[Oh, most certainly...as an attempted necromancer, and as someone thoroughly familiar, with the seventh fonon and its immediate limits...Jade knows quite well, that even a melodist at Tear's level cannot resurrect the dead. That any chance to save Rita has already likely been lost, in the too-late timing of the discovery. That's sensible--no matter how terrible--and Jade is hardly one to often go into denial about such hard truths, these days.
But that isn't the problem.
It's a brief thing, that flickers in Tear's eyes and colors her tone, in the immediate wake of that pressure applied. It fades soon afterwards, and the words she speaks with more sympathy afterwards settle back well enough into an expected sort of frame. But that smothered anger...it's noted, all the same, in the time it takes for her to sigh it back out.
Frustration of this brand is not an expression that Tear often wears.
It isn't...something she would wear here and now, even briefly, in a circumstance like this.
The realization is a naked knife's blade with no hilt; the harder it's grasped, the more it hurts, and bleeds. ...The temptation remains, not to take hold of it at all. To set it aside and chalk it up to the chaos of processing all this. But...he can't, can he? It's too late. When the steel trap of his head is already snapped upon it, the idea bringing about an entirely new and nearly sickening sort of dread.
He could say something, right here, right now. A reaction to an accusation would surely be most telling. But--Natsuno--is still present, as well. A voice in rational tone that speaks, from behind his back. If he's--surely he couldn't be--but if he is...
(And even besides that. There's another thought, quiet and painful, that says: Not more death right over Rita's body, at least put the poor girl to rest--)
The window of eye contact is brief, but Jade stares back at Tear for the long moment in which it's held, expression entirely blank of any emotion at all. ...Then she looks away, and Jade does as well--his own glance, too, dropping back down to Rita.]
...You're right, of course. My apologies. I had hoped--no. ...It does seem...we cannot do anything for her now.
[His tone, too, empty enough of feeling to be hollow. The tension in it earlier seemingly draining. .....Certainly an easy enough thing to invoke, as approximately close to the truth that it sits to the thing knotting horribly in his chest. This is a close friend that has just died, after all, and surely even Jade Curtiss isn't entirely immune to moments of distressed denial on occasion...
A quiet breath is taken, and then Jade's slowly drawing himself to his feet, head turning to take in the rest of the room in a detached sort of fashion.]
The culprit is indeed still at large right now. There may well be another death soon, if we cannot solve what's transpired here. Before Miss Friday arrives...I should contact Palamedes... [A beat.] Do you know of anyone who might have recently passed through the cabin halls, Tear?
no subject
But that isn't the problem.
It's a brief thing, that flickers in Tear's eyes and colors her tone, in the immediate wake of that pressure applied. It fades soon afterwards, and the words she speaks with more sympathy afterwards settle back well enough into an expected sort of frame. But that smothered anger...it's noted, all the same, in the time it takes for her to sigh it back out.
Frustration of this brand is not an expression that Tear often wears.
It isn't...something she would wear here and now, even briefly, in a circumstance like this.
The realization is a naked knife's blade with no hilt; the harder it's grasped, the more it hurts, and bleeds. ...The temptation remains, not to take hold of it at all. To set it aside and chalk it up to the chaos of processing all this. But...he can't, can he? It's too late. When the steel trap of his head is already snapped upon it, the idea bringing about an entirely new and nearly sickening sort of dread.
He could say something, right here, right now. A reaction to an accusation would surely be most telling. But--Natsuno--is still present, as well. A voice in rational tone that speaks, from behind his back. If he's--surely he couldn't be--but if he is...
(And even besides that. There's another thought, quiet and painful, that says: Not more death right over Rita's body, at least put the poor girl to rest--)
The window of eye contact is brief, but Jade stares back at Tear for the long moment in which it's held, expression entirely blank of any emotion at all. ...Then she looks away, and Jade does as well--his own glance, too, dropping back down to Rita.]
...You're right, of course. My apologies. I had hoped--no. ...It does seem...we cannot do anything for her now.
[His tone, too, empty enough of feeling to be hollow. The tension in it earlier seemingly draining. .....Certainly an easy enough thing to invoke, as approximately close to the truth that it sits to the thing knotting horribly in his chest. This is a close friend that has just died, after all, and surely even Jade Curtiss isn't entirely immune to moments of distressed denial on occasion...
A quiet breath is taken, and then Jade's slowly drawing himself to his feet, head turning to take in the rest of the room in a detached sort of fashion.]
The culprit is indeed still at large right now. There may well be another death soon, if we cannot solve what's transpired here. Before Miss Friday arrives...I should contact Palamedes... [A beat.] Do you know of anyone who might have recently passed through the cabin halls, Tear?