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What's he like?

(Hopefully that isn't too hard a question for him to answer; Lucretia can tell that it's quite complicated. She finds his hand from where his arm is about her shoulder, and gives it a little reassuring pat.)

[ There's a brief breath of laughter for the pat. ]

Nowadays? He's pretty... well, rigid, but he's strong and kind and even thoughtful sometimes, even if he doesn't realize what he's doing or not. A good dad, and that in and of itself is a hoot.

He sounds lovely.

(Hopefully he doesn't mind that she's just blatantly got her eyes closed as she listens. It's comforting, to just sit and listen to him talk. She briefly rests her palm against the back of his knuckles before she lets her hand drop.)

Does he have children?

[ This is all very endearing, and doesn't help the definite knowledge Cain has of mentally adopting Lucretia for sure. His now, sorry. ]

He's got an adopted daughter. Holly. She's got the same ability we do, so it's sort of a work thing... more than that to him, though, thankfully.

[ More than that, but not above it. They both know that. Cain wonders briefly if Holly does. ]

(Maybe that's just fine!!)

The same ability? (Hmm. And this means that Cain is an uncle by way of adoption. Interesting.)

Where we see ghosts and the time people would die.

[ Did he not mention that? Whoops. ... It also means Cain is a great-great-grandparent by way of genetics. ]

(HE FAILED TO MENTION THAT.

Lucretia's eyes pop open.)

You what?

[ He shifts a bit, makes sure she'll stay held against him before chuckling softly. ]

It's just how it goes. Deathsight. We see ghosts and... when people should become them, essentially. It's how Enforcers can work so well.

(Lucretia just stares straight ahead for a moment, vaguely disconcerted by the whole thing.)

Okay.

That's... neat.

(She's trying to be supportive!)

[ He sighs a little in amusement. ]

It's something like that. Morbid as it sounds, you get used to it. Sorry, I didn't mean to spring it out of nowhere.

No, it's okay.

(Wait wait wait wait wait.) Have... can you tell when I'm going to die? Have you known that this whole time?

(That's... she doesn't know how to feel.)

Yes, but... telling people their time is exactly how you get Enforcers after you in the the first place. [ He hums thoughtfully. ] Everyone's given their time for a reason, even if what they do with it is up to them.

... Okay.

(This is weird.) Could... could you maybe not look at it? (It feels like an invasion of privacy some how.)

Or is it involuntary?

[ He reaches up with his free hand and taps her on the tip of her nose. ]

It's like trying not to see your nose when looking at your face.

I see.

(So Cain knows when she will die. That's... fine.)

I don't know what the situation is with Enforcers here; as in whether they are able to get through the portal or not. But in any case, I don't want to know. About when I will die, I mean.

[ Part of him wants to laugh, because there's just no way Cain will ever tell anyone their time. He can't, for his own sake. If he told someone after not telling Remus, then that's a betrayal of the deepest sort. It's also why he can't abide by others going around and abusing the power. ]

No, don't worry about it. I won't say a word.

Okay, good. No spoilers.

(She chuckles, but only to distract from how uncomfortable the whole thing makes her feel.)

How did you come about this power anyway?

Oh, it's something you're born with. Just genetics.

[ Yeah, as if something like that could ever be boiled down to just genetics. ]

Of course it is. (She has to write this down. Where's her journal; she sits up and away from him so she can find her bag.)

How come you never mentioned it up until now?

[ He lets her go, leans back into his own chair and watches her. ]

Generally, it's just the way of the world where I'm from. Some people just have it. Same for the research, it's like mentioning having really good hearing when people are looking at... different kinds of taste?

[ Cain shakes his head, shrugs lightly. ]

It's not in the same category for me. Not magic.

(She's rifling through her bag while he talks, and eventually straightens up, frustrated.)

I forgot it. (It makes sense. She'd left the house quickly, still stressed. Whoops, Cain is still talking.)

It's– wait, not magic? (That doesn't make any sense.) What is it, then?

We can talk about it later, I'll remind you to write it down then.

[ It isn't much of a mystery what she was looking for, after all. ]

No, it's just... sight. Genetic fluke, special sensitivity, whatever you want to call it.

Oh, thanks. (She looks a little surprised at this, but slowly puts her bag back down again.)

That's... strange. Um, sorry. But how do you feel about having it?

It's life.

[ Funny thing to say about seeing death, but true. ]

There's nothing special about it when it's all you've known, but knowing there's something so fragile you have access to is... a burden, if you think about it certain ways. Thankfully, you also learn better eventually.

Sure, I can understand that.

(Yes, certainly, it must weigh heavily on him to always have access to such information. Especially if he truly doesn't let anybody know– though, he hadn't said that in so many words exactly, had he?)

Have you ever told anybody?

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