His head jerks up when she mentions Ryatah’s name, eyes going wide. A grin spreads across his lips before disappearing just as quickly when the implications of her words sink in. “Yeah,” he replies slowly, eyeing her in a suddenly new light. “So you’re my…” he runs it quickly through in his head, “niece.”
“Holy crap!” There’s a moment of stunned silence, then he laughs. It’s not a quick laugh, but rather a rolling belly laugh with an almost hysterical quality to it. But then, it’s not every day one learns they’ve been eaten by their own sibling and niece. And Cassian being Cassian can’t help but see the hilarity in that kind of revelation.
When he finally manages to compose himself and shift the conversation to something much safer, he has to work to suppress the chuckles that keep wanting to sneak up his throat. At least until Nostromo responds and reveals that she doesn’t like the ghosts.
Frowning, Cassian’s gaze shifts to the tiny balls of light floating around her body. He eyes them curiously. They don’t look like ghosts, but what does he actually know? Angelic halo and strange ability to be reborn aside, he knows nothing of the afterlife. He doesn’t remember anything about what comes after death aside from a seemingly endless gray mist before he’s sucked back into his newly minted, childish body.
He nods when she continues, revealing her newfound lack of anger and ability to dream. Anger is not something Cassian has a lot of experience with, but it sounds exhausting. His mind, however, is immediately drawn back to the ghosts, curiosity overwhelming. He shouldn’t ask, especially after she said she doesn’t like them, but of course he does anyway. “So do the, uh, ghosts talk to you? Is that why you don’t like them?”
@Nostromo