[ Jaime's always so quick with that soft sympathy; ready at any moment to offer compassion and understanding, even when he might not understand the full picture. It's a rare thing; from anyone else, the comparative speed of assurance might seem flippant, thoughtless or uncaring, but Jaime always means it. And, more than that... or, at least, more important than that for Ruka is how easily he can accept the things she tells him. Not always how much responsibility she has about any given thing, maybe, but he never tries to dismantle the world around her to transform it into something less strange, less unusual than the things he already knows. How often had she tried to explain who she was to other people, only to be shut down at the start? How many times has she thought of speaking and only pushed the words back down, unable to muster the courage to face another wall of disbelief?
He doesn't have her whole story, but he has more pieces than she's ever given anyone else. If they take the time to venture to her own heart after this, he might more than she's ever known how to say. Ruka isn't even sure what she expects to find there, and may be a little afraid to see it herself, but... she's not afraid of how Jaime will react to it.
She's never trusted anyone like this. And, as she takes hand, she's reminded that nobody has ever trusted her like this. ]
Ready.
[ Passing through the archway is not some sharp jolt from one place to another, although by all rights it should be. There's no sun and no sky above them, no grass below their feet or landscape around them — but a ceiling, a floor, and walls running parallel beside them. It should be sharp, but it feels only like the zoning out and returning to alertness during a familiar, everyday drive; like coming to the end of a stretch of empty highway that hasn't changed in years.
It's a mundane little hallway, stone and natural light from somewhere unseen, nothing of interest along its walls. It is only a place of transition.
But as the hallway ends, the destinations reveal themselves: a pair of doors, one on each side of the hallway, facing the other. Beyond them, the walls bend from their parallel track and converge, an empty little triangle of narrowed floor until two walls become one, shared. As for the doors themselves, they look nothing like the hallway they're in — and nothing like one another.
Ruka looks up at Jaime's face, squeezing his hand. ]
I think you can probably tell which one is which.
[ On one side of the hallway, the door into the heart of Khaji Da. On the other, the door into the heart of Jaime Reyes. ]
[ Jaime holds his breath as they step through. It's a stupid inclination, more a reflex than anything else. It won't help anything. But he's still strangely trepidatious around all things magic. He trusts Ruka, of course, trusts that she'll keep him safe no matter what. Still, though -- magic is such an unknown quantity, so unpredictable, so undefined by the rules Jaime knows that he never quite knows what to make of it.
And then a moment later, he forgets entirely that he'd been nervous at all, returning Ruka's squeezed hand with one of his own. He lets out a gasp, surprised and delighted all at once. ]
Oh! [ His smile beams out of him, eyes bright. ] Khaji has one too! Of course he does, I just --
[ People have spent so long denying Khaji's personhood. Jaime knows he has a heart, had ventured deep into it with Dick those many years ago. But to see it standing here ordinarily beside Jaime's, even if it's far larger and far more foreboding, is something special. He places his hand flat on it then looks behind him, grinning at Khaji. ]
Khaji, look!
[ Khaji wasn't there when they retrieved his heart. He didn't know. He lumbers forward in great big hesitant steps, then places his gargantuan clawed hand just over Jaime's, claws skittering down the patterns embedded in his door. ]
Yes. I do.
[ There is something content in it. Jaime looks at Khaji, fond, then looks at Ruka, as though sharing something secret and important with her. He lets Khaji have his moment in silence as he slips away, looking at his own door. It's an ordinary wooden door. There's nothing noteworthy about it. ]
And this is the door to my house, [ he says, smile a little crooked. ] The one I grew up in. We couldn't get the same one back. It was too old.
...heh. Look at us. Getting more excited about a couple of doors than the whole spirit world.
[ Khaji's still looking at his. It seems somehow right that Ruka, the one who had never needed introductions, who had always included Khaji as though it was as natural as breathing, who knows what it's like to have a quiet companion of her very own, is the one to show him this. ]
[ It's a striking moment, heavy with feeling. Khaji Da doesn't wear an expression on his face, but she can feel the marvel, the novel contentment — the sense of finally having something confirmed that you've always believed. Although, some of that might be the overlap with Jaime. Even though they're separated here, and have separate hearts, even in this space those hearts share a wall; their bodies share a connection. Even here, it would take more strength than this to truly cleave them apart. ]
Without spirits, it's just a forest. [ she offers with a shrug, easy as anything. ] Of course this is more exciting.
I have to warn you, though. Before we go in there... these rooms contain manifestations of your heart — of your soul. All the things that are important to you, good or bad... or the things you've discarded, or tried to destroy. Things you remember, and things you don't.
But, even like this, it's still connected to you. So long as you're alive, your heart can change, so... if you try to change things here, it can change you.
You have to treat these things gently. Even the parts you don't like. Okay?
Yeah. I've done something like this before. A friend of ours helped us get Khaji back. He was locked in a place like this. If that worked in real life, then I figured a good basic rule is just, um, no messing with anything.
[ He's faintly worried about her words. He doesn't want to see anything he doesn't want to see, doesn't want that nagging doubt when he sees something in there that he hates about himself. He can see destroying it in an emotional fit if he was in a worse way, a more self-destructive way, but he doesn't think he's known that kind of feeling since he and Ruka got together properly. It smooths out a lot of the sharp edges to have someone else to talk to who you're not paying to do it. ]
So. No touching without your say so. [ At that, Khaji finally turns from his door, arms hanging low by his sides as he looks slowly between Khaji and Ruka. ]
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He doesn't have her whole story, but he has more pieces than she's ever given anyone else. If they take the time to venture to her own heart after this, he might more than she's ever known how to say. Ruka isn't even sure what she expects to find there, and may be a little afraid to see it herself, but... she's not afraid of how Jaime will react to it.
She's never trusted anyone like this. And, as she takes hand, she's reminded that nobody has ever trusted her like this. ]
Ready.
[ Passing through the archway is not some sharp jolt from one place to another, although by all rights it should be. There's no sun and no sky above them, no grass below their feet or landscape around them — but a ceiling, a floor, and walls running parallel beside them. It should be sharp, but it feels only like the zoning out and returning to alertness during a familiar, everyday drive; like coming to the end of a stretch of empty highway that hasn't changed in years.
It's a mundane little hallway, stone and natural light from somewhere unseen, nothing of interest along its walls. It is only a place of transition.
But as the hallway ends, the destinations reveal themselves: a pair of doors, one on each side of the hallway, facing the other. Beyond them, the walls bend from their parallel track and converge, an empty little triangle of narrowed floor until two walls become one, shared. As for the doors themselves, they look nothing like the hallway they're in — and nothing like one another.
Ruka looks up at Jaime's face, squeezing his hand. ]
I think you can probably tell which one is which.
[ On one side of the hallway, the door into the heart of Khaji Da. On the other, the door into the heart of Jaime Reyes. ]
no subject
And then a moment later, he forgets entirely that he'd been nervous at all, returning Ruka's squeezed hand with one of his own. He lets out a gasp, surprised and delighted all at once. ]
Oh! [ His smile beams out of him, eyes bright. ] Khaji has one too! Of course he does, I just --
[ People have spent so long denying Khaji's personhood. Jaime knows he has a heart, had ventured deep into it with Dick those many years ago. But to see it standing here ordinarily beside Jaime's, even if it's far larger and far more foreboding, is something special. He places his hand flat on it then looks behind him, grinning at Khaji. ]
Khaji, look!
[ Khaji wasn't there when they retrieved his heart. He didn't know. He lumbers forward in great big hesitant steps, then places his gargantuan clawed hand just over Jaime's, claws skittering down the patterns embedded in his door. ]
Yes. I do.
[ There is something content in it. Jaime looks at Khaji, fond, then looks at Ruka, as though sharing something secret and important with her. He lets Khaji have his moment in silence as he slips away, looking at his own door. It's an ordinary wooden door. There's nothing noteworthy about it. ]
And this is the door to my house, [ he says, smile a little crooked. ] The one I grew up in. We couldn't get the same one back. It was too old.
...heh. Look at us. Getting more excited about a couple of doors than the whole spirit world.
[ Khaji's still looking at his. It seems somehow right that Ruka, the one who had never needed introductions, who had always included Khaji as though it was as natural as breathing, who knows what it's like to have a quiet companion of her very own, is the one to show him this. ]
no subject
Without spirits, it's just a forest. [ she offers with a shrug, easy as anything. ] Of course this is more exciting.
I have to warn you, though. Before we go in there... these rooms contain manifestations of your heart — of your soul. All the things that are important to you, good or bad... or the things you've discarded, or tried to destroy. Things you remember, and things you don't.
But, even like this, it's still connected to you. So long as you're alive, your heart can change, so... if you try to change things here, it can change you.
You have to treat these things gently. Even the parts you don't like. Okay?
no subject
[ He's faintly worried about her words. He doesn't want to see anything he doesn't want to see, doesn't want that nagging doubt when he sees something in there that he hates about himself. He can see destroying it in an emotional fit if he was in a worse way, a more self-destructive way, but he doesn't think he's known that kind of feeling since he and Ruka got together properly. It smooths out a lot of the sharp edges to have someone else to talk to who you're not paying to do it. ]
So. No touching without your say so. [ At that, Khaji finally turns from his door, arms hanging low by his sides as he looks slowly between Khaji and Ruka. ]
I think we're all ready now.