Why would the animals be missing at all? I don't even hear insects. And this time of year we should.
[The pristine look is starting to feel almost grating to Law. It's frustrating. It's too perfect and Law's stomach feels like it's got a weight in it while he looks around. Worse, while Law claims to love quiet, and often enjoys it thoroughly? The human body is conditioned to expect noise. Save for when the loss or absence of hearing is involved every moment from birth to death comes with a certain amount of ambient sound. And while yes, there's the lightest sound of the wind, it's distant. The sound of their own movements, the closing of the doors, the knocking on her door after the walk up...
It's all so much louder with just the loss of the expected drone that even the countryside should have.
A thin dark haired woman in her forties opens the door soon after, and it's like the world comes to life from inside of her house. The sound of a cat crying towards the back of the room sounds out, with the drone of some sort of machinery, the odd whirring sounds of an aging refrigerator, the chirps of several birds just out of view, and the serenade of soft vintage country music. He's never been particular fan of the genre but right now it's entirely comforting.
The break in the silence is a beautiful thing indeed.
It's not idyllic in here, either. This is a real country home, faded wall paper and the table right next to the door is nearly overflowing with letters and papers, there's dirt on the entryway rug too. It smells a little dusty, along with the scent of incense, and something baking too. The woman herself has either flour or powdered sugar dusted on her apron, and she's visibly irritated at the interruption.
It's real. That's why it all feels so good to him compared to the outside's false perfection and unnatural quiet.]
"Who are you? I don't want to buy anything. I know the lord and I have insurance. You should go home. Quickly." [She looks them over, with shrewd judgement.] "You're not here to sell anything, are you?" [Law shakes his head. He's not the best at this, Rosinante usually smooths things over so nicely when he needs to, but Law is invested today.] No, we're not. We hope you can help us with something. [She's not very interested, from how her nose wrinkles up and her brows furrow.] It's about the list. [Her whole demeanor changes when he brings it up, and she looks around nervously a little.] "Hurry in. Make yourselves comfortable, and goodness please watch your head as you come in!
no subject
[The pristine look is starting to feel almost grating to Law. It's frustrating. It's too perfect and Law's stomach feels like it's got a weight in it while he looks around. Worse, while Law claims to love quiet, and often enjoys it thoroughly? The human body is conditioned to expect noise. Save for when the loss or absence of hearing is involved every moment from birth to death comes with a certain amount of ambient sound. And while yes, there's the lightest sound of the wind, it's distant. The sound of their own movements, the closing of the doors, the knocking on her door after the walk up...
It's all so much louder with just the loss of the expected drone that even the countryside should have.
A thin dark haired woman in her forties opens the door soon after, and it's like the world comes to life from inside of her house. The sound of a cat crying towards the back of the room sounds out, with the drone of some sort of machinery, the odd whirring sounds of an aging refrigerator, the chirps of several birds just out of view, and the serenade of soft vintage country music. He's never been particular fan of the genre but right now it's entirely comforting.
The break in the silence is a beautiful thing indeed.
It's not idyllic in here, either. This is a real country home, faded wall paper and the table right next to the door is nearly overflowing with letters and papers, there's dirt on the entryway rug too. It smells a little dusty, along with the scent of incense, and something baking too. The woman herself has either flour or powdered sugar dusted on her apron, and she's visibly irritated at the interruption.
It's real. That's why it all feels so good to him compared to the outside's false perfection and unnatural quiet.]
"Who are you? I don't want to buy anything. I know the lord and I have insurance. You should go home. Quickly." [She looks them over, with shrewd judgement.] "You're not here to sell anything, are you?" [Law shakes his head. He's not the best at this, Rosinante usually smooths things over so nicely when he needs to, but Law is invested today.] No, we're not. We hope you can help us with something. [She's not very interested, from how her nose wrinkles up and her brows furrow.] It's about the list. [Her whole demeanor changes when he brings it up, and she looks around nervously a little.] "Hurry in. Make yourselves comfortable, and goodness please watch your head as you come in!