["I'll start at the beginning, then, and hope my storytelling skills haven't rusted over.
"Boxer and I were born on Eden-6. He was from a nomadic people, and I was from a large family that owned even larger farmland. Neither of us came from money, and while my family was admittedly unlearnt in the ways of science, politics, and art, they knew all there was to be had of agriculture and husbandry. Boxer's family, on the other hand, were astrologians and performers.
"We met in the dawn of our awkward teenage years. I was in a dark place at the time, as my Siren powers were starting to develop and leave me with awful growing pains. I cared not for farming, not for lack of enthusiasm, but because peace was only found in thoughts grown in my solitude. I would write songs as I worked, and though my family merely wrote it off as passing the time, Boxer encouraged me to hone my skill. His family taught me how to read and write sheet music.
"As a sequestered people, neither of us knew what it was about me that was different. Siren was not a word we were familiar with until we moved into the city together, as young lovers, and met...as you can imagine, a mixed reaction. With time, we learned what Sirens were, and the unexplored connection they have with the Vault."
Red cups water into her hands and rinses the suds out of Athena's hair, patiently, taking as much time as she needs to get the shampoo out before moving on to the conditioner.
"You might have noticed that at no point in this story has combat ever come up. Boxer was well-read enough to adequately prepare himself for the life he'd have as a Vault Hunter, but he was nonetheless still a fledgeling. It was only a matter of time until he'd gotten into an accident, one that threw him closer than a breath's width from death--and he barely survived.
"Well, I ought to say that he didn't. Even comatose, I was still able to read his mind to find out that, even through all of his agonizing pain, he was fighting to stay alive. I commissioned a thinktank of two of the brightest minds in engineering and Siren magic to create the Transistor, the vessel that now houses his consciousness. He shed his original physical form to strengthen our bond, and now we are as one."
Red takes a moment from the hair wash to hold out her tattooed arm.
no subject
"Boxer and I were born on Eden-6. He was from a nomadic people, and I was from a large family that owned even larger farmland. Neither of us came from money, and while my family was admittedly unlearnt in the ways of science, politics, and art, they knew all there was to be had of agriculture and husbandry. Boxer's family, on the other hand, were astrologians and performers.
"We met in the dawn of our awkward teenage years. I was in a dark place at the time, as my Siren powers were starting to develop and leave me with awful growing pains. I cared not for farming, not for lack of enthusiasm, but because peace was only found in thoughts grown in my solitude. I would write songs as I worked, and though my family merely wrote it off as passing the time, Boxer encouraged me to hone my skill. His family taught me how to read and write sheet music.
"As a sequestered people, neither of us knew what it was about me that was different. Siren was not a word we were familiar with until we moved into the city together, as young lovers, and met...as you can imagine, a mixed reaction. With time, we learned what Sirens were, and the unexplored connection they have with the Vault."
Red cups water into her hands and rinses the suds out of Athena's hair, patiently, taking as much time as she needs to get the shampoo out before moving on to the conditioner.
"You might have noticed that at no point in this story has combat ever come up. Boxer was well-read enough to adequately prepare himself for the life he'd have as a Vault Hunter, but he was nonetheless still a fledgeling. It was only a matter of time until he'd gotten into an accident, one that threw him closer than a breath's width from death--and he barely survived.
"Well, I ought to say that he didn't. Even comatose, I was still able to read his mind to find out that, even through all of his agonizing pain, he was fighting to stay alive. I commissioned a thinktank of two of the brightest minds in engineering and Siren magic to create the Transistor, the vessel that now houses his consciousness. He shed his original physical form to strengthen our bond, and now we are as one."
Red takes a moment from the hair wash to hold out her tattooed arm.
"Don't you think these patterns look familiar?"]