I asked to learn. Be pretty stupid not to pay attention after that.
[ He's turning them over in his hands, the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes emphasized as he squints, searches for any discrepancy between the two. Would continue the inspection if not for the hand on his cheek very purposefully drawing him up and away.
The touching is still strange, the frequency and the softness of it without an aim to drop their clothes (not right now, at least) but Rafe once again writes it off to the difference in time, in world, in the everything odd and mismatched between them. A short sigh through his nose is all the response he wants to give, but she is the teacher. She knows what he doesn't. The question warrants an answer, and so he will. ]
Sleep isn't that great a gauge around here, [ he points out. The constant dark fucks with that something fierce, no matter how one sticks to routine. As for the rest, he shrugs. ] And I'm pretty sure "mortal" is out the window given the current setup.
[ Okay, so she's the teacher. Still doesn't mean he's about to start wringing his hands over a possible drawback that hasn't cropped up yet. ]
⟪ it's the non-verbal answer, the sigh that could be seen as derisive, even, at her show of concern that gets her. he is of course entirely in the right: most of these potential changes have been made absurd by their communal death. there is another thing to be learned here, though: for one reason or another, the idea that someone might simply wish to spare him pain, however inconsequential that pain might be, seems to be somewhere between entirely foreign or, at least, not common enough for him to consider it now. ⟫
It's early days still. ⟪ her tone is light, light as her touch when she withdraws her hands. ⟫ The darkness of this place is an asset to the Art, much like the Shadow of Asshai would be. I suspect you could even finish your training here without the poison rite.
⟪ but there they are again – would he really spare himself that? ⟫
In the end... What I am attempting to do is to not take the choice from you. I didn't have one, and all the shadows have done to me I have turned to my favour. But for you, they can be choices still. ⟪ these freedoms shouldn't be underestimated. ⟫
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no subject
I asked to learn. Be pretty stupid not to pay attention after that.
[ He's turning them over in his hands, the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes emphasized as he squints, searches for any discrepancy between the two. Would continue the inspection if not for the hand on his cheek very purposefully drawing him up and away.
The touching is still strange, the frequency and the softness of it without an aim to drop their clothes (not right now, at least) but Rafe once again writes it off to the difference in time, in world, in the everything odd and mismatched between them. A short sigh through his nose is all the response he wants to give, but she is the teacher. She knows what he doesn't. The question warrants an answer, and so he will. ]
Sleep isn't that great a gauge around here, [ he points out. The constant dark fucks with that something fierce, no matter how one sticks to routine. As for the rest, he shrugs. ] And I'm pretty sure "mortal" is out the window given the current setup.
[ Okay, so she's the teacher. Still doesn't mean he's about to start wringing his hands over a possible drawback that hasn't cropped up yet. ]
But no. I haven't noticed anything.
no subject
It's early days still. ⟪ her tone is light, light as her touch when she withdraws her hands. ⟫ The darkness of this place is an asset to the Art, much like the Shadow of Asshai would be. I suspect you could even finish your training here without the poison rite.
⟪ but there they are again – would he really spare himself that? ⟫
In the end... What I am attempting to do is to not take the choice from you. I didn't have one, and all the shadows have done to me I have turned to my favour. But for you, they can be choices still. ⟪ these freedoms shouldn't be underestimated. ⟫