[It lands well enough, even if it’s advice that he’s taken on his own accord more than once. The wish to speak to Carl during times of uncertainty, cropping up so very often in this strange world, in this cumbersome New Amsterdam, is frequent enough that he wonders often what the man would tell him. Yearns for that advice that he’ll never truly hear again.]
I do. Often. Sometimes when I dream (dreaming is new for me, you know), I return to his studio, and I do try to tell him everything that’s happened to me here in New Amsterdam.
[And sometimes the words stick. Other times, they dissipate slowly from his lips, leaving him inarticulate, useless, heavy with the weight of a dream unwilling to lift its haze from his subconscious.
The portrait becomes more recognizable as an individual’s face, that of Carl Manfred, defined by the lines around keen eyes and a wry smile. Markus works in shadow, cleans up the contours. Debates on whether the following would be a comfortable topic to tread, knowing what he does of Prompto.]
Did you have anyone you looked up to when you were growing up?
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I do. Often. Sometimes when I dream (dreaming is new for me, you know), I return to his studio, and I do try to tell him everything that’s happened to me here in New Amsterdam.
[And sometimes the words stick. Other times, they dissipate slowly from his lips, leaving him inarticulate, useless, heavy with the weight of a dream unwilling to lift its haze from his subconscious.
The portrait becomes more recognizable as an individual’s face, that of Carl Manfred, defined by the lines around keen eyes and a wry smile. Markus works in shadow, cleans up the contours. Debates on whether the following would be a comfortable topic to tread, knowing what he does of Prompto.]
Did you have anyone you looked up to when you were growing up?