RORY
If there was something Rory really, really, really wanted to do in that moment, it was find a long, sharp object and hurl it into The only reason he did not respond to her right away—though he had wheeled back to stare blue daggers at her—was because if he opened his mouth, the only thing that would come out of it was a long, inarticulate screech.
The blond Ascended he did not know saved him, reciting Roana's notice to her face in a dispassionate voice.
And perhaps it taught Rory something, too: despite the Ascended having a clear, honest goal of going into the Spire and releasing the Voice, they were not necessarily the enemy (to put it dramatically). They pulled in vastly different directions, but here, in this meeting, they were one and the same. They were Naturals, children of Caido, and slowly, his tongue cooled enough for him to form words with it. "What they said," he merely responded, gesturing tiredly to
But as he invoked the Voice's name, something changed.
Static, like man-made stars, in the vague shape of a humanoid. She crackled into existence, bright and shapeless at first, then .. he did not know how to describe it, how to store it in his memory, that distorted but oddly real vision of a woman who smiled.
But she was not his ally: she baited the Captain with the promise of her homeland, baited his heart with the vague description of a lush outside. He thought of the pain he had seen in Amalia's eyes. He thought of the conviction and ferocity in Evie's voice, a declaration that brooked no arguments.
He thought of Ludo and Safrin and Frey, and how none of them made their will known.
It was just them and the Voice and the silence.
Nothing she said surprised him. He felt heavy and tired with an inevitable defeat he still struggled against. Those who had witnessed the Voice's entrance and heard her words were restless, shifting, uncertain; whispers went like a hush through the mob. Shifting glances towards mouths: who hid sharp fangs within? Somewhere, someone clamored angrily that the Voice was trying to lure 'the Outlander bitch' into the Spire. No Natural would fall for her wiles, no, they knew better—
Rory turned back to Roana. He was tired and empty and aching and absolutely done with her.
"Leave," he simply said, "before we drive you from this place."
He almost wished she'd give him reason to.
[ So this is winding down/wrapping up. The mob will stay (covering the Spire PQs) though over the next few days most sensible people/workers will leave from it, and it'll mostly be Rory and a pack of super pious people and thugs spoiling for a fight left. ]
as if you were on fire from within,
the moon lives in the lining of your skin.
the moon lives in the lining of your skin.
