[Guy looks startled at the question, and his eyes shoot to the place on his shoulder where Julian's hand now rests.
Ghosts shouldn't be able to touch those who imagine them.]
Julian...
[When his gaze returns to look in those bright eyes, he seems pleading. He hasn't drank this much. He doesn't remember there being any pills. His neck has long since healed, the scratches and the blood faded memories of a time he thought Luceti to be the beginnings of Sobibor, then Bergen-Belsen. There are faded lines in his skin when he tried to claw it off, but he never sank this far. Never once could he feel Julian Bell.
No one ever told the spy the dead could bear wings and call themselves a Lucetian, and that important piece of lacking information is killing him.
Bright, beautiful flames burn out...]
Nineteen forty-five.
[His voice shakes with fear, not icy with chill but warm with the press of a palm on his sleeve and his heart hammering heat throughout all of him. It's bombastically loud, that passionate organ, and yet it can't bear to tell Julian the Spanish Civil War ended six years ago and fell to Franco. Franco may have disbanded the military and stopped supplying Germany with materials critical to their fight in the war, but Spain is still his, and Guy doesn't have the heart to tell Julian it's so.]
[action]
Ghosts shouldn't be able to touch those who imagine them.]
Julian...
[When his gaze returns to look in those bright eyes, he seems pleading. He hasn't drank this much. He doesn't remember there being any pills. His neck has long since healed, the scratches and the blood faded memories of a time he thought Luceti to be the beginnings of Sobibor, then Bergen-Belsen. There are faded lines in his skin when he tried to claw it off, but he never sank this far. Never once could he feel Julian Bell.
No one ever told the spy the dead could bear wings and call themselves a Lucetian, and that important piece of lacking information is killing him.
Bright, beautiful flames burn out...]
Nineteen forty-five.
[His voice shakes with fear, not icy with chill but warm with the press of a palm on his sleeve and his heart hammering heat throughout all of him. It's bombastically loud, that passionate organ, and yet it can't bear to tell Julian the Spanish Civil War ended six years ago and fell to Franco. Franco may have disbanded the military and stopped supplying Germany with materials critical to their fight in the war, but Spain is still his, and Guy doesn't have the heart to tell Julian it's so.]