[ He just says it aloud in disbelief. How could she be seeing something so different? ]
What about... [ He gestures to what he returned here to look at in the first place: a small massage room, now in cinders, home to the odd passageway they'd found earlier. ] Is there anything odd there?
[ He taps his arm, heart racing. What is he missing here? ]
In that case... Flayn. It is garish that I have to ask, but...
[ He unearths a few, crumpled flowers from his overcoat pocket. ]
Do you recall seeing these at all? I wonder— [ Another pause, his eyes squeezed shut. ] I wonder if they did not have a hand to play in your death, somehow.
[ He reaches out, ignoring the fact that he can't actually touch her, enough that his hand phases atop hers. ]
It is all right. You are doing all that you can. I spoke to another ghost, one before you... he seemed to indicate that he was prevented from speaking. You may be affected in ways we cannot see.
[ He does his best to reassure her, but he can't let the questions rest. If she can't answer that one, then... ]
But I suppose that means you don't recall if you shared a meal with anyone earlier this week. Before you fell ill.
[Flayn looks up at him as his hand phases through hers, and for the first time tonight, her smile meets her eyes. She looks at their hands for a moment before looking up to his face, then returns her attention to point at the letters once more.]
[ He reaches out as she fades, hand snatching for her sleeve like it might hold her in this place, bring her back—but of course, it doesn't.
She's gone, again. In a way, she'd never been there at all.
...But what could they do to a spirit? Ghosts are already endless in their suffering. His eyes steel over as he pushes himself up onto his feet, ash and dirt on his shins.
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fishingforcompliments) wrote2020-05-01 06:34 pm
no subject
[ He just says it aloud in disbelief. How could she be seeing something so different? ]
What about... [ He gestures to what he returned here to look at in the first place: a small massage room, now in cinders, home to the odd passageway they'd found earlier. ] Is there anything odd there?
no subject
Wakawaka...
[Flayn wrinkles her nose at the sound of her own voice, then shakes her head again. No. Nothing odd.]
no subject
In that case... Flayn. It is garish that I have to ask, but...
[ He unearths a few, crumpled flowers from his overcoat pocket. ]
Do you recall seeing these at all? I wonder— [ Another pause, his eyes squeezed shut. ] I wonder if they did not have a hand to play in your death, somehow.
no subject
Flayn stares at them for a good long while, her brow furrowing as she takes in the sight of them. Her gaze lingers first on one, then on the other.
Has she seen those before?
Where...?
Eventually, her shoulders slump, and she looks back down at the alphabet he's written out.]
I-C-A-N-N-O-T-R-E-C-A-L-L
no subject
It is all right. You are doing all that you can. I spoke to another ghost, one before you... he seemed to indicate that he was prevented from speaking. You may be affected in ways we cannot see.
[ He does his best to reassure her, but he can't let the questions rest. If she can't answer that one, then... ]
But I suppose that means you don't recall if you shared a meal with anyone earlier this week. Before you fell ill.
1/2
2/2
Her form flickers, and she vanishes from view.]
no subject
She's gone, again. In a way, she'd never been there at all.
...But what could they do to a spirit? Ghosts are already endless in their suffering. His eyes steel over as he pushes himself up onto his feet, ash and dirt on his shins.
He'd free her. No matter what. ]