( He agrees, easy enough with that honesty on his part; casting a glance across the tablets, noting phrases, words, no names. Identities have been stripped from what are meant as grave markers. He recognises the shape of them from Taravast, a time and place he spent much attention with the already dead, returning bleached bones to a home they never saw again. )
The heavens may be unknowable, but to understand our own minds, our own memories, can be made the same?
( A grim smile, dark eyes swallowing the scattered light as thunder rolls overhead in a cloudless sky. )
Some might choose that. Most would prefer to choose what they forget.
( Pausing at a half-hidden diagonal away from the open area with its sliding pile of tablets. The vines are closer, reaching, thirsty; they're also browning at the edges, curling toward a swiftening death for no apparent, specific reason. He reaches out, capturing a withering vine as it breaks from higher above his head. The thunder rolls again, only — his head whips around, shoulders following, turning toward Wen Kexing and moving himself as he does: )
no subject
( He agrees, easy enough with that honesty on his part; casting a glance across the tablets, noting phrases, words, no names. Identities have been stripped from what are meant as grave markers. He recognises the shape of them from Taravast, a time and place he spent much attention with the already dead, returning bleached bones to a home they never saw again. )
The heavens may be unknowable, but to understand our own minds, our own memories, can be made the same?
( A grim smile, dark eyes swallowing the scattered light as thunder rolls overhead in a cloudless sky. )
Some might choose that. Most would prefer to choose what they forget.
( Pausing at a half-hidden diagonal away from the open area with its sliding pile of tablets. The vines are closer, reaching, thirsty; they're also browning at the edges, curling toward a swiftening death for no apparent, specific reason. He reaches out, capturing a withering vine as it breaks from higher above his head. The thunder rolls again, only — his head whips around, shoulders following, turning toward Wen Kexing and moving himself as he does: )
The walls are moving! Out!
( No getting trapped in liminal spaces. )