[ cassian has, of course, no intention of answering any of those questions.
in fact he barely seems like he's heard them. there's a tinge of exasperation, impatience, that touches his expression, but that's all there is. of course he won't apologize. of course he won't say how many knives he has. and he has no interest in killing the infected man now that he's incapacitated, no longer an active threat to either the young man from earlier or vash now. in fact, he glances back in the direction of the medical center briefly, wondering if they should take him back there. or — somewhere.
but then something cool touches his skin, then another, then another. the clouds above finally making good on the promise of snow from before with flurries beginning in earnest. cassian glances upwards, the flakes starting to collect on his gloves, his sleeves, melting into the exposed skin of his wrists and face and into his hair. he shivers.
then his next breath is a sharp inhale, every line of his body seeming to tense. he swallows, then he looks to vash, jerking a head to the blighted man underneath him. ]
Get him somewhere safe. He'll need help when he comes to.
[ rearrangement of priorities: there's something wrong with the snow (there's only one thing wrong with kenos right now, or one very salient thing), and they all need to get out of it. vash especially, the blight-stricken man, especially. the latter should be dealt while it's still possible. if vash is physically capable, and he should be, he can do that. and cassian will —
no subject
in fact he barely seems like he's heard them. there's a tinge of exasperation, impatience, that touches his expression, but that's all there is. of course he won't apologize. of course he won't say how many knives he has. and he has no interest in killing the infected man now that he's incapacitated, no longer an active threat to either the young man from earlier or vash now. in fact, he glances back in the direction of the medical center briefly, wondering if they should take him back there. or — somewhere.
but then something cool touches his skin, then another, then another. the clouds above finally making good on the promise of snow from before with flurries beginning in earnest. cassian glances upwards, the flakes starting to collect on his gloves, his sleeves, melting into the exposed skin of his wrists and face and into his hair. he shivers.
then his next breath is a sharp inhale, every line of his body seeming to tense. he swallows, then he looks to vash, jerking a head to the blighted man underneath him. ]
Get him somewhere safe. He'll need help when he comes to.
[ rearrangement of priorities: there's something wrong with the snow (there's only one thing wrong with kenos right now, or one very salient thing), and they all need to get out of it. vash especially, the blight-stricken man, especially. the latter should be dealt while it's still possible. if vash is physically capable, and he should be, he can do that. and cassian will —
well, don't worry about it. ]