Chương 37: Chapter 33

I said I want answers, but… What do I even ask? I only have so long that I can realistically stay behind before Onaga starts questioning where I've gone. Let's start with why Liam even had me stay, "How– How would I know if I'd been given a 'purpose'?" Liam desperately glances at his wife… And I just realized I kind of want to ask about that whole thing now, too. But she gives him a very flat look in return. Yeah, you did kind of put yourself in this situation.

"I'm certain that if you feel the need to ask, then you don't have one. Most stories don't paint the gods as what one would call 'subtle,' outside of Arceus and Mew, and the one faller we met who had a purpose…" The fox winces,"You would know." Right, gods… That reminds me of something I've wanted to know about for a while as well, "What– Who– How many gods are there? And what are their names?" I notice the wife, Maeve, give a small nod of approval at that. Liam thinks for a moment before answering, "That…

depends on what you mean. Some have called the avatars of the seasons gods, yet they are still mere pokemon. In effect, there are thousands of gods, demigods, and spirits. But if you mean those with the power to shift even the heavens? There are nine Gods–" Damn, I can hear the capital letter there,"– and humans have made far too many names for them."" So I've been told, but what are their names?" I ask, he already used one I don't know, but the fact he outright said Mew has me hopeful.

He looks at his wife again, who continues to give him a stare that says volumes. He sighs, "Arceus, Mew, Dialga, Palkia, Xerneas, Yveltal, Rayquaza, Kyogre, and Groudon." Three? Three that I don't know? … On the other hand, he said ' thousands.' There's also… Dialga, Palkia, but, "What about Giratina?" I ask. Liam blinks at me, "Giratina is dead."

"Well… So am I." The fox shakes his head, "You misunderstand," He says, the room around him shifting into carvings and stained glass, "It is nearly universally agreed that Giratina was slain by its siblings, no matter the interpretation." He gestures at what are probably recreations of actual places, pointing out figures that look nothing like what I remember from the games. A dark, sideways maw being speared by mounted figures of blue and pink, repeated in different mediums over and over. Not just a story.

History." Giratina is, perhaps, the most hated and well-known God, and I recommend not using the name in polite company," The zoroark continues.

"Of course, that depends on where you are. But here, so very close to where the battle took place? Be wary of humans invoking the name." Right…

"I'm assuming humans almost never use their names at all, though? How do you even know them if they aren't used?"" Most humans barely know half of them exist," he replies dryly.

"To them, they are stories, legends, faith. Mere ideas that have never and will never be seen." He eyes me, "You seem to know better, at least. And it's simply a matter of finding and asking the right people," He gives me a very meaningful look, "Some of us live rather long lives, after all." I really, really want to follow up on… everything there, but that would definitely take too long. I decide to let my curiosity get the better of me, and change the subject, "So… You two are married?

And Onaga doesn't know about–" I gesture at the fox, "–You?" Liam's glance at Maeve is even more desperate now, and she finally relents, "Liam was the first person I met when I found myself in this world–""You mean–" The look Maeve turns on me kills my words more effectively than anything she could have said.

"…I suppose that would get your attention rather effectively," She sighs.

"To make the story of my life short, yes, when I was… Oh, a wee girl of ten? Counting dates became rather difficult for a while. But, I simply tripped and found myself lost." She smiles warmly, a flood of joy and nostalgia pouring out of her, "And marrying Liam was one of the best choices I've ever made." I just realized what's throwing me off about her voice. I've gotten so used to the translation since it just happens that I barely noticed when it stopped." You're speaking English," I say, dumbfounded.

Then I blink and everything she'd said registers "Wait, so you two actually are…"" Happily," Maeve nods.

"We did consider telling our children, long ago. However…" I can taste the guilt she feels for what she's about to say, "I didn't want to explain the circumstances around their conception, and they wouldn't have understood why I chose Liam afterward," She admits.

"And… I was afraid of judgment for it, especially from my own children." She sighs, looking down, "I was too young, then, I know I made mistakes." She's silent for a long moment, Liam taking his attention off me to quietly comfort the woman. I guess… she's had a long time to think about it.

"I'm sorry for asking."" Oh, you couldn't know, not truly," She dismisses my apology with a slight shake of her head.

"But yes, Liam and I have spent the best of our lives together. And no, our granddaughter isn't aware. Yet." That yet is carrying a lot of weight… Mmm.

"So, you're telling me not to let her know."

"It would be appreciated," The zoroark says.

"We would like to handle that and the… inevitable issues ourselves." Fair enough, that's quite the bomb to drop on someone. Although it does imply they think Onaga might not handle it well… After a moment of silence, I glance at Maeve, a thought occurring, "You're not going to ask about… um, Home? Earth?"

"No," she shakes her head, "I've lived here all my life. Perhaps twenty years ago I might have still wanted to know, at the least. But not anymore." I don't really know what to say to that, or what I was expecting when I asked. Um, what else would be nice to know? I don't think I should stay much longer… Oh.

"What– What can you tell me about ghosts?" I ask, the fox and woman both seeming glad for the complete change of focus." I'm not certain," The red-gray pokemon admits.

"Likely more than most, simply by experience."

"Most trainers keep their knowledge of rarer pokemon to themselves," Maeve says, shaking her head.

"Anything to get a slight edge," She chuckles, "I was no different, of course. Though it seems so much less important, looking back."

"I can't imagine you haven't heard certain commonalities already," Liam continues.

"Unstable, unpredictable, often going from calm to 'enraged' in an instant. Liable to simply vanish. That type of knowledge." I nod." All that is true," He says, "But it disregards why. You, for instance, seem to be a single, whole, person. You are unusual in that sense, most ghost-type pokemon form from multiple deaths and accumulated negativity. Rarely they may result from a pairing between two existing ghosts, as unlikely as that is. You–" He points at me, "–Are a miracle.

And that likely has to do with whatever random event led you to fall here." He says that, but I'm starting to suspect there wasn't anything random involved … Let's put that memory away for now.

"But you can't tell me much more?" Liam shrugs, "Yours is the domain of spirit, beyond the veil of mortality. I only have a tenuous grasp on that kind of power, myself," He says, creating a very familiar flashing orb that's burning in my senses. The colors are weird, though…

"The one technique I ever mastered, I found quite useful." Well, that's… something, at least, even if the way he talks feels excessive. I can probably get away with one more question, right? But I have so many things I want to follow up on already– I'm not going to let this chance get away, am I? Well, if I'm going to be late anyway… Follow-ups, then illusions. S imple enough. ▲▲▲ ▼▼▼ Still no sign of Misdreavus. Which would be normal, if they hadn't been absent for the entire train ride back.

After today, I'm confident my concerns about them are—or were—perhaps excessive, though not unfounded. And I think they just need me to extend my trust first. Fully. After all, they know if I have doubts or concerns. So, if I can't put those aside, I can at least let Misdreavus know I'll trust them in spite of that. Who knows? Maybe in a few years I can see about teaching ranger students how to handle empaths… If I can learn how to handle it myself, that is.

I hope I'm not reading too far into the fact that Misdreavus made themself known during dinner. They don't normally make themself known like that, especially since they were clearly conflicted about something. It does make me wonder if they have issues with feeling vulnerable, though. Even Espeon does, and he made a two-way bond with me that I can sort of feel and maybe cut off if I tried. Harmony. Yes, that. But Misdreavus is a lot harder to handle since it's all one way with them.

I can tell they aren't being malicious or willfully problematic, just very passive. It's difficult to tell what they're thinking sometimes, and what they're feeling is either entirely obvious or a complete mystery. On the other hand, their willingness to help and desire to not be a bother are both pretty clear. At least they don't seem unhappy. After all, they can very easily make any displeasure known. I brace myself lightly as I feel the train starts to decelerate.

The short blast of the horn lets the less attentive know that we're almost to Vientown. Also that anyone near the tracks should get away. Espeon doesn't want to move, having settled on my lap, but a mental nudge gets him to grudgingly stand. Weaver remains where she is, leaning farther into me even as she cracks an eye open to lazily follow the lighter of the two pokemon. I suppose thinking about the differences between my partners has helped.

Weaver is, in the manner of all dark-types I've ever heard of, entirely loyal to everyone she deems worthy. That list includes only myself and two recent additions. Espeon is far too dependent, and he knows it. He also needs the support to not shatter under the weight of his emotions, even if he doesn't want to put that burden on me. Which you shouldn't be afraid of doing.

I know it feels like it's too much and you don't want to hurt me, but sharing that weight will make it easier to handle if, or rather, when, a certain anxious ghost isn't around. And that's the thing with Misdreavus, isn't it? They are anxious. Constantly. About what—or if there even is anything—I'm still uncertain, although they're clearly trying to keep it under control. And mostly succeeding, for which I'm both thankful and amazed.

Still, I may not be a betting woman, but I imagine their age, memory, and intelligence aren't making it easier on them. I'm aware that part of the problem I've had with connecting to Misdreavus is simply that they weren't brought in by me. Weaver is the one who recruited them. Not… unexpectedly, after that incident, although partners typically join because of a direct connection, n ot a partner recruiting more. They do seem to be slowly opening up, though.

Of course, the fact I've seen them comforting Espeon during and after panic attacks was, and is, a very good sign of their overall personality. At least if you follow the logic that Misdreavus is prioritizing another over any kind of personal gain. Say, for instance, willingly cutting off an active supply of good food because it helps someone else. That's the kind of thing that would get a ranger to ask if a pokemon wanted to join as a partner.

But the fact that Misdreavus seems uncomfortable with their own preference in diet… I can see why they didn't answer Rowan's question about it. Preferring emotions that correlate to suffering probably contributes to why the kind seeming ghost is distant. Affirmation. Kindness. I hope Misdreavus isn't starving themself because of that. Negation. That's good, at least. And I think it's time you got out of my head again. Understanding. Affirmation. Harmony.

Espeon leaves my thoughts right as the train fully comes to a stop, and I shelve the musings for another time. Once we leave the train, I'm treated to an interesting sight. Rowan and Ohkido are standing across the road from the station, looking at the roof of the cafe-house there, while Misdreavus—who, thinking about it, can likely fly faster than a passenger train—gazes out over… everything, it seems like. They're relaxed in a way they almost never are, although without the glow of a psychic technique this time.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. It's clear they've noticed me, and Misdreavus simply flies in a smooth arc from the rooftop to where I'm standing.

"Misdreavus," They say, looking down guiltily. I pick my best guess for why they vanished earlier, "You wanted to look around Pueltown?" Misdreavus bobs, still not coiling any parts of their mane or shrinking down.

"Well, you look like you needed it," I tell them. That makes them look up at me, blinking.

"Vile weavile vile. Weave vile?!" Weaver cuts in, asking Misdreavus something. Demands, really. I leave them to their conversation as the group I've ended up leading moves toward the professor and his protege, both of whom are excited.

"It is good to see you again, Miss Onaga," Rowan greets, deadpan as ever, glare still firmly in place even as the hint of a smile plays under his mustache.

"I presume you've noticed the difference in behavior your partner is displaying?" I nod, glancing at the ghost pokemon. It's interesting how the few times I've seen them truly relax, they aren't resting or detached. They're hyper-aware. Even while they're answering Weaver's questions, I see Misdreavus' eyes continue to take everything in.

"They seem quite elegant, now," Ohkido comments, "Like a dragonair in flight." That statement earns the man a long look from Misdreavus before the ghost returns to their vigil.

"I would liken the sight more to a lumineon," Rowan says, putting a hand to his chin, "With the sub-dermal patterns. Do you see how the mane remains as a singular whole?" They aren't wrong, Misdreavus is more flowing than floating at the moment, looking a bit larger than normal due to both their mane being entirely free-floating and their gemstones not being held so close to their body. So, something happened while they were in Pueltown. Or it's an extension of whatever made them less shy during dinner earlier.

Maybe they truly did just need time. Or maybe it's because I was able to relax as well… I'm certainly going to need to ask about it, regardless. Although it seems like Weaver's asking enough questions right now.

"It's not the first time I've seen them like this," I say, three sets of eyes rotating to focus on me, "Although every other time they've been wrapped in psychic power."" A Calm-Mind variation?" Ohkido wonders, stooping slightly to be at eye-level with the ghost—he keeps his distance, thankfully.

"It is true those techniques are typically seen in pokemon with psychic predispositions, though not commonly among the young." His comment reminds me that I really need to ask Marshal about how much she did for Misdreavus at some point. Would it be less impolite to do that with or without the ghost present?

"We should get moving," I tell the two men, doing so myself, "I understand you likely want more time to observe Misdreavus, but I've had a long day." Even if most of it was administrative work." Yes, about that," Rowan says, he and Ohkido smoothly falling alongside my partners and me, "Would it be possible to arrange for us to watch the pokemon at night? P ossibly tonight?" I sigh. Yes, it would be entirely possible, but I'd like to get a full night's sleep at some point this week.

Of course, the main issue is that they need some kind of escort to keep them out of trouble—specifically with the alphas—and that's fallen to me because they're researching my partner. Not to mention the fact that Espeon apparently needs both the ghost and I around to sleep well.

"I can't say at the moment," I defer, "I'll need to check some things first." The issue of the two men having an escort overnight could easily be solved by Weaver. She wouldn't have any problems staying up at night and would be able to sleep it off better than I could. That still leaves the problem of Espeon's nightmares and possible negative feedback loop. I could, of course, fill a thermos with tea and or coffee and just push through, but the main issue still remains.

Espeon needs to get enough sleep, and he's incapable of falling asleep without being near me at the moment. Further, without Misdreavus consistently feeding on his emotions, he won't sleep well enough… That's not actually a sure thing, though. One night does not a pattern make. On the other hand, Espeon didn't enter a feedback loop, and I suspect that was because he was connected to me at the time. He still had a nightmare, but he didn't spiral. Or Misdreavus interrupted it before it could start.

That's a possibility. I turn my attention back to the professor and his assistant for a moment, the two of them now in conversation.

"–Agree it lacks any nuance, but it is mostly meant as a quick reference. …Or teaching aid," Ohkido says.

"I met trainers who would have benefited from a look at it during my tournament days. It has its uses."" I'm not denying that, Sam," Rowan responds, raising a hand in placation, "I'm pointing out that trying to figure out 'where ghost-type falls on the chart' is not the way to go about this at the moment. Beyond that, the official Type Chart is ultimately decided by a sports committee, not a scientific body," The man scoffs.

Ah, the discussion everyone who studies pokemon has annually; 'Why, in the names of whichever gods you choose, does the Type Chart look like that?' And usually how one would improve it.

"Is ghost even going to be officially added any time soon?" I ask, causing the two of them to look at me.

"…Likely not," Ohkido admits after a moment.

"While I'm increasingly certain there are a larger number of people who have encountered stable individuals than we've assumed, it likely isn't a great amount. And among them, those who have made that knowledge public are vanishingly small." He glances at Misdreavus, floating above us, "Though I believe you fall into a slightly different category than the rest, as well." He's correct there.

The new agreements between the League and the Ranger Union require sharing certain information with their sponsored researchers. Returning to my thoughts to Espeon, I glance down at the lilac cat trotting alongside me. There's something I need to know more about, so I decide to simply ask, "Doctor Ohkido," The man straightens slightly, "What can you tell me about how an espeon's bond works?" My fellow Kantonian glances at the cat in question before considering t he question for several seconds.

"… The bond was always the most sensitive part for everyone involved in my study of the pokemon," He prefaces, looking between Espeon and me, "But I assume you've noticed how it isn't symmetrical?" I nod. That's one of the most obvious parts of it. I c an feel Espeon's mood if I focus on it, push thoughts through if I try, and control how much goes through it with some effort, but that's all I get.

I know it's how Espeon gets into my head, and that he's better than me at anything involving emotions, but he also can't communicate back as easily.

"While studying espeon, we only had a few participants, and… well, I'd have loved to study those who bonded with other pokemon–" Rowan coughs.

"Right, yes, your question," Ohkido sheepishly says, "Psychic connections aren't well understood, of course, but nearly all participants reported multiple instances of dream-sharing and a level of emotional mimicry from the pokemon. There were also two instances of the human being affected by the pokemon's emotions, although it was stated to be deliberate." The man stares into space for a moment before continuing, "I can't say anything for the mechanics behind it, aside from the effect being upheld by the pokemon.

Although control was supposedly shared." That… might help make some sense of things, I think. Espeon was even mimicking some of my movements at first —mostly head and eye motions— before I put up boundaries. Although I doubt that would have stopped him from eventually spiraling like he did. The issue is that I haven't reopened the connection to that degree since then. I may need to change that.

"Thank you for the information," I say, distractedly. It's given me an idea, at least. And it will hopefully improve things with Espeon long-term, as well as possibly keep me from needing to ask Misdreavus to stay at base every night. ▲▲▲ ▼▼▼"I'm happy you seem to be feeling well," Onaga says once we're in the hallway, away from the two professors. One of whom isn't even a professor yet, but I'm going to count him as one anyway.

Onaga is practically radiating confidence and acceptance, I'm convinced in a bid to get me to open up to her. Mostly due to the slight undercurrent of desire. And it's fucking working, but that won't make the conversation any easier to have once it gets started. But Onaga's also not wrong, I feel… better. Knowing that my being here is more likely chance or coincidence than anything is a weight off of my non-existent shoulders. Even just getting some of my questions answered was nice. Like learning some history.

Apparently 'fallers' have been a thing since forever here. And the League—which is a sort of multinational government group that runs a lot of things, including 'The Pokemon Battle League'—isn't very old. Or that the Rangers have only existed for about six decades, and I met the woman who started it. Explains Onaga's reaction to her a bit more. She wasn't just the person in charge, she's the person who made it all happen. …

I probably should have asked for some broader history, but I was too focused on certain things. Like learning more about Gods. It almost makes me want to say 'Jesus Christ,' but he's not here and that might be actual blasphemy now… Except what the hell else am I supposed to say about them? One of the ones I hadn't heard of is some kind of god of creation. B ut in a sort of specific way that no one actually knows? Mew is right up there with him, apparently, as some sort of God of change.

Dialga and Palkia are still space and time, except people just call both of them Sinnoh? And they call Arceus, the big God, the same exact thing a lot of the time? And then there are the Gods of life and death, and, apparently, no one really knows anything about them except that one is a tree and the other rests in its branches. That's not even mentioning that the reason people hate Giratina is because there was and still is some doomsday cult surrounding it? …' It' sounds wrong. Whatever.

I didn't even ask about the thousands of others, and it's still fucking confusing. At least illusions went a bit better, although the answer to ' What am I doing wrong?' Being 'you're doing it right but in the wrong way' was… a thing. As well as what I need to do to fix it. Hey, Charlie, why didn't you think about mixing powers together, huh? However, he did say I needed to 'become the master of experience,' and 'learn not to consume, but to burn' before I'd be able to pull off an illusion.

I can put two and two together, but why did he have to describe types and powers that way? I need to figure out dark-type stuff. See, you flowery fox? How hard was that to say? Not that I know how the hell I'm even going to get started on that, or how to handle doing that kind of thing to myself. I've seen what it does to Weaver. I don't know if I want that to happen to me.

Except it's not like I haven't done something similar already with what is apparently 'Calm Mind'—obvious, really—and it's probably a good thing if I learn about it since, you know, pokemon. Sometimes it slaps me in the face, sometimes I need to remind myself. … I was in the middle of something. Right. I still even feel pretty good, but back to keeping myself aware and present." And you're back to normal," Onaga sighs, moving us toward the shower room.

"So, would you be okay letting me know what happened and what calms you down like that?" HA! I'm not stepping into your family matters like that. And for the second part, how do I explain how good it feels to finally… make progress? To get answers and the promise of more if I ever need them. To just… feel like I can do what I'd like, even if it will take more work. To have all that come together and let me feel… lighter for a bit. I guess the best thing to do is at least get across why I can't explain.

That mostly involves wiggling a few of my arms in vague, if frustrated, motions before ending with a shrug.

"It's too complicated, huh?" She's only lightly concerned, and there's is a bit of her own frustration in there, but I also see her visibly put them aside, "Or it's too much… I suppose I can understand that," She says, looking down in thought, "I think I've asked if you're okay enough times, so I won't again." I don't know how she's purposefully—it has to be purposeful—bringing emotions like assurance to bear, but I assume it has to do with the apparent emotional weapon the Rangers carry.

After a quiet moment in which Espeon goes from listless, to alert, to uncomfortable but accepting, Onaga looks at the doorway, "So, you heard what they were asking about earlier. Would you be willing to let those two watch you tonight?" My opinions about them haven't really changed, so I shrug. It doesn't make a difference to me." To be clear," The woman explains, undressing, "They want to watch you outside the base, and I won't be there. It will be Weaver keeping an eye on them if you say yes." Okay, but…

My eyes drift to Espeon, the cat staying out of the tiled shower area.

"I know after last night you might want to stay close by him," Onaga says, "But as helpful as you are, there's something we need to try as a longer-term solution." I mean, she's probably right. Espeon needs more than me acting as a band-aid, and if she has an idea about that, I'm not going to argue." If you say so," I nod before turning to Weaver, the black and red cat having gone quiet after she finished grilling me on what I found out about — specifically one of — Onaga's grandparents, "So…

you'll be stalking my stalkers?"

"It'll likely be more than that," She replies.

"Ryu will probably have a few orders for me before giving the go-ahead." She glances at the now showering human, "Probably about keeping them safe. Not from you, but from themselves."

"You mean from trying to take a look at Marshal."

"Pretty much," She shrugs, "Ryu just needs to tell me that first. And maybe other things I should know just in case. Oh, and," She frowns, "I probably won't be able to help you learn to use dark energy tonight."

The fact those two are now keeping a much larger distance while watching me is interesting. They're even using binoculars at times. It's also fun to mess with them, I have to admit. They probably expected me to fly out to the forest, and I plan to at some point tonight, but the city still has plenty of places to look around and explore. Weaver needs to constantly orient them toward me, though, since I'm passing over and through buildings, as well as the unreal.

I'm feeling good tonight, and if they want to follow me as I just fly around enjoying it, that's on them. Something fun I learned from listening in while they didn't know I'd sneaked up on them is that I'm well camouflaged against the night sky. Which I suppose makes sense if I compare what I look like in the mirror with what I see above me, doubly so since I've heard my silhouette gets fuzzy at any kind of distance as well.

I'm a bit glad my necklace stopped glowing at some point—shortly after boarding the train—earlier today. After talking to Onaga's grandparents, I'm wondering how much of what I am was designed and how much actually evolved over time. It's sort of unavoidable with the fact that there are very real gods. My body and instincts are clearly optimized for certain things, and what Oak and Rowan have been speculating about them makes some sense. I'm… like an emotional whale-vulture thing.

I can fly through an area, miasma net extended, and pick up all the still free-floating emotions for food. I'm assuming that's efficient somehow, but I don't know how my metabolism works. If I even still have one. On the other hand, why? And more importantly, if ghosts are so rare that they barely reproduce, how? It makes me think my body was designed to fill a niche instead of how nature normally works with things sort of just adapting to fill it.

I'm also not sure I want to think about how much clearer my thoughts are sometimes, and how much smarter I feel like I am now. Of course, I only feel that way because I'm not an anxious or depressed wreck at the moment. So maybe Weaver was right and I was always held back by something I'm only now capable of pushing back against. I've looped back on this thought countless times— although I suppose I could count if I wanted to—but right now it doesn't feel so existential. How much of me is still me?

With the different body and brain and everything they affect. And I'm still thankful to Marshal for setting me straight on that. I'm me, regardless of if I'm the same person, I at least feel like I am. My tastes in a lot of things have changed, but many are still the same too. I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop on certain things, though. That'll probably be when I meet another ghost. … My thoughts are drifting. Not necessarily a bad thing right now, but still.

Of course, it's easy to think about select topics while I have two researchers constantly sharing speculation nearby. Like simply how my body works in general. That's why I started thinking about evolution—the mundane kind—in the first place. I vanish from reality, bringing an arm up in front of my eyes. It isn't made of hair here. There isn't anything physical for it to be made of, yet it still exists. A solid mass that I bring another of my right arms up to, and they combine, a thicker limb now in their place.

This world is weird. And my understanding of biology is entirely inadequate and probably wrong. So, was I, or rather, my species, purpose-built? Or was there actual evolution involved? It's impossible to say, and I almost feel bad for the two currently trying to piece together the mystery that is me. Almost. It's a bit hard to truly feel for them when they are looking at me like a project. Even if the idea of learning more is nice.

But with what I remember of Pokemon, I think the answer to the question of design is that it's a little of both. Liam explained a few things about Gods, and since they're supposedly involved in how everything works I think it's more complicated than a simple yes or no. I let myself sigh into the void. All these thoughts and I still feel… good. It won't last, and I should probably feel more dread at the fact I got roundabout confirmation that, assuming nothing kills me, I am immortal.

I didn't ask in the moment, but it's hard to interpret the implied meaning in Liam's look and words in any other way, really. Jubilation? Familiarity? Those tastes are enough to knock me out of my thoughts and look out into the not-space around me. Everything is starting to glow, a rich ____ that renders the world opaque to my eyes. Even before I can start to look around there's shock, curiosity, uncertainty, disappointment, and that faint feeling of something happening nearby as all the color vanishes instantly.

Oh, good, just what I needed when I was feeling so positive. What the hell was that?!