"I did?" he says again. "That... would explain a few things." He lies back down again, as his poor, beleaguered head is starting to spin with the implications of all of this. He could have sworn he'd heard.... Maybe he hadn't.
It hurts....
Maybe it was he, Azwel, who'd said that, then? He is dreadfully sore. How many times had he ridden someone while that machine whirled around them and that device on his head steered his every action? He remembers blood in his nose, though. One hand lazily rubs said nose, feeling that peculiar pull against the skin of something that'd dried there. Sure enough, little flakes of dark red, almost brown, cling to his hand.
His hand goes to his head, next, finding a sore spot right above one of the scar lines. Hmmm. He tries to remember more, or to even push a coherent thought through, at all. Curse this weariness. He lets his eyes fall shut again, but doesn't fall asleep. They flick open again when he hears Vash return.
"What happened?" he asks. "You were there... I know you were there. What'd they do to us?"
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It hurts....
Maybe it was he, Azwel, who'd said that, then? He is dreadfully sore. How many times had he ridden someone while that machine whirled around them and that device on his head steered his every action? He remembers blood in his nose, though. One hand lazily rubs said nose, feeling that peculiar pull against the skin of something that'd dried there. Sure enough, little flakes of dark red, almost brown, cling to his hand.
His hand goes to his head, next, finding a sore spot right above one of the scar lines. Hmmm. He tries to remember more, or to even push a coherent thought through, at all. Curse this weariness. He lets his eyes fall shut again, but doesn't fall asleep. They flick open again when he hears Vash return.
"What happened?" he asks. "You were there... I know you were there. What'd they do to us?"