[Natsuno's departing steps are hasty indeed, in the end, and the more distant sounds of door-knocking and name-calling register vaguely. ...It's at least expected enough, all of that. Tear's voice is even slightly audible, through the open doorway--even if it still isn't nearly enough, to ease the icy thing already coiling and settling in his own chest, a terrible weight. Jade's still holding the makeshift compress to Rita's neck, when the sound of several steps signals Natsuno's return, alongside Tear's arrival. Though, looking up--
The sight of her can't help but bring some pause, in another way that has nothing to really do with relief. Because that's certainly not the Locrian Sergeant's uniform she usually wears, in the least. Clearly something from the Tommy Bahama, before its theme-change earlier in the month. ...He knows she makes use of bed wear when possible, countless past shared inn stays dictating as much, but it's not even very late in the evening at all right now, and...
She's drawing forward, and crouching down beside Rita, and Jade slowly straightens away to give her that space, release the makeshift compress for Tear to take up.
She never does actually take it up.
--Again, the matter that sticks. The acceptance of it all. Even more jarring now than it was coming from Natsuno. It's entirely reasonable in a vacuum, and that's the most terrible part...the chances of saving Rita were minuscule even before Jade arrived, and such chances now practically dwindle to nothing in the time that slips by and the blood that now completely soaks his gloves. And yet, and yet--even setting that aside. (Painful as it is, to set that aside...) This...is not occurring in a vacuum at all either, is it?
It's occurring here--in the words coming out of Tear's mouth, and the way she sits back and simply stares at Rita's body. Expression hidden by her hair, yes, but there's the tone in her voice...and the way her hand never even raises to take the compress--]
...Yuuki found her several minutes ago. The wound cannot be older than a half hour, in itself. This is the earliest you could be called.
[When has Tear ever so indirectly laid such guilt, about not being called earlier? In the past there has been regret, at times, at being unable to arrive sooner...but...]
You think-- ["Think."] --that there's nothing you can do? You're not certain?
[She's never minced words about a lost cause.
If she's uncertain, why isn't she trying?
If she were uncertain, she would already be casting.
Jade's straightening slowly himself, now, watching Tear where she's knelt beside him. Natsuno's presence is still an awareness, off to the side, but this...
Perhaps it's he himself that's compromised. Perhaps he's questioning what he shouldn't. Things feel far away and unbearably close, all at once, and Rita's small prone frame even out of focus continues driving something terrible and painful into his chest. Yet still, in his head, something else is stirring too--something he hardly wants to look at, for all that it's already sending a new sort of prickling chill down the back of his neck. (Wait, hold, not yet. Hear Tear's answer. And hope, hope, that there might at least be something familiar there--)]
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The sight of her can't help but bring some pause, in another way that has nothing to really do with relief. Because that's certainly not the Locrian Sergeant's uniform she usually wears, in the least. Clearly something from the Tommy Bahama, before its theme-change earlier in the month. ...He knows she makes use of bed wear when possible, countless past shared inn stays dictating as much, but it's not even very late in the evening at all right now, and...
She's drawing forward, and crouching down beside Rita, and Jade slowly straightens away to give her that space, release the makeshift compress for Tear to take up.
She never does actually take it up.
--Again, the matter that sticks. The acceptance of it all. Even more jarring now than it was coming from Natsuno. It's entirely reasonable in a vacuum, and that's the most terrible part...the chances of saving Rita were minuscule even before Jade arrived, and such chances now practically dwindle to nothing in the time that slips by and the blood that now completely soaks his gloves. And yet, and yet--even setting that aside. (Painful as it is, to set that aside...) This...is not occurring in a vacuum at all either, is it?
It's occurring here--in the words coming out of Tear's mouth, and the way she sits back and simply stares at Rita's body. Expression hidden by her hair, yes, but there's the tone in her voice...and the way her hand never even raises to take the compress--]
...Yuuki found her several minutes ago. The wound cannot be older than a half hour, in itself. This is the earliest you could be called.
[When has Tear ever so indirectly laid such guilt, about not being called earlier? In the past there has been regret, at times, at being unable to arrive sooner...but...]
You think-- ["Think."] --that there's nothing you can do? You're not certain?
[She's never minced words about a lost cause.
If she's uncertain, why isn't she trying?
If she were uncertain, she would already be casting.
Jade's straightening slowly himself, now, watching Tear where she's knelt beside him. Natsuno's presence is still an awareness, off to the side, but this...
Perhaps it's he himself that's compromised. Perhaps he's questioning what he shouldn't. Things feel far away and unbearably close, all at once, and Rita's small prone frame even out of focus continues driving something terrible and painful into his chest. Yet still, in his head, something else is stirring too--something he hardly wants to look at, for all that it's already sending a new sort of prickling chill down the back of his neck. (Wait, hold, not yet. Hear Tear's answer. And hope, hope, that there might at least be something familiar there--)]