It was strange that the mundanities of a quiet gallery were the first things to catch Sailor Bacchus’ eye, it wasn’t as though he had any shortage of ancient detritus, but the unusual pool was novel enough to draw him in. Each bit of ephemera felt strangely compelling, a bizarre turn of events considering the decided absence of any connection. Of course, it was difficult to distinguish between the disorienting sensations that accompanied the items and the outside influences that pressed unceasingly against his tired mind.
Under normal circumstances the pull they exerted would infuriate him, but it seemed as though his mind was saving that outrage for later.
Wandering toward the water with a stilted, almost mesmerized gait, the deep space senshi stared into its silver depths. Tremulous breaths betrayed the swells of unwelcome emotion within him, failing to break the surface but still roiling ******** this place.
