A Small Glade

[Asila]

((Yep, I had fun with this one. ;D))

Evening allowed Devon to pull her away without the slightest amount of resistance. Though the nobles actions had startled her into dropping the failing shield before it drained her entirely, she still felt very cold and was about as responsive as a sleepwalker. Yet her thoughts were far more active than those of such an individual, and they were agitated.

She just couldn't believe that she had chosen to stand against her uncle for the sake of two humans. While it was true that the difference in race no longer bothered her as it had only hours ago, she still felt as though she had done something that Ant would think exceedingly foolish. In fact, she knew that this would be the case. It was idiotically altruistic for her to risk her life for people that she had just met. What did she even know of them? Very little. For all she knew they were actually as dishonorable as she had originally decided that they must be. She shook her head, dismissing the thought. She was very sure that they were good, but she knew that deciding such a thing so soon after meeting someone was illogical...

She just blinked slowly and continued to shake her head, her thoughts a blurred haze of disbelief and self-annoyance.

****

Foresan had felt the icy bite of horror when Evening had rashly leapt to the defense of the humans who were detaining her. Yet he hadn’t been able to immediately check his attack. He had decided to harm these insignificant individuals for there callousness (or Rojo’s callousness, though to the Tallamous the sin of one human was the shared burden of all) and it was his nature to realize such decisions with a ruthless singularity of mind. It was this trait that had allowed him to survive the ambush on the caravan, for his focus in such circumstances made him a fearful warrior. And it was this same rigid mentality that would have allowed him to kill the girl that he loved as a daughter, were it not for the interference of a mysterious magical being.

He narrowed his eyes as the creature froze his attack, reflexively placing more power behind it…but he had scarcely begun to fight the creature’s counter attack when it stormed down the earthen arms and shot down the thread of magic that connected him to his attack. Snarling, he immediately dropped the attack, severing the connection before the strange being could pierce his mind.

He might have pressed another attack had his surprise not been great enough to dim his rage and make it painfully clear to him that he had nearly killed Evening along with the humans. The shock of horror he had distantly felt earlier returned to him with greater force, and he paced forward to assure himself that she had come to no harm. “Curse it, girl, what were you trying to prove?” He said angrily, towering over her with his arms crossed over his broad chest. He looked for all the world like a stern father who was scolding a disobedient child. His focus lay almost entirely on her as he impatiently awaited her answer, the exception being his tapered ears, which would swivel to track the noises of the humans should they try to retaliate with another attack.

Evening, however, did not answer him. She just stared at her feet, at a loss for words, feeling only ashamed, very small, and incredibly tired. She had reverted automatically to her eleven-year old self, behaving as the girl she had been would have when confronted by the anger of one of her elders.

Foresan kept his sharp gaze on her for a few moments longer, only allowing it to soften when he first noticed something crucial. Evening had hardly grown an inch since he had seen her last, and by now she would have reached maturity. She should be at least half a foot taller and have developed more muscle than her thin frame exhibited. Her mother had stood just below six feet tall and her father had towered at his same height. He placed his hands on her shoulders, capturing her startled gaze when she quickly glanced upward. “What have you done for the past seven years, Evening?” His voice was softer now, but retained all it’s former intensity. “You haven’t been eating properly, have you?”

Evening winced at the question, nervously glancing at Rojo and Devon. She didn’t want them to hear this…it was pathetic. “Uh, can we discuss this later?” She said with a very large and unconvincing smile.

Foresan, of course, was not fooled. He had not missed the glance that she had cast toward the humans. “Why? What could you possibly wish to hide from them? Their opinions hardly matter to us.”

“They matter to me.” This was spoken in a pained whisper. She so badly wanted her uncle’s approval, and knew that this line would deny her that small treasure. Still, it was impossible for her to respond in any other way. She would not lie about this. She would not betray them. Her loyalty made no sense, not even to her, but it was stolid enough that she would be forever disgusted with herself if she chose to ignore it. “Rojo and Devon are…” She trailed off before she could admit it aloud, looking miserable.

Foresan narrowed his eyes. “What, Evening?” He inquired tensely. “What are they to you?” It was clear by his tone of voice that he already suspected the answer and did not approve.

“They’re my…friends” She finished quietly, staring at the ground in such a dejected fashion that any observer may think she had just admitted to a terrible crime. Ant must be so angry with her…

Forsan cursed and stepped away from her, pacing in sporadic, agitated lines as he tried to placate his temper. He looked very angry, and Evening was too upset at his response to say anything more. She just continued to stare at the ground, and Foresan continued his pacing, neither one speaking another word.

[Rojo]

Rojo heard Devon's words like a buzzing noise, gnawing at his eardrums like a fly had flown into his ear. He felt a hand pull him away, he saw a black shape shoot past him and jump into the fists. But all of this was pointless to him. Everything seemed focused on that memory, of the table, and...and...the...heart. He shuddered and sank down where Devon stopped. He closed his eyes. No, he needed to stand up. Get up. His new companions needed him. He stood up. Sound rushed back like a dam had just broken, and instead of water, noise had surged back into the reservior of his mind.

Shadow couldn't hear Nevod's words, he only heard his own silent yelling. He wouldn't let this person harm Rojo, he wouldn't let him harm anyone. Then, just as he was about to break into the Tallamous' mind and turn his brain to a pulp using all the strength he could measure, the spell was dispelled. Shadow fell out of the air, the crackling flickering state over. He didn't move. He felt his strength ebbing away...no. He needed to see Rojo. He needed to know if Rojo was okay. He got up.

Rojo tried to wretch, but all that came was a disturbing croaking noise. He wanted to throw up, he wanted to cry, he wanted to rip open his chest and stab himself until he knew nothing. He wanted to die, he wanted to end, he wanted that memory to go away. No! He had to keep standing! He had to listen! He couldn't stop, not whilst the newcomer left. He clutched his head, turning away. He gave up. He stopped caring. He murmered under his breath. All knowlage left his brain. He didn't know anything. He didn't know who he was, where he was, why he was crouching now, why he was clutching his head, why he was falling, screaming, flying, whispering, laughing, crying all at the same time. He rejected the memory, he rejected everything. Everything went black, and Rojo Rodriguez, knew no more.
((Just to put it in, he's not dead, he's just in a state of...well, not sleep, but it's not unconciousness either. He's...in the balance. Yeah, let's go with that.))

Shadow walked towards to Rojo, his eyes closing every few seconds. Almost falling where he was. When he saw Rojo crouch down, he began to run. He got there just as Rojo fell, hitting the side of the road with a thump. He turned his Lantern over and shook him violently. He wanted to scream, he wanted to yell, he wanted to hit, he wanted to bite, he wanted to kill. But he couldn't. Only him and Rojo existed now. The only two people in all the worlds. He kept shaking him, willing himself not to go to sleep, willing him not to black out. If he did...Her minions would take him. He couldn't. He wouldn't. He would keep shaking Rojo with all his might. All his power. All his life.

[Seven]

Devon watched the reunion with silent curiousity. evening's demeanor had just changed entirely. She lost her fiesty attitude, and looked shy, even frail. It made him suppose that the man before her (who had nearly killed them all) was considerably older than her. He recieved confirmation, but not in the way he had supposed. From what Foresan had said, she apparently hadn't grown over the past several years, meaning she just recently stopped aging, meaning...

The first smal and harmless grin comes to Devon's face, realizing that evening is in fact, not as old as she would have liked them to believe. She is probably only around their age. But what really makes Devon smile are her even meekier words. 'They're my friends...' It was so endearing! If only the frightening Tallamous didn't look down at her so scornfully, some minor teasing might be in order. It seemed very appropriate, considering she was trying to pull of the 'Lone Wolf' persona. Ironic as well, considering that there was not just a species difference, but that just earlier this morning they were enemies. Well, things certainly turned a 180. At this point, Devon really didn't have any concern for the older Tallamous male. Even if the man despised them, what could he do? Devon was in a chipper mood from the various confessions, and when in such a positive mindset, he couldn't help but everything would be fine.

But this was short lived, when he looked back to Rojo to snicker softly and comment, only to find his friend looking pale and wide-eyed. He saw Shadow running to him as Rojo suddenly collapsed. Devon's blinked, jaw falling slightly. "Rojo!" he suddenly exclaimed. What had happened? Had rojo hurt himself? Devon forgot all about the Tallamous, quickly making his way over to the other side of Rojo. nevod, silent and invisible, also goes over to the small group.

The Tallamous would see the strange sight of Rojo being gently shaken by....apparently no one. No one they could see at least. Their ears would more than likely pick up the noises of not just one, but two extra males. Devon looked up at Shadow, though to the others, it would look as though he were speaking to the air. "What is going on Shadow? What do you think is wrong with him?" Devon seriously cursed himself for not taking the healing magic course now, vowing that he'd immediately register for the class as soon as they returned to Maderal. Till then, he had to do things the non-magical way. Devon looked down at his pale friend, taking his wrist to check his pulse.

((So, Rojo wouldn't have a pulse, right? Since he doesn't have a heart? Can he realize this, think he's dead, and freak out?))

[Asila]

Evening turned when she heard Devon call Rojo's name. She should have been able to feel Rojo's anxiety. He was, after all, clearly distressed and she was generally very aware of such things, having potential to become a powerful empath. However, she was easily distracted, and it was difficult to focus through the haze of exhaustion that had settled over her mind. Yet when she saw that Rojo had collapsed her thoughts assembled with a greater degree of clarity. She only worried more when she saw that Rojo was being shaken by a being that she could not see. She thought that he must be having a seizure, since everything that Rojo had told her of the invisible Shadow had escaped her mind.

"Rojo?" She called softly, concerned but still subdued by what had just passed between her and Ant. Timidly she stepped forward, frowning anxiously.

Foresan, however, had not forgotten about the unseen being that had accosted him only minutes before. He immediately stopped Evening with a firm hand on her shoulder, moving so quickly that she had been unable to finish that single step. He had no intention of letting her draw any closer to what he felt was a malignant presence, much like a poltergeist. "Don't move any closer, Evening." He said sternly.

Evening turned to look at him, her concerned expression becoming more pronounced. What was she supposed to do? Rojo seemed to be hurt, but her uncle didn't want her to move any closer, and he was already unhappy with her...

But Foresan noticed her unhappy expression and released her. "Go ahead." He said, resigned. "Do what you must. Just be careful." He hated the idea of allowing her to approach that being that had attacked him, but it seemed neutral to the second human. Chances were that the girl would be just fine. If he could just overlook the unhealthy attatchment that she had formed for them.

Of course, he could never do such a thing, but he could sense that her energy was flagging and decided to let it go. For tonight, at least.

Evening nodded and pulled away from him, moving to stand beside Devon. "Is he all right?" She asked, wondering what she would do if he wasn't. She was sure that Ant knew something of the healing magics, but even he might not be able to help if something was seriously wrong. The Tallamous were not the experts in magic that the Osten were. While powerful in their own right, the magic boasted by her race was usually specialized in one or even two elements. Ant, having a great affinity of earth, did not know nearly so much of other magic though he had lived long enough to learn a slight amount of such things.

Of course, she was assuming that he would be willing to help in the first place, something that seemed unlikely after his initial reaction to them.

Her thoughts continued in this flitting, anxious manner while she waited for Devon's response. Whether or not the noble realized it, he was catching a glimpse of Evenings true demeanor, a persona that even she did not know well anymore. Of course, she'd return to her careless, defiant and spirited self soon enough, but for now she had forgotten just who it was that she was pretending to be.

[Rojo]

Shadow didn't know who was around him. Nor did he care. Nothing mattered. All he could do was shake the man before him, hoping beyond hope he would wake up...
***

"Wake up, you bastard, wake up!" a voice yelled in ROjo's ear. He sat up immediatley. He was on a beach, a warm, sunny beach. He groaned and lay back
"Not here again..." he murmered, annoyed.
"Yes, here, you stupid fool!" Intelligence whittered on "you think you can allow emotions to get in the way? One of the first rules a Hero learns is-"
"Don't let your emotions get in the way..." Rojo finished the sentance for him. He didn't want to open his eyes. Not the beach. Not the beach of his mind.
"Get up, you blithering idiot!" Intelligence squeeled at him, glaring at the almost mirror image of himself on the sand.
A hand came down and pulled Rojo up with suprising ease. He opened his eyes, and before him was his own face. Prehaps a little more ugly face, but a face almost exactly like his. Strength dropped him the extra foot to the ground and grinned, showing broken teeth.
"How oo bin?" he asked
"Er, good, thanks..." Rojo replied raising an eyebrow.
"Goof, goof."
He turned around. Another aspect had appeared. Guile stood infront of Rojo. This time the difference was a larger scale. Wearing black leather, and a mask covered half his face, Rojo's sneakiness, back-stabbingness and allround bastard embodied stood in front of him.
"Er, Hi..." Rojo said, his hand flying immediatly to his belt to check if anything had been stolen, he couldn't tell when up against himself...
"Hi." Replied Guile, gaze not leaving Rojo's face. Intelligence pulled him around again
"What do you think you're doing; blacking out like that! It went all dark! We were terrified!"
"I wer'n'!" butted in Strength, but Guile shushed him.
A widely smiling Rojo with a golden scarf and bright, colourful clothes walked over to them, hands behind back.
"Rojo, my dear, good, friend. I really think your friends need you, I think you should go back." Good smiled widely at Rojo.
"Am I really that much of a unlikeable git when I'm nice?" Rojo asked Intelligence, thumbing at Good. Soon egnough, a ROjo dressed in black plated armour clanked towards them.
"THey don't need you...stay here, and help me overthrow these goody-goody-bastards!"
Rojo sank down, all the copies of himself talking to him at once.
He really hated The Beach Of His Mind.
Well, at least it wasn't The Room Of Memories...
He wasn't going to be waking up for a while.
Not until it went away.
What if Devon tried taking his pulse? That would take some explaining...He really hoped he didn't...

Slowly, Shadow stopped shaking ROjo. He stood up slowly and turned to look at the antlered man. His glare held so much hate and loathing, it was almost as if he was staring into the Tallamous' very soul, every inch of him laid bare, his fears, loves, sins, memories. He wanted to kill that man. No. He couldn't. If he did, he would be dragged away, to be mutilated further than he already was...

[Seven]

Devo registers Evening's presence beside him, though not her change in attitude. He's too distracted for that. Considering that she's come back over beside them, he figures she must have cleared things up with Foresan. It was just a good thing Foresan couldn't see Shadow's dark glare, as that would certainly cause issues again.

"I'm checking his pulse as we speak," Devon says softly to the girl without looking at her. He puts his hand on Rojo's wrist. No signal. 'Maybe I'm doing it wrong...' he thinks to himself, trying again. Still nothing. He obviously flinches, dropping the wrist, this time going straight for the heart. No beating. Devon's eyes widen, slowly pulling away. He trembles a bit, in shock and horror, and goes to speak, but words escape him.

After a moment, he finally stammers out, "He's...he's dead!"

[Asila]

Evening pales when Devon makes his announcement regarding Rojo's condition. The next few moments were those nightmarish ones that seemed to drag out for an impossibly long length of time. Though her heart continued to beat, she could not feel it. Her breath, which had caught in her throat when Devon had announced Rojo dead, had yet to return to her. The world itself seemed an indistinguishable blur of color and she could not think. Even her thoughts had stalled.

In fact, this was exactly how she had felt when she'd watched her family die. This was the what she had felt a moment before her horror had spurred her into a desperate escape.

Yet this was different. There was nothing to run from here. Nothing that could cause her physical harm. Only something terrible that she must accept. And it was her fault that Rojo had died. She should have been able to stop her uncle from attacking them. If only she had reacted sooner. If only she hadn't been blinded to his rage by the joy she had felt upon seeing him. If only she'd been more clever, stronger, braver.

If only Rojo hadn't died.

But she was not clever. Or strong. Or brave. She had allowed fear to cloud her reactions when she had first noticed Ant's fury. She had nearly failed when she'd tried to stop his attack. And she she was so unforgivably foolish that she had been unable to see this coming. It was her fault. Everything was her fault.

A distant memory of another loss. A familiar lament. If only...

She knelt beside Rojo, shoulder to shoulder with Devon now. Her movements were sluggish, her gaze distant and blurred by pending tears. Everything felt so surreal. This couldn't be happening. She reached out with a trembling hand to brush a stray strand of hair from his still form, the gesture vaguely affectionate. A fond farewell.

After a long, pained moment had passed, she retrieved her hand and closed her eyes, saying softly to herself, "I should have been able to stop this." The words were so riddled with guilt that they wavered even more noticeably than her hand had. The first tears leaked from behind closed lids, but she did not notice them. She was no longer aware of anything other than her destructive sense of sorrow and regret.

Even Foresan's gaze softened as he silently watched this small drama unfold. The last traces of his fury were leeched away from him as he observed what this loss had done to Evening. Yet there was nothing he could do to fix it now. No words he could say that would make her feel any less horrible. So he allowed himself to fade into the shadows and wait until the melancholy scene had played itself out.

[Rojo]

Noise...endless noise. THey wouldn'st stop chattering, blithering on like...well, like blithering chitterers. Rojo tried to block it out in vain, and the arguing continued. He sat there, waiting for them to stop...

"SHUT UP!" he yelled at the top of his voice, standing up. Everything fell silent. He wanted to leave this beach, he wanted to go to a calmer place...slowly, the beach began to fade...
"No need to yell..." the foggying form of Intelligence says.

He was somewhere else now. He was in...a courtyard. Large stone walls went up around the sides of it, showing no way out. There was a large tree in the center. It was old, and taller than the walls. In the tree, was a person. The person looked up.
"Hi!" it exclaims holding up an arm and waving its hand vigourosly. Rojo frowned. The person looked...familiar. It was a child, he could guess now, as he was moving closer.

The small boy jumped down from the tree and landed in front of Rojo with a small "oof!"
"Er, hi..."
"Hi!" repeats Rojo
Rojo was confused. Rojo was happy to see himself.
"Wait..."
"Yup!" agrees the other, smaller person, nodding, as if he knew what Rojo was going to say.
"Me?" asked Rojo
"Yes!" said Rojo
Rojo looked at Rojo.
They blinked at the same time.
"Why here?"
"You wanted some place calm...and here you go."
"Where is "here," exactly?"
"Courtyard Of Age," replies the nine-year old Rojo almost immediatly.
There was a pause.
And another pause.
Soon the pausing grew so long, the younger boy inserted a finger into his nose, pulled it out, and examined the contents.
Older Rojo turned away in distaste. Then he thought for a moment...did this mean he could see himself in the future?
He looked around. There was another figure in the courtyard. Another Rojo stepped forward. This one was wearing old battered armour, and had a crude looking sword in his belt.
"Umm..." said the original
"What?" snapped back the other
"Wait...you're me when I fought in the citadel, aren't you?"
"Well done," the reply was sarcastic.
"No need to take that tone with yourself..." the comback was witty
"Whatever...oh, and no, you can't see yourself in the future."
Original Rojo turned away again. A incredibly small Rojo was infront of him; his skin was thin to the bone, and the face was gaunt. He was five years old...it was almost sick, how pale the small boy was. Rojo knelt down, as he appeared to want to talk to himself.
"Yes?"
"Umm...hav' you got 'ny foo'?" asked the small boy, dragging a small fluffy duck behind him. This was the only Rojo he'd seen so far without the red scarf. The original paused. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a small jar. There were strawberries growing in it. He pulled a few out and dropped them into the small boy's hands. The child's eyes widened as he stared at the fruit in amazment. He looked back up at Rojo.
"Wha' are th'y?"
Rojo smiled at the fluffy duck. He remembered that duck...they'd had to sell it so his family could eat; he'd locked himself in the basement for six hours because of it.
"Fruit," he explained "eat up, full of good stuff..."

***

Shadow wanted to cry, but he couldn't. Darklings couldn't cry. He felt...empty. He looked at Devon, and shook his head. He sighed loudly.

[Seven]

Devon hung his head. How could this have happened? Just moments earlier, literally minutes, Rojo was alive and well (to his knowledge, at least). Why hadn't he paid his friend more mind? He should have checked on him sooner. Devon couldn't understand it. He seemed so full of energy and life, he was a seasoned adventurer, surely used to the heat of battle. Devon had just been scolding him for getting into a pointless battle with worgs, and he had shrugged it off like it was nothing...what had happened?

"It's not your fault Evening..." he tried to say comfortingly. But it was hard, being torn between grief for the loss of his new friend and anger. Yes...it wasn't Evening's fault, but there was someone who refused to hear anything they had to say. Someone who had heartlessly continued to attack, even after the one he had meant to 'protect' had jumped in his way. Devon doubted that the man even felt remorse. He refrained from turning to look at him, if only so he wouldn't reveal his hidden anger and make even more of a mess and drama.

Instead, he looked to where Shadow was seated. Poor Shadow. He couldn't imagine what he was going through. Rojo was his lantern, or something. He couldn't quite remember now. "I'm so sorry Shadow...."

nevod lingered quietly in the background as well, silent and out of the way.

[Asila]

Evening only shook her head at Devon's words. Of course it was her fault. She was the one who had let her uncle's anger spin out of control. She understood how he could have misinterpreted the situation so badly, and, had she reacted immediately instead of freezing when she saw the murderous expression he had worn, she would have been able to set the entire thing straight before anyone had gotten hurt.

She was a failure. A liability. By trying to repay Rojo and Devon for their kindness, she had cursed them, condemning the former to death.

She bowed her head, her shocked expression twisting into a grimace of misery as she fought to withstand her own self-hatred. Rojo's death had brought back to her the deaths of her family and the overwhelming sense of loss and grief that she had felt shortly afterward.

Abruptly she stood, hardly able to breath through the torrent of despair that was coursing through her. She paced much as she had seen Ant do earlier, a hand over her mouth to imprison the sobs that threatened to break free, her gaze pained and her eyes still leaking tears. She felt nauseous, and even worse were the memories that were threatening to flood her mind even now. So blood wasn't the only trigger. Tragedy was as well.

This time Foresan stepped forward, unable to watch her suffer like this. But the moment he tried to reach out to her, to comfort her with a quiet embrace, she lashed out at him.

"Don't touch me!" She nearly screamed it. Her expression was so pained and wild that she seemed fierce and half-insane. But when she heard the hysterical tone her voice had taken she froze, even more upset now that she heard how close she had been to losing it. She was so weak. Her expression crumpled and she began to sob, despite her determination not to do so. She was so pathetic...

"Why did you have to attack them?" She gasped through the tears. Though while the question was nearly an accusation, she did not blame her uncle for what had happened. The question was rhetorical, asked in the same tone that many grieving individuals will assume when demanding of their god why terrible things had to happen to good people. And she, like them, did not expect an answer.

[Rojo]

Rojo frowned. Then he ate the strawberries. When he had gulped them down, a look of amazment passed his face. He stared up at his older-self, eyes wide
"Mor'?"
Older Rojo reached into one of his may pockets again and pulled out a jar with pickled onions in it. It was something his younger self should be used to, after all, pickled onions were the only thing his family could afford at the time.
The younger plonked down and carefully opened the jar. Rojo turned away to check for more Rojos in the courtyard.

Alas, none. But instead of the tree was a door, built into the air. He approached it carefully. He couldn't be sure where it would go...
The doorhandle turned rustily, and Rojo stepped through. Ah, he smiled. The room of imagination.

He thought of a chair. A warm one, and as if on cue, a chair materilised in the great white endless room. He sat down in it. Now, was he able to perform magic here?

He tried creating a small ball of fire, but all he got was a small and pathetic "Pfffthbth..." noise. He frowned. He needed to get to the brain...that was where he would reawaken himself.

He imagined a door to his brain. It appeared without hesitation. Rojo stepped through, now in a large purple room. Why were brain rooms always purple? Oh well. He stared at the small handprint on the stone pedastle in the middle of the room, he started to walk towards it...

***

Shadow stopped. If Rojo was dead dead, then he had to ceast to exist! So Rojo was alive! Well, emotionally speaking. He watched as the poor woman and man began to grieve over his death, each acting as if it was their fault. He had to tell them Rojo was fine! Sort of...
Shadow watched as Evening almost screamed at the other Tallamous. He walked up to her and placed a seemingly invisble hand on her shoulder, transmitting warmth and comofort to her. Darklings could do that, as most took a while to learn basic languages, some still spoke through emotions.

[Seven]

((To answer Rojo's question: Obviously brain rooms are always purple because you always think they're going to be purple.

Sorry, couldn't resist.))

Devon remained silent. Silence was his method of grieving. Perhaps it was how he was raised. 'One must always look elegant, even in sorrow. No need to make a commotion.' Or maybe it was just that sorrow was acting as an emotional drain. He didn't have the energy enough to make a fuss or pace and lash out as Evening did.

So Devon ignored whatever passed between Evening and her uncle, and whatever Shadow was up to now. He just remained silent and kneeled. Even his thoughts seemed to have scattered. He was like a blank slab.

[Asila]

The effect that Shadow's transmitted comfort had on the Tallamous girl was immediate. The tears stopped flowing from her eyes, she began to breathe normally, and the tension eased from her frame. She frowned slightly, confused by this sudden change in emotion. While her emotions did shift this suddenly on occasion, there was always a reason. Now she felt comforted, warm, and there was no reason.

Unless...she turned back to Rojo, half expecting him to be all right now. Of course, that was impossible. People who were dead stayed dead. They didn't get up again. Yet, what else would explain the serenity that had taken the place of the encroaching hysteria that she'd been struggling with only seconds ago?

She gazed at Rojo, who happened to look just as lifeless as he had a minute ago, and saw no change. But she held her breath, waiting for him to show some sign of life. Waiting for a sign, however small, that would let her know he was all right.

[Rojo]

The brain was working. THe reason why it was working was due to a large amount of necrotic energy pulsing through his body, sort of in the place of blood. It didn't act like blood, it just fueled the brain. Then the brain turned on certain organs. This energy also worked as a replacement for oxygen to the brain.

HIs younger self had said he needed to go back, but he needed to get over certain memories, right? Well, he would never get over that memory. He had to find another way back to conciousness. He tried coming. For a moment, Rojo's eyes opened, and he tried to stand up. His whole body writhed for a moment, then went still again.

Back inside his subconcious, he was thrown halfway across the brain room. He frowned, getting up and ignoring the pain of hitting the wall.

Intelligence materilised nearby.
"You called?"

***

Shadow noticed Evening stop crying immediatly. He nodded, even though she couldn't see him. He returned over to Devon, and placed a hand on his shoulder too, pushing warmth and comfort into the noble, too. But he felt the tug of weariness pulling on him heavily...

[Seven]

((Wait, so did Rojo's body in the real realm actually open it's eyes, shake, then fall still again? Or was that just Rojo inside his conscious? Well, in either case, so we can continue moving along, Devon either didn't see it (if it happened), or wouldn't have seen anything (if it didn't happen).))

Devon looks up at Shadow immiedately when he feels his hand on his shoulder. He smiles weakly, not sure what he's doing, though he can tell it helps. "Thanks Shadow."