You guys get... that that's not how time works, right? (I mean mathematically, not how time works, but practically, from a sentient, conscious pov, also not how it seems to work)
Think about it.
There'll be a year of middle or high school that you remember acutely, specific events, good or bad, that seemed to last a lot longer than the year before or after. Or a summer, that stretched, but when you try to recollect the summer before or after, there's almost nothing.
There'll be a birthday party that you remember every single moment of. Or a trip, and you can recall every outing, every restaurant, every street and smell and feeling. And around those, just nothing, months of time and nothing imprinted into the grey matter.
Conscious recollection of time is worse than the actual quantum physics of time (which is saying something). A day can be 99% of your existence, and the rest of forever can not matter a whit.
I mean Blake was on point when he was all 'eternity in an hour'.
Which is to say, the gorgeousness of a single moment can be strung out to sustain over centuries, and the lost longing of a day can be dragged out to feel like millennia.
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Cleo's appearance had always shocked whoever they met.
Her body, by all accounts, was an odd amalgamation of parts. Mostly human, but it held parts akin to insects.
When cleo was first introduced to hermits, she had dug herself out of the ground right in front of them.
The scratched, cracked chitin covering weakened flesh stitched together unnerved the ragtag group. All but Joe.
So naturally they stuck together.
Eventually the others came around too. Though the new ones were always weary to start.
Quite frankly, cleo was just happy she wasn't killed on sight. But that's another story.
When the sixth migration came around however, someone she hadn't expected joined in too.
A watcher who called himself grian.
They had never met before. They didn't need to.
They knew what the other was. One, a watcher. The other, a watcher's subject. Though one was much easier to place than the other.
As watcher's slowly became known amongst the group, it became clear that Grian was one. Specifically, a watcher that seems to be closely related to chaos and mischief.
But cleo? Everyone figured she'd simply stitched on the chitin of beetles for fun. Or protection. Either way, they didn't bother to question. Cleo was nice enough, and they didn't want to piss her off.
Though, as time continued, things became more,,, unstable in the world.
Each migration after brought its own issues, weakening the wall between watchers and the normal realm.
This ultimately unveiled cleo for what she was.
Sometime between a migration, cleo decided to speak up first before it became a problem.
There wasn't exactly any issue per se, as they were already used to Grian. And the forthcoming of other watchers who had newfound interest in the hermits.
That was a relief.
But there was a slight...weariness.
Few interacted with her and she returned the favor.
She found it best this way. Saddening. But for the best.
Eventually, the hermits warmed up again. Cleo's watcher-influenced origins didn't bother them before. They simply just didn't know, and now they did. And now they were ready to accept those facts they had previously without realizing.
That is until during the 9th foundation. And the rifts.
Grumbot, and the subsequent rifts, were nothing but sheer trouble.
Most of the resulting antics were eventually handled but,,, not with ease.
Cleo's ressurector came through. It was nice enough, especially considering it was a watcher. But so was said watcher's enemy, and it was far from amiable.
The ressurector was associated simply with decay, and perhaps the rest of the life cycle. That much was beyond cleo.
And the other, bloodlust and violence.
So, perhaps, it was rather natural the two would be enemies. With cleo caught in the middle.
It's how she died the first time.
So why not again?
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