The two of them ate in silence for a while. Akagalcia searching again for words. Rave could even hear some of them from her mind, each syllable urgent, but none of them intelligable. The storm softened after a few moments, then the tension he could feel from her mind grew silent. Akagalcia refilled her mug and scooped another handful of meat and vegetables, plucking again. She almost seemed to be waiting for something, as if paying attention to other things gave her a clearer view of him somehow. [color=SteelBlue]"What precisely happened to you when you were left here to change things so much for you?"[/color] He asked. Just why was she trying so hard to seem as though she was ignoring him? It... ...he could still feel her pain, somehow. It was a sudden realization, and the moment it occured to Rave he found Akagalcia was looking at him intently and nodding. [i]She knew.[/i] It was there, tiny, a part of her even though Rave had closed all foreign thoughts away. It was like running one's fingers through one's own hair in the mirror and finding a single strand of a different color, or crossing each set of fingers together and tracing their tips over one another and feeling as though each was out of place. Tugging at the single strand of hair--the sliver of foreignness in his mind--felt so simple. But pulling only made the strand longer... only caused the sensation to grow... and a single tug seemed to pull on an ocean that crashed into him. Gentle. Impossible to ignore. [table][row] [cell][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-gG5qpmUNJM][img]http://i.imgur.com/KdzywDR.png[/img][/url][/cell][cell][right] [sub][color=Black][b]Memory of The Empty[/b][/color] [@Zarkun][/sub][/right][/cell] [/row][/table] He smelled burning flesh and rose-stink and cold metal. Rave tried to open his eyes, and slivers of light pierced the darkness. He tried again, and there was an audible 'pop' as his eyelids shot open, crust falling across his cheeks. These were the first sights and sensations, and they came into his consciousness as though he had never seen or felt or heard anything before. His cheeks must've been burned terribly for fairy dust to feel so coarse. His ears [i]had[/i] to be recently damaged somehow for the tiny scraps to make such a racket. He was lying flat on his back looking up at pure blackness... but there was a light to it. It was the brightest black that black could be... but it was [i]only[/i] black. He made to reach his hand, but just the impression of trying to move sent agony through his body. Reflexively, as though the pain was coming from outside, he curled into a fetal position, bringing his knees to eye level... his burned, scraped knees. Every single part of him felt as though it had been split open somehow. He shook his head and closed his eyes, fighting a sudden overpowering urge to wretch from the pain... and nothing was there. He was empty. It was so hard to remember... what wretching was. He opened his eyes, looking at the skin on his knees... perfect... untouched. But why did everything hurt so terribly? Whose voice was that? It came from everywhere, like his skin was shouting it, like his eyes were opening up to speak, like the blackness that surrounded him was roaring. The blackness... the black... Guided him? What was the... pulled? And he did wretch, vomiting his serial number tumbling into his lap, jagged script that cut into his skin. It felt so-- [table][row] [cell][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I8k_5CgcOq0][img]http://i.imgur.com/KdzywDR.png[/img][/url][/cell][cell][right] [sub][color=orange][b]Little Athredan - Nova Bar & Grill[/b][/color] [@Zarkun][/sub][/right][/cell] [/row][/table] Rave was sitting in his chair, still chewing on his last bite of burger. He didn't even feel the impulse to hesitate--the need to recover from [i]what[/i] he'd just been. It was as though Akagalcia had left behind comforting thoughts. She had. There were scraps of warmth... raw, and pulled from within. Empty, but supportive. And not a moment had passed between when he had found the strand in his mind and now. He could still feel the strand, even... the little grain of thought. Those warm little cotton thoughts were all mounded into one neat blanket over the strand. They could do nothing to hide it, but at least he didn't feel the pain like some tickling underfoot that he could never scratch. And Akagalcia watched him, chewing on another scrap of food... waiting. "That is... the short version?" it was obviously a question, as though Akagalcia were trying a phrase she'd only just learned about in recent memory.