[ A voice echoes in his head, familiar yet foreign all at once. In the split second, it takes him to whip his head around. He knows exactly what it means. Allen? His tone is soft, questioning, yet confident as he gently plucks at the thread between them. The act of reaching for that bond sends an array of emotions he's kept at bay: aprehension, concern, shock, and protectiveness.
The ruins splayed out before them come secondary, taking him a moment to comprehend what he's seeing. A structure in ruin. Signs of the cross catch his eye, recognizing the familiar design of the crystal embedded in Allen's hand. Was this place a church? He's seen so few in his life, he can't be sure, not that it matters. His initial trepidation settles, realizing there is meaning here; even if he can't grasp it, he knows Allen does.
He steps to his side, locating him by the delicate tether that connects them. In the dim light, he can't see the wounds he's sustained yet, and his focus shifts to the ruins they landed in when Allen starts to speak.
The Order. An organization of Exorcists Allen was once a part of. Was this Branch hunting him too? Or were they too busy with the war? The one he lost his teacher to recently. Shouto takes his hand in his, affection flowing through the bond, and a touch of sympathy. He looks around the extravagant structure with its marble pillars and great hallways that reminded him of Western architecture. Was this where he lost him? General Cross? Or was this another casualty of that war?
His thoughts still at the answer to his unuttered question, and he squeezes his hand firmly, conviction flooding the bond. ]
no subject
The ruins splayed out before them come secondary, taking him a moment to comprehend what he's seeing. A structure in ruin. Signs of the cross catch his eye, recognizing the familiar design of the crystal embedded in Allen's hand. Was this place a church? He's seen so few in his life, he can't be sure, not that it matters. His initial trepidation settles, realizing there is meaning here; even if he can't grasp it, he knows Allen does.
He steps to his side, locating him by the delicate tether that connects them. In the dim light, he can't see the wounds he's sustained yet, and his focus shifts to the ruins they landed in when Allen starts to speak.
The Order. An organization of Exorcists Allen was once a part of. Was this Branch hunting him too? Or were they too busy with the war? The one he lost his teacher to recently. Shouto takes his hand in his, affection flowing through the bond, and a touch of sympathy. He looks around the extravagant structure with its marble pillars and great hallways that reminded him of Western architecture. Was this where he lost him? General Cross? Or was this another casualty of that war?
His thoughts still at the answer to his unuttered question, and he squeezes his hand firmly, conviction flooding the bond. ]
What happened?