[ it seems like every time dextera thinks he’s learning to handle the archangel, he steps on some new landmine. he wonders what possessed him to think that the archangel would appreciate his growth—in reflection, in the face of the archangel’s imposing certainty, he feels foolish for bringing it up.
he lowers his head in contrition, under the shadow of the archangel’s wings. ]
I’m sorry.
[ his voice is small and thin in communion, barely audible under the archangel’s actual condemnation. what’s stronger than what he says is how much he doesn’t want the absolute god’s shard. if he were going to get anyone’s, he would want… ]
no subject
he lowers his head in contrition, under the shadow of the archangel’s wings. ]
I’m sorry.
[ his voice is small and thin in communion, barely audible under the archangel’s actual condemnation. what’s stronger than what he says is how much he doesn’t want the absolute god’s shard. if he were going to get anyone’s, he would want… ]
Can’t Yima…?