“I was in a coma, and I slept through the Breach.” They start sketching a humanoid figure, faceless and androgynous, holding both items near its chest. They play with the shading for a few moments, trying to add depth. “I think it lasted a couple of weeks.”
"Oh, that explains why I didn't see you there. I was pretty busy during the Breach. Trying to save some kind of treasure. I think." His memories have faded enough to make the whole thing blurry.
They finish shading and turn the page back to him. “Do your memories fade easily when the Breach is over?” They think their memories feel like a dream, but sometimes parts of their other selves stay with them.
He takes the page and starts drawing a face next to the figure, hovering in the air. "Usually, unless I write them down and try to remember. This one didn't seem worth the effort."
“I should write them down more often.” They had only written about two or three of theirs. “I usually do it when I think I can learn something from them.”
He finishes drawing the face and passes the paper back to them. "That's when I write them down, usually. When they're something I can learn from or something that was sufficiently strange."
They start giving the figure a face, its eyes glowing. When they finish and turn the page back to Rawne, they tap their pen on the face he had drawn. “Is that someone you know?”
“I hope you get paired soon,” they say, “so you can get it back.” It sounds wrong when they say it, but the warmth in their body tells them some of the emotion is there.
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"It was... ok. I didn't do much. I was some kind of student sent back in time. Who were you?"
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“I was in a coma, and I slept through the Breach.” They start sketching a humanoid figure, faceless and androgynous, holding both items near its chest. They play with the shading for a few moments, trying to add depth. “I think it lasted a couple of weeks.”
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They finish shading and turn the page back to him. “Do your memories fade easily when the Breach is over?” They think their memories feel like a dream, but sometimes parts of their other selves stay with them.
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“I should write them down more often.” They had only written about two or three of theirs. “I usually do it when I think I can learn something from them.”
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They start giving the figure a face, its eyes glowing. When they finish and turn the page back to Rawne, they tap their pen on the face he had drawn. “Is that someone you know?”
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“I hope you get paired soon,” they say, “so you can get it back.” It sounds wrong when they say it, but the warmth in their body tells them some of the emotion is there.
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They felt somewhat purposeless without someone to focus on, so they can empathize with that.
“Are you planning to go back?”
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They still have a place in their world, but they might not take it. “Why not?”
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“What is it?”