[ divine being, huh. still giving her so much credit...
it's a tall order, but still, choi closes his eyes to consider the explanation for a long moment. what are the pieces in this puzzle? what are their clues so far? the moon, the fungus, the something else living inside them. there are changes, and connections, and a twisted kind of "love".
...
he probably can't offer so much here and now. this, it'll have to be more of a long-term project, but, hmm... does subaru want to talk about his thoughts so far? ]
You're right, I'm sorry. We never came to a conclusion on her nature.
[ And how could they, really? Contamination is just as viable of a theory as the will of a new god, though there's a slender holding around his heart where doubt curls in alluring shapes. Where hurt has been transmuted into hope, or something like it — this is not a dream and yet a dead man walks, so very alive. (And causing problems...)
Silent a moment, his motions slow. His hand moves from his side to the plane of his neck. Is he still scarred, he wonders? Beneath the fur. ]
Did you give anything in the cathedral, Agent Choi?
subaru will find that the fur does indeed thin where it should be thickest, sparser where it's wrapped around his neck. let his fingers sink in too deep and he'll brush against a line of still tender skin, warranting the tiger to lift and shake its head briefly in an attempt to redirect his attention elsewhere. for good measure, he'll roll his body too, shifting restlessly so that he lays on his side instead of his back.
as for the question, a silence stretches across the tether. in the place of thoughts or words, a tangle of complicated emotions rise up like the tide before they're slowly reigned back in. at the forefront of them: regret.
[ His touch doesn't overstay its welcome when shaken off, slender fingers curling as he lifts them away again. Eventually, his palm settles again, still against the powerful jut of his shoulder blade. As if to anchor some of his restlessness instead, the weight of his soul much more formidable than that of his body. Somewhere in the tether, the complicated feelings intersect with his own, though Subaru doesn't exactly bid for anything deeper than that. ]
You don't have to tell me what it was.
[ Subaru is well-acquainted with regret. ]
I'm certain I offered something. If nothing more than to satisfy my own curiosity. But... [ His words measure, light and simultaneously slow. ] I can't remember what it was.
[ hmm... even without the prying though, there's no need for it, is there? subaru has already caught a glimpse of it, and there's probably not any point in hiding that fact now. he's not someone that choi needs to hide that from.
there is, however, something else that causes the agent's heart to prickle as he says it.
he doesn't remember... and choi feels curiosity, concern and something that stings around the edges—a kind of discontentment. not for subaru, but perhaps for his loss. ]
[ It's instant, the way that the tether saturates with his calm. Emotions run in tandem, pushing and pulling the light like the revolutions of the moon. ]
It's alright. Because I can't recall it, it must have been a memory. But I don't feel any different.
[ There doesn't seem to be anything inherently wrong about him, or something so off that others might notice. Whatever it was, it must've been important enough to sate her, but not enough to fundamentally alter who Subaru is. It stands to reason — he's given up much, in his life. ]
[ even against the current of the calm that washes over him, agent choi can't make himself alright with it. doesn't particularly want to try. he still remembers what subaru said, after all: one group undergoes changes of the body, and the other undergoes changes of the soul. fundamentally, this feels much the same.
they've both lost something about themselves.
the tiger grumbles, dissatisfied, and pins its ears back for just a moment to show its displeasure.
he guesses sleep won't be satisfied with them doing things in halves. ]
[ Distaste wells in his throat, but it's not his own. Bits and pieces of himself should be harder to parcel up and give away. But that's how it's always been — his heart beneath the cherry blossom tree, his soul in the stars. One eye and both lungs cloudy. Carefully, Subaru's next pass over Agent Choi's folded ears is closer to the way he'd carded his fingers through his hair when he was trying to coax him to rest. He knows it's difficult to bear; he doesn't pretend otherwise. He respects him too much.
If it's within his power to press humanity back into this strange outline Sleep has made of him, he will. ]
[ it's not that he doesn't understand. a nameless man should, at least, but still... maybe it's the fact that this time, it was sleep. it tastes bitter.
but the feeling reaches its peak, subsiding shortly after. not dismissed but at least properly felt and conveyed, he can set it aside in favour of what subaru has to say.
as that gentle hand caresses his fur, the tiger's eyes close. rather than flatten, this time its ears swivel, listening attentively. ]
[ Meeting his gaze, it really is remarkable how much his eyes have remained the same. ]
He's not divine. He's godlike, but not a god. Sleep... is beyond my capability right now, unless she can be asked directly.
[ But it's interesting, isn't it? A "god" entwined with a being who is not a god, but bears similarities to one. A beast, a force of nature, and the magic tethered to them...
[ it's food for thought, certainly, but in such a way that it only seems to pave the way to more questions. agent choi's mind turns, the gears spinning as information is memorized and stored carefully away for safekeeping until need of it might arise. but, for now? he'll resist the temptation to interrogate that scrap right down until only bone is left.
instead, he decides to build on what subaru has to offer him, the question carried across their tether by a genuine curiosity: does he think that she will answer honestly, if asked directly?
She may not know. There might be nothing to know at all. The only way to find out is to ask.
[ A hesitation lingers briefly on the tail end of his statement, more felt than heard. It's a rarity for someone so sure like he typically is. Subaru's hands still and he rests them on Choi's side thoughtfully for a moment. ]
There's just something I owe her.
[ It sounds simple, but even if he doesn't elaborate further, the tether saturates with it. It's terribly precious to him, whatever it is. His want for knowledge, for now, doesn't outweigh it. ]
it doesn't sound like a small one by any mean, and thinking about it, choi's mouth feels dry. the tiger in subaru's lap snorts, but he's careful in what he shares with the tether—only a simple understanding comes through. message received.
...
a moment passes, and as if making its decision, the tiger pulls itself up to its feet in an abrupt motion. where its paws might step, it seems careful not to place too much of its weight—tentative, as if testing its footing, before it manages to manoeuvre itself to face subaru properly, body resting in the spot next to him rather than on him.
after a moment of peering at him, blinking, it lowers its head slightly, eyes remaining fixed on subaru's all the while. it seems to be expecting something. ]
[ Allowing him to get up and switch positions, the absence of his weight prominent in the moment that it rises, Subaru can't help but feel — alarm. Soft, brief, echoing upwards from some buried part of him just enough to break free and run through their tether.
Message received?
He wants to ask him what he means by that. But he also thinks he knows, even if only a little. ]
...I don't really have the right to tell you what to do, [ Subaru starts, his thoughts slow to manifest as words. ] But...
[ He reaches out, taking his head in his hands. ]
Don't do anything so reckless that there's no way for you to take it back.
[ for a moment, the animal simply blinks up at subaru, as if listening patiently for more.
...
give it a moment though, and it will close its eyes, nuzzling its face against his hand and up his wrist. it huffs and chuffs as it does so, and if subaru humors it enough, it will try to rub its cheeks up against his too, stepping back into his lap to get closer. surely this is justified if you don't have better means to show friendliness and affection, right?
behind it, its thick tail is raised high, curled at the tip. the tether between them remains wordless, but filling it instead is a great sense of affection—and confidence.
so maybe subaru can forgive him for not accepting his terms as a proper promise. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
it's a tall order, but still, choi closes his eyes to consider the explanation for a long moment. what are the pieces in this puzzle? what are their clues so far? the moon, the fungus, the something else living inside them. there are changes, and connections, and a twisted kind of "love".
...
he probably can't offer so much here and now. this, it'll have to be more of a long-term project, but, hmm... does subaru want to talk about his thoughts so far? ]
no subject
You're right, I'm sorry. We never came to a conclusion on her nature.
[ And how could they, really? Contamination is just as viable of a theory as the will of a new god, though there's a slender holding around his heart where doubt curls in alluring shapes. Where hurt has been transmuted into hope, or something like it — this is not a dream and yet a dead man walks, so very alive. (And causing problems...)
Silent a moment, his motions slow. His hand moves from his side to the plane of his neck. Is he still scarred, he wonders? Beneath the fur. ]
Did you give anything in the cathedral, Agent Choi?
no subject
subaru will find that the fur does indeed thin where it should be thickest, sparser where it's wrapped around his neck. let his fingers sink in too deep and he'll brush against a line of still tender skin, warranting the tiger to lift and shake its head briefly in an attempt to redirect his attention elsewhere. for good measure, he'll roll his body too, shifting restlessly so that he lays on his side instead of his back.
as for the question, a silence stretches across the tether. in the place of thoughts or words, a tangle of complicated emotions rise up like the tide before they're slowly reigned back in. at the forefront of them: regret.
he did give something, but not willingly. ]
no subject
You don't have to tell me what it was.
[ Subaru is well-acquainted with regret. ]
I'm certain I offered something. If nothing more than to satisfy my own curiosity. But... [ His words measure, light and simultaneously slow. ] I can't remember what it was.
no subject
there is, however, something else that causes the agent's heart to prickle as he says it.
he doesn't remember... and choi feels curiosity, concern and something that stings around the edges—a kind of discontentment. not for subaru, but perhaps for his loss. ]
no subject
It's alright. Because I can't recall it, it must have been a memory. But I don't feel any different.
[ There doesn't seem to be anything inherently wrong about him, or something so off that others might notice. Whatever it was, it must've been important enough to sate her, but not enough to fundamentally alter who Subaru is. It stands to reason — he's given up much, in his life. ]
Gaining insight that way hit a dead end for me.
no subject
they've both lost something about themselves.
the tiger grumbles, dissatisfied, and pins its ears back for just a moment to show its displeasure.
he guesses sleep won't be satisfied with them doing things in halves. ]
no subject
If it's within his power to press humanity back into this strange outline Sleep has made of him, he will. ]
There was one more thing.
no subject
but the feeling reaches its peak, subsiding shortly after. not dismissed but at least properly felt and conveyed, he can set it aside in favour of what subaru has to say.
as that gentle hand caresses his fur, the tiger's eyes close. rather than flatten, this time its ears swivel, listening attentively. ]
no subject
I scried One's blood.
no subject
choi lifts his head sharply, peering up at subaru with large, expectant blue eyes. ]
no subject
He's not divine. He's godlike, but not a god. Sleep... is beyond my capability right now, unless she can be asked directly.
[ But it's interesting, isn't it? A "god" entwined with a being who is not a god, but bears similarities to one. A beast, a force of nature, and the magic tethered to them...
It's been on his mind. That's all. ]
no subject
instead, he decides to build on what subaru has to offer him, the question carried across their tether by a genuine curiosity: does he think that she will answer honestly, if asked directly?
... does he think she knows the answer herself? ]
no subject
She may not know. There might be nothing to know at all. The only way to find out is to ask.
[ A hesitation lingers briefly on the tail end of his statement, more felt than heard. It's a rarity for someone so sure like he typically is. Subaru's hands still and he rests them on Choi's side thoughtfully for a moment. ]
There's just something I owe her.
[ It sounds simple, but even if he doesn't elaborate further, the tether saturates with it. It's terribly precious to him, whatever it is. His want for knowledge, for now, doesn't outweigh it. ]
no subject
it doesn't sound like a small one by any mean, and thinking about it, choi's mouth feels dry. the tiger in subaru's lap snorts, but he's careful in what he shares with the tether—only a simple understanding comes through. message received.
...
a moment passes, and as if making its decision, the tiger pulls itself up to its feet in an abrupt motion. where its paws might step, it seems careful not to place too much of its weight—tentative, as if testing its footing, before it manages to manoeuvre itself to face subaru properly, body resting in the spot next to him rather than on him.
after a moment of peering at him, blinking, it lowers its head slightly, eyes remaining fixed on subaru's all the while. it seems to be expecting something. ]
no subject
Message received?
He wants to ask him what he means by that. But he also thinks he knows, even if only a little. ]
...I don't really have the right to tell you what to do, [ Subaru starts, his thoughts slow to manifest as words. ] But...
[ He reaches out, taking his head in his hands. ]
Don't do anything so reckless that there's no way for you to take it back.
no subject
...
give it a moment though, and it will close its eyes, nuzzling its face against his hand and up his wrist. it huffs and chuffs as it does so, and if subaru humors it enough, it will try to rub its cheeks up against his too, stepping back into his lap to get closer. surely this is justified if you don't have better means to show friendliness and affection, right?
behind it, its thick tail is raised high, curled at the tip. the tether between them remains wordless, but filling it instead is a great sense of affection—and confidence.
so maybe subaru can forgive him for not accepting his terms as a proper promise. ]