Even stranger to happen without waking to one of your faces...
[ to wake up alone, he'd sat up, thought himself in that dark hell he found himself in once before. he just sort of makes a face at vax being avoidant about it all. ]
Vax.
What's the last thing you remember? [ his voice is tight, pressed. i won't accept a lie. stop dancing around it. ]
[ he frowns, mouth pulling tight, and then says: ] Being dead.
[ it is a lie, but it's - not. it isn't, at the same time. he was, after all, dead. and how many times has vax died over their little journey? he's had to be resurrected too, once even not that long after percy.
it's a safer answer.
(right now, he's a coward. maybe he'll always be a coward; even when it felt like he accepted it, now that he's having to face the entire conversation again, vax shies away.) ]
[ percy sits in that for a long while, the stillness of the two of them considering their words will never cease to feel like the weight of unyielding stone. he takes a long moment, watching the way vax's mouth moves not unlike his sister's, that telltale twitch of a secret. ]
We have some wretched luck, don't we, Vax...
[ something unspoken, quiet. do not lie to me. but knowing he'll need to do more than to simply ask outright. of course he'll need to do more. there's no one to press either of them for their secrets, to needle them to out it as a group. instead, they're both fists clutching tightly to their secrets. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ to wake up alone, he'd sat up, thought himself in that dark hell he found himself in once before. he just sort of makes a face at vax being avoidant about it all. ]
Vax.
What's the last thing you remember? [ his voice is tight, pressed. i won't accept a lie. stop dancing around it. ]
no subject
[ it is a lie, but it's - not. it isn't, at the same time. he was, after all, dead. and how many times has vax died over their little journey? he's had to be resurrected too, once even not that long after percy.
it's a safer answer.
(right now, he's a coward. maybe he'll always be a coward; even when it felt like he accepted it, now that he's having to face the entire conversation again, vax shies away.) ]
no subject
We have some wretched luck, don't we, Vax...
[ something unspoken, quiet. do not lie to me. but knowing he'll need to do more than to simply ask outright. of course he'll need to do more. there's no one to press either of them for their secrets, to needle them to out it as a group. instead, they're both fists clutching tightly to their secrets. ]