He felt fingers close on his own again, and he realized—vaguely, distantly—that had it been anyone else, he likely would've shrugged them off. Set his shoulders, turned his back. Rory was a private creature, one who seldom gave in to public displays of emotion; he kept his thoughts close, his heart closer, and denied most a glimpse into his mind.
But an outburst was characteristic for him; he was mellow, until he just .. wasn't. There was very little buildup to his anger, no prolonged time of irritation. His fuse was long but once he lit up, boy, did he burn bright and fast.
And Jigano .. was being too damn good to him. Had Rory had mobile ears he would've turned them back, flat, a form of rejection of his assurance, and only briefly did his gaze flicker to meet Jigano's. He felt unworthy of such a kindness, and still a little embarrassed about the outburst. Why would anyone want to listen to the rants of an Abandoned, anyway? "Stop being so bloody good," he muttered, though without any anger in his voice; if anything, there was a note of appreciation in it. A smile, one he did not quite want to let out, twitched and crawled its way along his mouth—and he couldn't stop himself from reaching out, wincing slightly as he pulled on his muscles again, and moving the straying lock of white hair behind the fox ear.
Then Jigano relayed what he knew, or rather, that he knew something, but not precisely what. Rory ran his tongue along the back of his teeth. "They were not Abandoned," he interjected, rather gently, but sensing what was, perhaps, a gap in Jigano's knowledge of his world. "If anything, they were collateral damage, or ... perhaps they were all magic souls, three hundred years ago?" He shrugged. "Regardless, only those with magic are Abandoned. It refers to how the Gods chose to deal with us after..whatever it was. They Abandoned us. Accepted, Attuned, Ascended, Outlanders—you are not Abandoned. Perhaps it feels that way, but you do not know the silence of the Gods as we do." Despite the subject, his voice was mellow again, something sad lingering among the words. "Being Abandoned is not hereditary. We are born to parents of all kinds, and our children are not necessarily Abandoned too. But that's how it is, you are either born Accepted or you are born Abandoned. And if it's the latter... well, tough luck."
The word mage was curious, archaic somehow to Rory; he knew that it, broadly, meant a magic-wielder, but it was not one he thought anyone within Caido used. Why would they? Being Abandoned was bad enough in and of itself. No reason to flaunt it. "Oh," he finally said, again feeling oddly self-conscious at Jigano's confession. Healing magic was something he envied others of, but so far, it did not seem to come to him. "I, uh... Well. Remi is.. somehow both? He can use our magic, yet he can also shapeshift. But.. mh. What else could you do, back in..in your world?" The curiosity in his eyes, in his voice, was genuine, as he canted his head to look up at Jigano.
But an outburst was characteristic for him; he was mellow, until he just .. wasn't. There was very little buildup to his anger, no prolonged time of irritation. His fuse was long but once he lit up, boy, did he burn bright and fast.
And Jigano .. was being too damn good to him. Had Rory had mobile ears he would've turned them back, flat, a form of rejection of his assurance, and only briefly did his gaze flicker to meet Jigano's. He felt unworthy of such a kindness, and still a little embarrassed about the outburst. Why would anyone want to listen to the rants of an Abandoned, anyway? "Stop being so bloody good," he muttered, though without any anger in his voice; if anything, there was a note of appreciation in it. A smile, one he did not quite want to let out, twitched and crawled its way along his mouth—and he couldn't stop himself from reaching out, wincing slightly as he pulled on his muscles again, and moving the straying lock of white hair behind the fox ear.
Then Jigano relayed what he knew, or rather, that he knew something, but not precisely what. Rory ran his tongue along the back of his teeth. "They were not Abandoned," he interjected, rather gently, but sensing what was, perhaps, a gap in Jigano's knowledge of his world. "If anything, they were collateral damage, or ... perhaps they were all magic souls, three hundred years ago?" He shrugged. "Regardless, only those with magic are Abandoned. It refers to how the Gods chose to deal with us after..whatever it was. They Abandoned us. Accepted, Attuned, Ascended, Outlanders—you are not Abandoned. Perhaps it feels that way, but you do not know the silence of the Gods as we do." Despite the subject, his voice was mellow again, something sad lingering among the words. "Being Abandoned is not hereditary. We are born to parents of all kinds, and our children are not necessarily Abandoned too. But that's how it is, you are either born Accepted or you are born Abandoned. And if it's the latter... well, tough luck."
The word mage was curious, archaic somehow to Rory; he knew that it, broadly, meant a magic-wielder, but it was not one he thought anyone within Caido used. Why would they? Being Abandoned was bad enough in and of itself. No reason to flaunt it. "Oh," he finally said, again feeling oddly self-conscious at Jigano's confession. Healing magic was something he envied others of, but so far, it did not seem to come to him. "I, uh... Well. Remi is.. somehow both? He can use our magic, yet he can also shapeshift. But.. mh. What else could you do, back in..in your world?" The curiosity in his eyes, in his voice, was genuine, as he canted his head to look up at Jigano.
