrap one's naked skin in it. Why?" Cesare gazes into the distance. His eyes are amber sweetness, dead things trapped in them. "For desolation and despair will have their way with you. Once you have fallen in their company, it will be difficult to disentangle yourself."
When he glances at his hands, he notices how hard the right grabs the left.
"But perhaps your Master Aldrin, whoever he is, speaks of a different kind of desolation. Not the wastelands of the soul, but a kind of tabula rasa. The smoking plains of Geenna. I luoghi nascosti; luoghi de fuoco. I have seen such places." There's a smile, slow in creeping up and painful around the edges. "I can see the attraction. But where is the point in becoming a ruler of ashes?"
"Man shouldn't revel in darkness. One should not court it, woo it, flatter it; take it to bed, or wrap one's naked skin in it. Why?" Cesare gazes into the distance. His eyes are amber sweetness, dead things trapped in them. "For desolation and despair will have their way with you. Once you have fallen in their company, it will be difficult to disentangle yourself."
When he glances at his hands, he notices how hard the right grabs the left.
"But perhaps your Master Aldrin, whoever he is, speaks of a different kind of desolation. Not the wastelands of the soul, but a kind of tabula rasa. The smoking plains of Geenna. I luoghi nascosti; luoghi de fuoco. I have seen such places." There's a smile, slow in creeping up and painful around the edges. "I can see the attraction. But where is the point in becoming a ruler of ashes?"
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