[Nothing much is growing on the Scorching Isle anymore, but his mark blooms regardless. The flame of less composed irritation that snaps off of Sebastian causes Caren's back molars to clench. Something is biting the inside of her chest, untamed and ill-contained and chewing to be free. And for the first time since arriving in this frozen graveyard, she feels hot.
She knows without a sliver of doubt now that he is beginning to roil, no matter how few cracks show in his composure. Demons really are the same no matter the world. If he intends to kill the Siren out of venting this violent, contained anger, there's no small chance he'll kill her, too.
Don't. She doesn't say it out loud, but Caren leans forward, almost, her hand brought to her torso - and is trapped there again as the Siren's lullaby resumes, frozen mid-flush of blossoming agony.
The hourglass. Even with the statuesque woman dominating the room, the relic catches the eye. The sand. The saying engraved upon it. Caren wills him to look at it, almost forcing the the sensation to commune. She won't be able to move the next time the Siren pauses for breath, but maybe her sand can be used first. To pass it between individuals requires both to be stationary, so perhaps it's the same for the creature's prize.
They really have nothing but time at their disposal here. And if it's the future embodied by this room, then surely there exists a future where they triumph.]
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She knows without a sliver of doubt now that he is beginning to roil, no matter how few cracks show in his composure. Demons really are the same no matter the world. If he intends to kill the Siren out of venting this violent, contained anger, there's no small chance he'll kill her, too.
Don't. She doesn't say it out loud, but Caren leans forward, almost, her hand brought to her torso - and is trapped there again as the Siren's lullaby resumes, frozen mid-flush of blossoming agony.
The hourglass. Even with the statuesque woman dominating the room, the relic catches the eye. The sand. The saying engraved upon it. Caren wills him to look at it, almost forcing the the sensation to commune. She won't be able to move the next time the Siren pauses for breath, but maybe her sand can be used first. To pass it between individuals requires both to be stationary, so perhaps it's the same for the creature's prize.
They really have nothing but time at their disposal here. And if it's the future embodied by this room, then surely there exists a future where they triumph.]