Yazoo scrabbled for purchase against the unstable rocks beneath his palms, knees, and belly, coughing hard as he broke the surface of awareness, and inhaled.
He couldn't remember where he'd been only that before, he'd bent under the rain alongside his brother hoping to avenge the one who'd fallen already against an older brother--against his refusal to help them find her. He remembered that feeling of rage and despair welling up inside him, from deep within, not even certain it was his own or from somewhere beyond him. So different from his usual demeanour, so solid unlike his usual fluttering and cold smiles. The charge. The attack. Being swallowed up.
But now he dragged himself across some uneven surface, so different from the building he'd been on before. Not weak as he'd been in those last moments before oblivion became now, but not strong. Not strong enough to rise to his feet, not strong enough to draw forth that elegance with which he'd carried himself before. Instead, he mused with a surge of irritation, he was simply pathetic.
It was with that thought he finally shoved himself up off his belly, the surface--natural, untouched by anything but water like the cavern it shaped--scraping at leathers as he threw his head back to scowl at... Something he couldn't name. He pushed himself back onto his knees once he found the strength, settled there in the water that flowed all around him, and simply let his gaze wander.
Crystals. Crystals like huge, jutting, hard-edged versions of the small spheres of compressed mako he and Loz and Kadaj had used once before, and this pool of water and stone. But how did he end up here? Absently, thoughtlessly, he pushed soaking wet hair away from his face as he twisted in place, shifting onto one knee to twist and broaden what he could take in from the walls he faced. Curiosity left him nearly childlike, eyes wide and scanning everything to swallow every detail despite the way his expression held fast to aloofness hardly necessary.
Rocks shifted beneath him even as Yazoo planted a hand on dry stone, still trying to understand, to see, while shuffling his way out of the water. It was in his boots, his pants, his jacket and gloves--everywhere it shouldn't be; no need to stay in it. He pressed his lips into a thin line, tearing his attention from the glimmering crystals for only a moment, the discomfort sounding with the faint squelching of water between garment and skin. He would tolerate it for now, but it was uncomfortable and irritated him in spite of his knowing full well there was no way to deal with it at the time. His hair was one thing, but under leather? Entirely another.
Delicately, his hands lifted to wring the water from his hair, catlike eyes scanning the ground beneath him once he shifted to sit properly, one foot still in the water for lack of strength to move much beyond its edge. That strength would come back, he assured himself, and he contented himself with that thought. From his new position, he faced opposite his initial vantage point, and cast his gaze about once again.
The sense of this being some kind of prison was an uncanny pressure against the back of his skull, but more than that was this... strange sense of rejection. By the Lifestream? No doubt, and with that he peered down his nose at the pool he'd dragged himself from. If only they'd been able to find Mother sooner. If only Kadaj and Loz were here, perhaps...
"Loneliness" wasn't something Yazoo'd ever been prepared to face. He could function alone, could survive well enough without Loz's backup or Kadaj's leadership. It wasn't a matter of being alone so much as it was being alone--a distinction he couldn't entirely grasp at that moment, but it strove to leave an impression without his consent. Pushing it away, he opted to settle once more and consider his options.
There was surely a way out of this place, no matter how it felt. Once out, he should seek the Reunion again, even if on his own. What else could he do? It was why any of them had been born, so far as he'd been made aware. Instinct only told so much, but their (Kadaj's) plan, Mother's plan... The remnant drew a leg beneath himself, holding himself straight as he turned his face to his shoulder; finding Mother on his own would indeed be a challenge. It wasn't as though she'd simply turn up.
