That the Voice wanted nothing to do with him was not surprising; he was an Attuned after all, even though aligning himself with Safrin was perhaps not a conscious choice he had made. But then he mentioned Frey, and Rory found himself laughing in a sort of helpless way. Frey, mischievous, passionate, the enabler and the trickster: the idea of Jigano running across them was... difficult. There was something about his human form, tall, graceful, refined, serious-looking whenever the humor didn't warm his eyes or curve his mouth, that made it difficult for Rory to imagine him in the same room as Frey—or at least under their influence.
And everyone knew what Frey tended to push people towards. That was the second reason imagining Frey and Jigano was difficult. He wasn't ready to touch that, not with the unexpected strings he'd found attached to his heart.
So he just laughed, though it was brief and confused.
But it seemed that whatever Jigano had asked Ludo for was not a light matter. The humor (if it had even been that) faded from Rory, leaving him worried, anxious, holding his breath lest he miss the words Jigano fought so to get past his teeth. But they stuck there, just a push away, and though he wanted to growl just spit it out, man to soothe his own anxiety, all he did was absently rub his fingers against Jigano's.
"Alright," he agreed in a hushed voice, wrestling with his worry; what had Jigano done?
Oh, how easy it would be, to commit mistakes with the Gods of a foreign world...
When Jigano began to talk of the races of his homeworld, it took Rory a while to notice that the fingers he gently held had gone stiff and tense. The names meant little to him, the approximations of his mental images likely widely off-target, and when Jigano caught his gaze and shrugged, Rory just gave his hand a squeeze. Beyond their own races, all of which were deceptively similar in appearance, he knew nothing of other humanoid races.
Kitsune. Rory stored the word somewhere in the back of his mind, freeing his thumb to rub circles on the back of Jigano's hand. He couldn't imagine what it was like to sit and admit to all these things—Rory had it easier. His world was here and now. His world was there for Jigano to experience and touch.
Rory could only trust that what he was told was truth, and accept it for what it was:impossible improbable, daunting, but ultimately, real.
And he felt cold again, stunned by how casually Jigano mentioned being shot at, and as he stared—not unkindly—at the man sitting on his bed he found himself wondering again: what kind of life had he led?
Rory was no stranger to violence, but even he would be offended on a whole new level if someone intentionally shot him.
"I... don't know if that changes things... between us," Jigano said, and though Rory had looked thoughtful, sometimes perplexed, sometimes aghast (like at the mention of being shot), he had never looked horrified.
He didn't then either, but he ended up staring. Like, are you for real with saying that? staring. As if being human mattered. As if being human now mattered.
I fell for you when you were a fox he wanted to say, but the words were too dangerous, too true, and that was how you went through my defenses.
"If I'm appalled at anything, aside from you being shot at it, it's that you think it might matter at all," he finally said, though without bitterness; his voice was mild, as it almost always was. He wanted to reach up for one of those white ears again, but even Rory's dumbness had its limits, and he thought he was probably done abusing his shoulders for the time being.
And everyone knew what Frey tended to push people towards. That was the second reason imagining Frey and Jigano was difficult. He wasn't ready to touch that, not with the unexpected strings he'd found attached to his heart.
So he just laughed, though it was brief and confused.
But it seemed that whatever Jigano had asked Ludo for was not a light matter. The humor (if it had even been that) faded from Rory, leaving him worried, anxious, holding his breath lest he miss the words Jigano fought so to get past his teeth. But they stuck there, just a push away, and though he wanted to growl just spit it out, man to soothe his own anxiety, all he did was absently rub his fingers against Jigano's.
"Alright," he agreed in a hushed voice, wrestling with his worry; what had Jigano done?
Oh, how easy it would be, to commit mistakes with the Gods of a foreign world...
When Jigano began to talk of the races of his homeworld, it took Rory a while to notice that the fingers he gently held had gone stiff and tense. The names meant little to him, the approximations of his mental images likely widely off-target, and when Jigano caught his gaze and shrugged, Rory just gave his hand a squeeze. Beyond their own races, all of which were deceptively similar in appearance, he knew nothing of other humanoid races.
Kitsune. Rory stored the word somewhere in the back of his mind, freeing his thumb to rub circles on the back of Jigano's hand. He couldn't imagine what it was like to sit and admit to all these things—Rory had it easier. His world was here and now. His world was there for Jigano to experience and touch.
Rory could only trust that what he was told was truth, and accept it for what it was:
And he felt cold again, stunned by how casually Jigano mentioned being shot at, and as he stared—not unkindly—at the man sitting on his bed he found himself wondering again: what kind of life had he led?
Rory was no stranger to violence, but even he would be offended on a whole new level if someone intentionally shot him.
"I... don't know if that changes things... between us," Jigano said, and though Rory had looked thoughtful, sometimes perplexed, sometimes aghast (like at the mention of being shot), he had never looked horrified.
He didn't then either, but he ended up staring. Like, are you for real with saying that? staring. As if being human mattered. As if being human now mattered.
I fell for you when you were a fox he wanted to say, but the words were too dangerous, too true, and that was how you went through my defenses.
"If I'm appalled at anything, aside from you being shot at it, it's that you think it might matter at all," he finally said, though without bitterness; his voice was mild, as it almost always was. He wanted to reach up for one of those white ears again, but even Rory's dumbness had its limits, and he thought he was probably done abusing his shoulders for the time being.
