[ Good point, though Gen would rather die than admit it. A small part of him can't help but being charmed and a little impressed by that fire that Set holds -- the boldness he displays in mouthing off even when the safety of what he holds dear hangs in the balance. The sort of fire that he quietly wishes he had himself -- because maybe things could have been different, maybe he could have helped Reiji better if he had -- even as he does everything he can to squelch it in this moment.
That concession is the only reason he permits the connection stay open long enough for Set to speak his piece.
( '-- have had enough of people using them to hurt us.' An image flashes just briefly, dragged so violently to the forefront of Gen's mind that Set must be able to see it, if only for a split second. A beautiful woman, all pale hair and soft eyes and a doting smile, along with the phantom sensation of fingers brushing down his throat. But along with her, she brings a blood-curdling, stomach-churning wave of hatred and dread and hurt. ) ]
I told you before, didn't I. [ That image is dragged back into the darkness, like choking back a wave of nausea. Gen grits his words, quietly, past metaphorical clenched teeth; Set must be able to picture how pallid his face is, from the strain in his voice. ] Don't go talking like you know anything about him.
[ And if the note of finality in his words weren't indication enough, maybe what follows will be enough to shut Set up.
Gen's vision, channeled right through to Set. The same cliff, the same dry wind stinging at the skin, the same scent of dirt and cold air that sting against the nose. The same darkness that waits below as one of the jars hurtles off the edge of the cliff, spinning top over bottom as it goes plummeting out of sight.
-- is Set lucid enough to pick up on them? The tiny, tiny hints that suggest that something isn't right. There'd been no sound of pottery gritting against dirt, no thump of a bootsole kicking that precious object over the edge, no whistle of the wind against those curved edges as the jar sailed into oblivion. It's only an image, after all -- a Silent Image that Gen has cast hurtling over the edge of the cliff into the darkness, meant to teach Set a lesson and punish him for presuming to know anything about Reiji.
But whether Set can fight back his distress enough to notice those little hints or not doesn't matter. Gen barely lets the image sink in before slamming the connection between them shut. ]
no subject
That concession is the only reason he permits the connection stay open long enough for Set to speak his piece.
( '-- have had enough of people using them to hurt us.' An image flashes just briefly, dragged so violently to the forefront of Gen's mind that Set must be able to see it, if only for a split second. A beautiful woman, all pale hair and soft eyes and a doting smile, along with the phantom sensation of fingers brushing down his throat. But along with her, she brings a blood-curdling, stomach-churning wave of hatred and dread and hurt. ) ]
I told you before, didn't I. [ That image is dragged back into the darkness, like choking back a wave of nausea. Gen grits his words, quietly, past metaphorical clenched teeth; Set must be able to picture how pallid his face is, from the strain in his voice. ] Don't go talking like you know anything about him.
[ And if the note of finality in his words weren't indication enough, maybe what follows will be enough to shut Set up.
Gen's vision, channeled right through to Set. The same cliff, the same dry wind stinging at the skin, the same scent of dirt and cold air that sting against the nose. The same darkness that waits below as one of the jars hurtles off the edge of the cliff, spinning top over bottom as it goes plummeting out of sight.
-- is Set lucid enough to pick up on them? The tiny, tiny hints that suggest that something isn't right. There'd been no sound of pottery gritting against dirt, no thump of a bootsole kicking that precious object over the edge, no whistle of the wind against those curved edges as the jar sailed into oblivion. It's only an image, after all -- a Silent Image that Gen has cast hurtling over the edge of the cliff into the darkness, meant to teach Set a lesson and punish him for presuming to know anything about Reiji.
But whether Set can fight back his distress enough to notice those little hints or not doesn't matter. Gen barely lets the image sink in before slamming the connection between them shut. ]