Af was fascinated by the random choices the Sim came up with, but, bluntly, they weren’t all hits. Today they and Ko found themselves in a dour grey space that housed relics of bygone violence. “These people had a very strict pecking order,” they observed.
Ko cocked their head, grinning. ‘I’ll peck you in a strict order.”
Af flushed. “I don’t think it was as fun as it sounds. They weren’t given much latitude.”
“They were sure given medals.” They had entered a room was full of life-size figures in ancient regalia. “And the occasional ribbon.”
Af couldn’t bear to think about what these people had done to earn their trophies. She read the name printed on one of the glass cases. “Commander Quinn.” The bill of his cap nearly hid his brown eyes.
Another room was full of equipment, all olive drab metal. Atop a squat tripod, a menacing tube pointed toward the ceiling. “I think it’s a … howser?” Ko stumbled over the unfamiliar word.
“I think you say ‘howitzer.'” Af sighed. They glanced out the window, and cupped Ko’s cheek. “The heck with all this,” they said. “Let’s just go make out in the quad.”
phrases: pec, lat, quad, brown, cup, commander, grey, bear, quinn, medal, bill, try, house, howser, trophy, ribbon