psl; for daneel
Beverly does not fail to see the irony here in landing on this planet that grants empathic, even telepathic, abilities to its inhabitants and visitors so soon after expressing her desire to share such a connection with Daneel. But she pushes the thoughts of audience and narrative building to the side and focuses on simply exploring this new world, enjoying the fresh open air, so different from the toxic moon they left behind. Every day, she goes out, sometimes together with Daneel, sometimes separate, to talk to the locals and eat the hearty food and hike around the hot springs, then returns at night to their cozy little rented cabin built into the roots of an enormous old tree.
It's a retreat in domesticity that she knows won't last. Moreover, she'd never really be satisfied with it anyway - she's too much of a Starfleet officer - but for now, it is enough.
It's a retreat in domesticity that she knows won't last. Moreover, she'd never really be satisfied with it anyway - she's too much of a Starfleet officer - but for now, it is enough.

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For him, his brand of telepathy is a secret, a powerful thing to be handled delicately and generally silently, and definitely not a thing to be shared about. Here, it's taken as a given. And even if, to the local view, he isn't always actively involved, he listens, and drinks in the feelings of this place. It's not like any world he's conceived of, a world where telepathic feelings -- however weakly -- pass between people in a whole extra sense of communication.
He likes it. It seems like something more worlds should aspire to.
This evening, he sits in front of the cabin, sketching thoughtfully, waiting for Beverly to return.
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