[A pitifully human reflex, to take the closeness of any body, the touch of any hand as an anchor of comfort, and even conscious awareness of it has the same effect, drawing focus away from the importance of all Leander's severed, blazing nerves. He'd have rejected the bottle for this same reason. (He'd have died without their bodies, their hands.) Nevertheless, his thoughts crawl along their limbs, into branches, into necessary plans.
What's left to preserve? The line drawn down his breastbone, nearly identical to Ilias's own scar—the sight of it new again, running fresh, is what crumpled him so suddenly—and the contents of his own journal, reverently curated. The Speaker's modest collection of personal effects, ultimately meaningless, should be sent back to the Maker along with the rest of him. The phylacteries: important, so important, more symbolic than a marriage vow. To think the one he made himself can never be revived—
Interrupting himself, strained, desperate,]
How many more?
[The people Ilias knew. Sidony, his discarded apprentice; whatever unease may have grown between them no longer matters. Kostos won't want the attention, but it isn't up to him. Casimir... wherever he is... Isaac. Whose hand cradles the back of his skull.]
no subject
What's left to preserve? The line drawn down his breastbone, nearly identical to Ilias's own scar—the sight of it new again, running fresh, is what crumpled him so suddenly—and the contents of his own journal, reverently curated. The Speaker's modest collection of personal effects, ultimately meaningless, should be sent back to the Maker along with the rest of him. The phylacteries: important, so important, more symbolic than a marriage vow. To think the one he made himself can never be revived—
Interrupting himself, strained, desperate,]
How many more?
[The people Ilias knew. Sidony, his discarded apprentice; whatever unease may have grown between them no longer matters. Kostos won't want the attention, but it isn't up to him. Casimir... wherever he is...
Isaac. Whose hand cradles the back of his skull.]
Bandage me up, we'll do the rest later—