Does it mean anything, held up against Mark's theories, Nerys' galaxy hopping experience, the fact of a door put in a cave and a section of wall left open? Do the people who snatch them out of time and space really just accidentally leave doors open, and if they don't--
"What's it mean to let us in here?" He asks, question for question. His eyes keep moving, taking in the details while he can. Jude really did a decent job of capturing the space, but charcoal is never going to do justice to the antiseptic colors, the smooth lines. The infuriating separation from an obvious console and a door.
There's a whole village and lake on the other side of the broken wall. What might be deeper into these rocks? Kira's hand rests on the glass and closes into a fist, his bottom lip rolled under his teeth.
"Not that anything we imagine is a concrete answer, but--they've got our blood. People lose abilities when they arrive that show up in villagers with no powers at all. Specific groups get sick, people come back over and over, different memories every time. Look at those--" He points at the next cooler, scientific names set below blood and seeds. He recognizes a few species well enough to guess the point, and his fingers tighten against his palm as it clearly riles him. There's only one answer he can latch onto, in the moment, and it isn't one anyone likely wants.
no subject
"What's it mean to let us in here?" He asks, question for question. His eyes keep moving, taking in the details while he can. Jude really did a decent job of capturing the space, but charcoal is never going to do justice to the antiseptic colors, the smooth lines. The infuriating separation from an obvious console and a door.
There's a whole village and lake on the other side of the broken wall. What might be deeper into these rocks? Kira's hand rests on the glass and closes into a fist, his bottom lip rolled under his teeth.
"Not that anything we imagine is a concrete answer, but--they've got our blood. People lose abilities when they arrive that show up in villagers with no powers at all. Specific groups get sick, people come back over and over, different memories every time. Look at those--" He points at the next cooler, scientific names set below blood and seeds. He recognizes a few species well enough to guess the point, and his fingers tighten against his palm as it clearly riles him. There's only one answer he can latch onto, in the moment, and it isn't one anyone likely wants.
"It's fake, or. It's manufactured. Including us."