[it's the same manor as before, though perhaps a different room in it. it's a different view, and lit with nothing but moonlight peering in through a high window. the hall has been razed, with the toppled angles of broken furniture lying among the softer, fallen shapes of bodies. it's all wreckage, with very few things left unbroken.
and one of them is a familiar teenage boy with one moonglow eye. he's scrambling to his feet, tears streaming silently down his face, and staring up into a set of orange eyes that have the same light to them. the tall, skullfaced stranger is terrifying, but the man doesn't hurt him. instead, he motions for him to step forward, away from the bookcase he's cowering against. because, the skullfaced man has decided that he's worth saving.
the glow in his eye-- the color is brimming with a potential for power, a potential to understand. it's a spark he's only ever seen a couple of times in his life in anyone else. and as he watches the boy break his gaze to look over the still, ruined bodies of his family, it reminds him of too many things.
so, as the boy steps closer, Zhas shrugs off his jacket.
it's not the motion of something done on a whim, and it's not something with a great deal of weight to it. it just has to happen, so he does it with neither grudge nor grandiose gesture.
stepping forward just as certain, he swings the coat up and over the kid's shoulders. he pulls the collar forward to make sure it hangs well, reaches into an inside pocket to pull out a kit that he'll need later. And then he steps back, returning them to their separate boundaries.
"I'll need that back," he says, half-signing the words anyway, "Don't lose it."
and Coil looks so small. the coat makes him look like a child, with weights dragging down on his shoulders. as if the thing weighs a thousand pounds, it makes something about him buckle and crumble beneath it.
it's because the gesture brings reality pressing down. it's something sudden and tangible, and it isn't what he'd expected. it surprises him, hangs on him, pins him down to the present. everything is a little more real, then.
he's grounded now.
the heaviness helps still his shaking, it pulls him back together. as the man heads out of the room and leaves him with the finality of his surroundings, Coil steps and sinks back against the bookshelf again... but the coat keeps him on his feet.]
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and one of them is a familiar teenage boy with one moonglow eye. he's scrambling to his feet, tears streaming silently down his face, and staring up into a set of orange eyes that have the same light to them. the tall, skullfaced stranger is terrifying, but the man doesn't hurt him. instead, he motions for him to step forward, away from the bookcase he's cowering against. because, the skullfaced man has decided that he's worth saving.
the glow in his eye-- the color is brimming with a potential for power, a potential to understand. it's a spark he's only ever seen a couple of times in his life in anyone else. and as he watches the boy break his gaze to look over the still, ruined bodies of his family, it reminds him of too many things.
so, as the boy steps closer, Zhas shrugs off his jacket.
it's not the motion of something done on a whim, and it's not something with a great deal of weight to it. it just has to happen, so he does it with neither grudge nor grandiose gesture.
stepping forward just as certain, he swings the coat up and over the kid's shoulders. he pulls the collar forward to make sure it hangs well, reaches into an inside pocket to pull out a kit that he'll need later. And then he steps back, returning them to their separate boundaries.
"I'll need that back," he says, half-signing the words anyway, "Don't lose it."
and Coil looks so small. the coat makes him look like a child, with weights dragging down on his shoulders. as if the thing weighs a thousand pounds, it makes something about him buckle and crumble beneath it.
it's because the gesture brings reality pressing down. it's something sudden and tangible, and it isn't what he'd expected. it surprises him, hangs on him, pins him down to the present. everything is a little more real, then.
he's grounded now.
the heaviness helps still his shaking, it pulls him back together. as the man heads out of the room and leaves him with the finality of his surroundings, Coil steps and sinks back against the bookshelf again... but the coat keeps him on his feet.]