[The more that Lazarus speaks, the less of Paul that can be seen. It's not only the blossoming return of obscuring light alone that veils him, but an alteration of expression, a growing still remoteness that refuses recognition even more than the proliferation of fungi.
But then Lazarus turns to reassurance, to coaxing, like Paul is a child being unreasonable, and some brittle flaw reveals itself in the forming mask as it cracks and falls away - and there he is, a child being unreasonable, his mouth twisted around the shape of unspoken no.]
You have to come back.
[But what comes forth isn't denial, or a plea, or the desperate, forceless command of someone without any power to enforce their will through it. It's a flattened statement of fact, like an omen, like a grim prognosis.
Paul releases Lazarus' wrist, and something ripples as a shadow under the gleam of his blood, roils across the whole of his hand. He pays it no attention.]
no subject
But then Lazarus turns to reassurance, to coaxing, like Paul is a child being unreasonable, and some brittle flaw reveals itself in the forming mask as it cracks and falls away - and there he is, a child being unreasonable, his mouth twisted around the shape of unspoken no.]
You have to come back.
[But what comes forth isn't denial, or a plea, or the desperate, forceless command of someone without any power to enforce their will through it. It's a flattened statement of fact, like an omen, like a grim prognosis.
Paul releases Lazarus' wrist, and something ripples as a shadow under the gleam of his blood, roils across the whole of his hand. He pays it no attention.]