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[aldhani]

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[aldhani]

It only happened to me once, so I don't know if this is always the case.

[not counting the time he'd been knocked out, had slept for days, and had woken with years' worth of memories, including his own death on scarif; that had felt different, and isn't within the scope of this conversation to address.]

After I came back, I was cold for a week. No ability to warm up, except when making physical contact with someone else.

[snaggleteeth]

[that sounds utterly miserable. yet not as concerning as he feared, oddly enough.]

Were you still yourself? Your memories, your instincts. What you loved and hated?

[dark and light. one informs the other.]

[aldhani]

I was. Nothing about me had changed, apart from that.

[just a specific kind of misery for someone who hates being cold to begin with.]

[snaggleteeth]

This old dispatch might be helpful for you. For me, it only raised as many questions as it answered. We didn't talk about souls so much, when I came from. Nor gods, in the world where I was raised.

[aldhani]

[cassian recognizes this for what it is: something beyond an apology, an acknowledgement of what he'd been willing to offer.]

I haven't made it that far back. Thank you.

[he takes time to play the message over, to digest it.]

We didn't talk about souls, either. But if this is right, it means we're trapped here, in every way possible, until they're done with us.

[his take, at least. it's not a comforting thought.]

[snaggleteeth]

[it takes 'qimir' longer than ever to respond to that one.

it's not new; by now, more than one guest has alluded to the same thing. especially the ones who've been here months and months. if not about the external conditions of their future, then the necessary coping skills for surviving here. but it means more, coming from cassian andor.]

Sounds like you can live with that.