In the meantime this is now a personal blog for concepts and junk I consider too sketchy to be put on my DA.
He hadn’t been at home. Or…the place he worked. MAC wasn’t sure what “home” meant to Wilson. Here, somewhere else. The Core had read about vacations once. Maybe Wilson was just on a very long vacation, away from home. Maybe “home” was too far to go back to. He’d never asked before. Wilson had never volunteered the information.
Lady said that Wilson was a private man. That she knew the type. A million miles away and maybe not in the same timezone. Whatever that meant.
“Wilson?” MAC found the man back in the laboratory. A previously abandoned room whose purpose was vague. Intrepid leaned morosely against the door to Lady’s antechamber. An oddity. Wilson and company was not a sight MAC was accustomed to. Sometimes Scout was there…not so often any more.
The human offers the small Core a smile. Something brittle and ghostly and tired. “Yeah kiddo?”
“Where do you live?” The smile faltered, crumbling into something plastic and false. MAC wanted to believe it hadn’t. That it was still something real.
“Somewhere else.” MAC didn’t ask where.