Daxter tugs on my pant leg, leading me towards a floating platform just big enough for the two of us. “Now toots, I just gotta warn ya I have no clue what is up there.”
I hold on to the railing as the machinery begins to rise, gripping it so hard my knuckles turn white. “How is that supposed to make me feel better?” I ask quietly.
“It's not,” he flat lined, “I don't know what's going on around here, but I don't think the Baron was exactly... charitable to our good old Jakky boy.”
“Oh.” My voice is even smaller than before.
The platform comes to a stop in a foreboding chamber completely made of steel, and I see a familiar figure clad in a pale green prisoner's outfit.
“Ding ding, third floor! Body chains, roach food, torture devices,” Daxter calls out, stepping onto the metal floor.
I follow him, but try to keep my distance from the unconscious man strapped down under a bunch of equipment. Daxter does the exact opposite, leaping up to land right on his chest.
I wince, but the man doesn't seem to notice.
“Hey buddy,” Daxter begins talking, “You seen any heroes around here?”
For a second I think he's being serious, but his next statement makes me realize that both of us know the person that's being held down.
The orange ottsel's ears droop. “Jak, it's me... Daxter!” In response, his eyes flutter open for a second. “That's a fine hello,” Daxter snaps, placing both hands on his hips.
It was hard to realize it at first, but I see it now. His hair still has the telltale yellow, albeit with green at the roots and on his newly grown goatee. Not to mention he looks awfully skinny. I shouldn't be surprised, jails don't exactly give their hostages luxury care, but I'm still shocked by how weak he looks.
I turn away, partiall...
... middle of paper ...
...d encouraged me to look to another familiar face for the relationship that I wanted. …......................
As I climbed down the rocks, I could hear her voice projected out onto the sea, carrying a light tune.
“Don't mind the wind or the rolling sea
The weary nights never trouble me
But the hardest time in a sailor's day
Is to watch the sun as it sinks away”
She reaches down to the water with one hand and uses her pointer finger to trace shapes on the surface, then continues to hum. I want to ask her the rest of the words, but something inside of me is afraid of interrupting her moment.
I wait for some time longer, debating on whether or not to speak up. Just as I'm about to say something, Hannah turns to look behind her and immediately ceases her hymn. Her body goes rigid, as if she's building up the brick wall inside of her, but a second later she relaxes .
and starts to loose her words a bit. She says this quote in a way that
“Just weeping. I can still hear her weeping now sometimes. I know the exact sound of it, like a note you hear or a song that keeps spinning around in your head and you can’t forget it.”
drop away and coast to the hip. He glides past it, and I start to notice
“Yes, it is me, no need to whisper though.” She stated, playing around with the hem of her shirt. “I need to talk to you.” She said plainly and Philip kept blinking his eyes, wondering when she would vanish again.
“Sure, fourth floor.” He then buzzed Bryan up. Bryan walked out the elevator and Vaughn was standing in the doorway. Bryan walked up to Vaughn and didn’t say a word. Vaughn on the other hand
I finally surfaced the water and took what felt like the best breath I ever took in my life. I thought that I saw a face, no wait I did see a face. Maybe my vision was playing tricks on me when I hit something cold and fragile. It was probably Sophie,
It took her a long time to catch her breath,but she finally managed to spit out the words,
"Why not bring me back alive? I'm sure he'd love to watch me rot in a musty cell for eternity." Suprina stood on the edge of the crate, forcing the other side upwards.
he begins to stall by checking to be sure the board is safe. "You've been up on that diving board,
“Deal. Now come on. Let’s go!” Beowulf says as he crouches, ready to take off.
Wendy cried more with recognition of her father’s impatience. Her tongue fumbled to find her words. “I … it’s the voices… I … I heard the whispers daddy.” She said, spitting the words out.
He turned around to see BB-8 rolling at top speed through the crowd, heading in his direction. "Buddy!" Poe yelled out excitedly to the droid. BB-8 rolled to a halt at his feet, and Poe crouched down to the droid's level. "I'm so glad to see you!"
She paused again they thought she was still doing spoken word but she was really getting things off her chest.
How do we know when communication has served to strengthen relationships between people and expand individual viewpoints? When does communication reach beyond individual goals to promote and develop a sense of community? We can attempt to answer questions like these by exploring Martin Buber’s theory of Dialogue.
"They found you unconscious with the necklace thingy, and they placed it on me. I feel much better now."