[ If it wasn't the voice, a name that still comes close to being buried under the noise of talking around them, Tidus wouldn't look up. Lost in his thoughts that he's kept tucked close to his heart. Zanarkand, with all its people; his old man, always a lingering presence; and Auron, a man he never really knew...
He doesn't know who speaks it, if he imagines it, until he turns his head and sees Inigo, a small 'oh' coming with the rise of his eyebrows. ]
'Sup. You come to light some candles? You're supposed to put the long ones at the shrine, but- I didn't want to.
[ Casually, he speaks, because why wouldn't he? Everyone's talking, encouraged to talk, and he's joining in, in a way he isn't sure what to do, but he sure knows how to use his mouth.
no subject
He doesn't know who speaks it, if he imagines it, until he turns his head and sees Inigo, a small 'oh' coming with the rise of his eyebrows. ]
'Sup. You come to light some candles? You're supposed to put the long ones at the shrine, but- I didn't want to.
[ Casually, he speaks, because why wouldn't he? Everyone's talking, encouraged to talk, and he's joining in, in a way he isn't sure what to do, but he sure knows how to use his mouth.
So, here he is. ]