unsurprising: they're a large group of people for a limited amount of space, locked underground with no exits and the tension only growing. unsurprising: they've spent the last weeks dealing with the spreading blight, trying to save places and people, beginning to succumb themselves, only to be ripped out of, back into, time. only to find everyone besides them lost, everything empty. the effigy of the oracle watches them as surely as it's caged them, for all that it does not speak. cassian finds his eyes darting back to it every so often despite himself, then chastises himself for the weakness.
the physical proximity is one thing; the mental proximity, another. they're all vulnerable and exposed to one another, the lines between one another blurred and blurring. cassian has built a life on making himself hard to read, built a career on his ability to deceive, and the openness grates at him. he isn't alone in this, he knows. of course he isn't.
the connection is strongest of all with his fellow iconoclasts. isn't it always? but now it's something else, something impossible to turn away from, as much as he tries. he's met hayame in person once before, spoken with her over communion another. he's respected everything he's seen, whether or not he's always liked it. her feelings are strong, loud, and parts of them resonate with his despite himself. the frustration, the anger. deeper things, too. a bone-deep understanding of an unfair world, of being powerless within it, the ripples of familiarity to this situation now.
finally, he draws his shard from its hiding place, carefully, and reaches out through communion. ]
Hey. Any change in the Oracle?
[ doubtful, but he saw her staring at it earlier. if anyone would know... ]
hayame
unsurprising: they're a large group of people for a limited amount of space, locked underground with no exits and the tension only growing. unsurprising: they've spent the last weeks dealing with the spreading blight, trying to save places and people, beginning to succumb themselves, only to be ripped out of, back into, time. only to find everyone besides them lost, everything empty. the effigy of the oracle watches them as surely as it's caged them, for all that it does not speak. cassian finds his eyes darting back to it every so often despite himself, then chastises himself for the weakness.
the physical proximity is one thing; the mental proximity, another. they're all vulnerable and exposed to one another, the lines between one another blurred and blurring. cassian has built a life on making himself hard to read, built a career on his ability to deceive, and the openness grates at him. he isn't alone in this, he knows. of course he isn't.
the connection is strongest of all with his fellow iconoclasts. isn't it always? but now it's something else, something impossible to turn away from, as much as he tries. he's met hayame in person once before, spoken with her over communion another. he's respected everything he's seen, whether or not he's always liked it. her feelings are strong, loud, and parts of them resonate with his despite himself. the frustration, the anger. deeper things, too. a bone-deep understanding of an unfair world, of being powerless within it, the ripples of familiarity to this situation now.
finally, he draws his shard from its hiding place, carefully, and reaches out through communion. ]
Hey. Any change in the Oracle?
[ doubtful, but he saw her staring at it earlier. if anyone would know... ]