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[The username reads as 'Bismarck.' The picture is of a nondescript piece of purple-painted metal. Is there a pattern here with the previous post? Huh, he didn't notice.]

Tell me a little about your world?

[The request is simple, and harmless enough. No one is obligated to answer, no one is obligated to answer with details if they do.

[It's just a little bit of recon, that's all.]

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Gone? Gone how?

A sweater is generally knit from a few very long strands of yarn, yes? [Odd metaphor, but stick with her.] If you pull on the end, the whole thing comes apart.

That was how Columbia, the city in the clouds, disappeared. The end came loose, and it was pulled.

You have anything to do with the pulling?

Why? Are you the Metaphorical Sweater Police?

[She sounds more amused than defensive, but maybe that's working against her. Not that she's ashamed of what she did -- it had to be done. It's more... method, that she's not so keen to discuss.]

I'm not gonna try to force you to answer, you've just got me curious. You're spinning a story here, you seem to know your stuff.

Everyone loves a good story, I suppose. [There's a silent shrug in here.]

I was there. My friend and I brought the city down, it was best for everyone involved. Trust me.

I'm not here to pass judgment. It doesn't sound like it was easy.

Mm, I guess any kind of judgment is a little too late anyway. What's done is done. But everybody can still have an opinion.

...No, it wasn't. [Leaving was easy, destroying Columbia was easy. The cost of all of that, losing Booker forever-- that was hard.] You ever try to escape a flying city with limited airships and everyone shooting at you? And I mean everyone.

Actually... I can kind of relate to that one. And no, it really isn't easy. You're lucky to make it out, and even luckier if you don't lose something on the way.

[And shortly after sending that one:]

And I'm not asking if you did. That's personal, not something you ask a stranger.

What's your favorite thing about being here, then?

[Damn right it's not. Elizabeth's brow furrows because she lost everything to Columbia-- her freedom, her chance at a normal life, Booker... everything. She's about to leave it there when he drops it, and after a moment of stewing she admits that these conversations can be strange over text.]

Honestly? I can't say. I had an accident with some Ingress energy a few months back, wiped out most of my memory of being here. But, after going through some of my things, I seemed to love the Moira.

The Moira? Excuse the 20 questions, I'm incredibly new to the scene here.

Ah, then you wouldn't know. [Kind of explains the vague 'Tell me about your timeline' thing he's doing.] It was a space ship that originated from these planets. It had an Ingress on it, which began malfunctioning and brought more people from other timelines onto the ship. We were consigned as crew, and worked while we traveled to this place-- where supposedly we could find our way home.

It crashed on the last planet before the crew arrived here. Up until then, I was her First Mate. You don't just sign on for that sort of position without some love involved, right?

No, you don't. Love for the ship, or for the people on it, anyway. You sound like the kind of person I'd be glad to have in charge, though.

Has it been hard to adjust to things here?

That's quite a vote of confidence given we've only been chatting for a few minutes. [But she can't say she isn't a little pleased with the compliment.]

Well, when you said you related to people shooting at you, I imagine you'd probably feel the same way I did once I realized no one was shooting at me. Or would shoot at me again.

I call them like I see them.

[And he sees someone he'd trust.]

... That hasn't quite sunk in yet.

[he IS replying to a voice thread with text.]

...can't argue with that, I suppose.

[He's very trusting, isn't he? It's an odd thing to hear from someone who seems to be pragmatic, but also fairly trusting. Those two don't really go hand-in-hand as far as she's concerned.]

Maybe you'll get lucky and it won't happen. Strange things do tend to happen around here, though usually not the armed-conflict kind. So it isn't all grocery lists and walking the dog.

There's a shooting range I go to sometimes, it can help a bit if you ignore the people who are a little too excited about firearms. [They mostly leave her alone now, given she brings what they term 'antiques'.]

I'd probably benefit from a little daily practice.

[He goes directly for "daily."]

It'd keep me from going nuts, I'm sure.

Daily? You want to go daily, you should find yourself a different place. People might start to think you're their friend if they see you there enough. [She hums in amusement.]

But yes, it does offer... familiarity. If that's something you need.

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