#hivemnd

"Where are you taking me?!" All he remembered from before was sneaking around the empty streets, trying to figure out how he ended up in this kind of mess again. Only to be struck in the back of the head and everything going dark. Now here he was, tied up and over the shoulder of the infected boyfriend. His struggles coming to a stop when feeling the firm yet calm tapping of bloodied claws on his back. While it wouldn't tear its host apart because they needed them alive Keith wasn't sure that same mercy would be extended to him. Even if he was just a different variation of said host.

The Luteces have been observing this city for some time. Rather, for many times. When scattered across the entirety of time and space, some spaces (i.e. places (i.e. cities)) are inevitably recursive. Such is the case with Paris. What they have come to perceive about this particular city is, to all appearances, illogical.

“All thoughts are our own. All we are comprised of is a coherence of thoughts. All of Paris seems to think in a uniform composition. Therefore, all people are one shared people.” “A valid argument, but not a sound one.” “For all your talk of sound you are not hearing me very well.” “What have I to hear?” “The unthinkable.” “A rather bleak turn.” “What thoughts are the people not thinking and are they of like disposition?” “Ah, I see what you mean.” “You see my soundness, but we have yet to hear any reason.”

"It would be foolish to not acknowledge the effort that is put into something." Even if that goal was towards a negative goal, eyes glancing around at the scene surrounding them.