Lloyd tends to tune out a lot of things when he's lost in thought. It just happens sometimes, a side-effect of an over-active imagination that likes to send thoughts through his brain at the speed of light. Usually, he finds that he tunes back in in time to not have missed anything important - no, academics do not count - and no harm is done, so his little habit doesn't bother. Much.
Seems like it annoys Mithos, though, so Lloyd tries his best to not let his thoughts completely take him away this time, listening to what it is that Mithos has to say as a response. Well, if the Architect had never made a prototype, than who's to say that Lloyd's anywhere close to correct to begin with? Without a Cruxis Crystal, or some sort of different core crystal, maybe Lloyd's just making shit up, thinking too hard about -
That song. Lloyd blinks, knowing it from somewhere, knowing it from someone, a voice distant and quiet but no less audible, ancient words spilling from the lips of someone holding him close. He remembers warmth and melancholy, remembers a calming smile that looked down at him as sleep began to claim him. But that can't - that song was ancient elvish, right? And - and this world doesn't have elves, has never even heard of them as a collective race.
So how does Mithos know it? Know those words?
Completely ignoring what Mithos asks about the dreamscape, Lloyd turns his whole body to face him correctly, staring at him with a shocked expression carried across by disbelieving eyes. "Who taught you that song?!"
AND SHIT HITS THE FAN
Seems like it annoys Mithos, though, so Lloyd tries his best to not let his thoughts completely take him away this time, listening to what it is that Mithos has to say as a response. Well, if the Architect had never made a prototype, than who's to say that Lloyd's anywhere close to correct to begin with? Without a Cruxis Crystal, or some sort of different core crystal, maybe Lloyd's just making shit up, thinking too hard about -
That song. Lloyd blinks, knowing it from somewhere, knowing it from someone, a voice distant and quiet but no less audible, ancient words spilling from the lips of someone holding him close. He remembers warmth and melancholy, remembers a calming smile that looked down at him as sleep began to claim him. But that can't - that song was ancient elvish, right? And - and this world doesn't have elves, has never even heard of them as a collective race.
So how does Mithos know it? Know those words?
Completely ignoring what Mithos asks about the dreamscape, Lloyd turns his whole body to face him correctly, staring at him with a shocked expression carried across by disbelieving eyes. "Who taught you that song?!"