So, how much of what Professor Byleth says is true?
[He had told Byleth he'd speak to Elidibus at a more convenient hour, in an effort to confirm the veracity of his story, but in reality the message arrives not a bell after the request to speak to the involved parties was initially posted. It's absurd, utterly ridiculous - and yet he finds himself still dwelling upon it all.]
Presuming, of course, he tild you ofthe romantic and physical relationships that were shared. It was the nature of the world we had arrived within, encouraging 'positive interactions' as it was deemed.
But that version of yourself - and that of Hythlodaeus, for that matter - were different individuals. The differences are subtle, but to me remain clear as a cloudless sky.
[He's still not certain how to take all of this. In fact, a part of him was hoping that Elidibus would tell him the professor was woefully mistaken.]
He claimed that this other version of himself - and mine - were in love with one another. And that Hythlodaeus and myself were wed.
You're saying that those things truly occurred in that world?
Make no mistake, I need no reminder of who I am. But he may well be in for a world of agony if he cannot separate himself from all he has supposedly witnessed.
Elidibus, you are mistaken if you think my primary concern here is whether or not I am "being seen for the man I am".
[Byleth has already seen far too much, in his opinion. Though he will at least consider the suggestion that perhaps the professor has mixed feelings about coming by what he now knows without having been granted it by those involved. A paltry consolation, but it's something.]
[Elidibus has the right of it, of course. That is precisely the matter he is having the most difficulty coming to terms with. He himself has no recollection of anything that may have transpired within the Simulation, be it of an intimate nature or otherwise, and no control over what is done with the information that has now been revealed to other parties.]
[Never mind all the rest of it...]
[Emet-Selch doesn't reply immediately. In fact, this message is left to sit, even though it has been read. He's currently occupied preparing coffee in his kitchen, every few steps punctuated with agitated pacing. The light - and his silhouette moving back and forth beneath it - can surely be seen from the side yard.]
[He isn't certain he wants to deal with Elidibus at the moment. No doubt his friend will try to talk sense into him when all he really intends to do is stew over it a good while longer.]
[Noting that he has not received a timely reply, Elidibus knows that will likely mean it won't be coming at all. At least, not in the near future. He does happen to catch sight of Emet-Selch's pacing shadow, and steels his resolve. Usually, he would not intrude so obviously, preferring for others to keep their agency intact - after everything, he would prefer that their choices remain their own.
But presently that appears to be counter to what must be done.
So he makes his way to Emet-Selch's door and knocks, confidently and clearly. If there is still no response, he will let himself in. A meddler, as he was called in the past.]
[Augh... Must they? Must they do this right this instant?? A meddler indeed, and one who isn't especially appreciated at the moment.]
[Emet-Selch glances over his shoulder and scowls at the door with the intensity afforded his 12,000 years but does not bother to answer. Instead he continues to supervise the brewing of his coffee, his gestures lacking their usual polished grace. He's still fuming in all honesty, and it will be some hours before his ire manages to burn itself out.]
[Elidibus will simply have to let himself in, if he's going to be so bold as to interrupt him now. It isn't as if there's anything truly stopping him. And if the noises behind him persist, Emet-Selch will eventually raise his voice so that it carries behind him, steam curling from his mouth rather than the rim of his newly filled cup.]
I know why you are here, Elidibus, and I've no desire to speak further on this matter. You may kindly escort yourself out.
Politely and with patience does Elidibus wait just outside, through the silence in response to his knocking, and then through the irritated words that grace his ears even through the door. Well. That would not do, would it? Putting the conversation off will do no favors for anyone, nor will allowing Emet-Selch to stew and fester on the subject longer than he must.
Luckily for the other man, a certain Emissary was not one to give up so easily. So instead of turning around he opens the door and lets himself inside, securely shutting the door behind him.
And approaches. He is sure to keep a respectable amount of distance between the two of them, knowing how Emet-Selch will want his personal space - especially now, of all times.]
I have never been one to leave a friend to suffer alone. If you do not wish to speak of it, we will not. But nor will I leave you in clear distress.
[About what, you might ask? A great number of things, actually! Though Emet-Selch seems less than eager to drag them out into the open. Instead he huffs loud and long, and this time there is almost...certainly a hint of gray in the steam that rises from where he works, not to mention the smell of smoke - half-hidden beneath the aroma of the coffee, but present all the same.]
I suppose that next you will be insisting that you are duty-bound to remain and lend an ear until I have calmed myself to your satisfaction.
[His movements are still agitated as he summons another mug with a wave of his wrist and a too-loud clank, cursing quietly under his breath as some of the coffee spills.]
No, to be truthful. I will not be doing such a thing.
[The words that Emet-Selch says have a bite to them, though it is not directed at him personally - nor does he take them as such. No matter how his friend attempts to play down his upset, Elidibus knows better.]
I am here for you. Nothing more, nothing less. Here for you and whatever it is that you may need. If that is to spit fire at my person - literally of figuratively - I will weather what needs be done. If it is to sit in silence and provide companionship, I will do so. And yes, should you wish for an ear, I will give you mine for however long you require.
[Elidibus presses a hand to his breast, slightly frowning.]
But I assure you that this has nothing to do with duty.
[There is an irony here that doesn't quite escape him as Emet-Selch glowers across the kitchen at his colleague and ally; his brother. His friend.]
[A personal call that has nothing at all to do with their respective posts. An offer of understanding and compassion. It's the same sentiment Professor Eisner had been harping on but moments ago when he told him that the other Emet-Selch had offered as much to fill the loneliness of immortality. (For, yes, as outrageous as it all was, he had been listening quite intently throughout.)]
[Unfortunately, Emet-Selch himself isn't certain of what it is he needs. He'd thought it was time alone to come to terms with whatever this other world and the people with knowledge of it might mean for him. Instead he's locked in a staring contest of his own making...]
[He growls irritably - a sound that is entirely human - as he at last scrunches his eyes shut and lets out a long breath.]
Gggh... Why is it that all of you are like this?
[The complaint's entirely rhetorical as he regards Elidibus again, still clearly unhappy but far less on edge than he was seconds prior.]
At least take a seat if you're so insistent upon staying.
Perhaps it is because you are cared for deeply by those of us who know you well.
[But he takes care to sit, looking up at Emet-Selch now. His presence is going to be intrusive no matter what purpose it may serve, and as Emissary it would be even more so. He would always be the Emissary, that is a fact, but perhaps there is something else he can do. Actions, rather than words. Elidibus then does something that the other man would not - could not - expect.
He unclasps his mask from its place upon his breast and sets it aside.]
As Elidibus, I know you well in many different areas, and in that capacity I have come to love you more than I may possess the words to say. But it is not clad in my title I come to you, nor only limited to that capacity that I care for you.
[It is the most tender of olive branches, and he casts it towards the other man without hesitation.]
[He knows. Indeed, he knows it better than most. Yet it doesn't make such things any easier to accept. The more blatant the care, the more it makes him...uneasy. Not that he mistrusts his companions, mind, but he now knows the pain of having them ripped away. Just one of the many "gifts" that accompanied the end of their paradise.]
[Yet Elidibus is correct in his plan. It is not something Emet-Selch had expected to happen, and he openly balks as the mask is set aside. For Elidibus to do so is not insignificant in the slightest. Even though such an action isn't strictly unheard of, for their Emissary to remove it from his person completely is...rather irregular to say the least.]
[Emet-Selch makes no move to discard his own mask which yet makes a scowling red centerpiece to his otherwise black ensemble. His face is bared, as it has been since his arrival here. Surely that is enough.]
[He frowns, looking conflicted.]
...Is all of this truly necessary? Your sentiments are plain, but I do not think I can stomach yet another heart being bared before me today.
Besides, "but a man"? I really think we are well beyond that point, Themis. I've known both you and Lahabrea for most of our lives, far longer than everyone else I have ever known combined. We've a shared history, and all of the baggage that comes of it.
[Perhaps this all seems irrelevant to Themis's wishes at the moment, but within Emet-Selch's assertions, there are some rather telling clues as to the sorts of things that are yet weighing on his mind and heart.]
[A fretful grumble, but at last he slides one of the mugs towards Themis. Better to drink it before it grows too cold, after all.]
[Themis cannot help the small laugh that bubbles up from within at Emet-Selch's grousing. No, it is not his intention to bare more of himself than he currently is, and he'll set that to rights momentarily. But first, he listens. Understands. If any in this place can understand the man before him as they now are, it is him - Hythlodaeus to a point, yes, but the very nature of his long slumber gave them years that they two must bridge.
They would, he knows, if they have not already done so. Whether in this world or within the underworld of their own.
But what a shared history they have, himself and the man before him. Such strength, even still. He had borne so much alone for so long, no doubt that weighs upon him still.]
Worry not, I am baring all that I shall at present.
[Taking the mug into his hands, he makes it a point to take a long sip of the drink. An acceptance and appreciation for the gesture going unsaid but acknowledged.]
We do have a long and storied history. You are perhaps the single individual within this place - barring Erichthonios - who knows me best. It is good to know you consider me as close as I do you.
[But now he turns his eyes up to Emet. Time to cut to the heart of it all. With, of course, continuing to respect the other's wishes of leaving the Byleth situation alone.]
And despite all of our shared baggage, we yet remain to have this conversation.
[Emet-Selch clucks his tongue impatiently at him. He does not find any of this the least bit amusing, but he will allow that mayhap Themis is thinking back on some little joke to which he is not privy.]
Good.
[He says it more like a command than out of any sense of relief as he all but collapses into the seat opposite. He still appears agitated, no doubt, but his anger is well on its way to burning itself out again. Even he must admit that recent...information is far from black and white. Yet he does not offer an opening. Instead he takes a slow, fortifying sip of his coffee - the flavor proving both rich and dark, without any hint of sweetness.]
Still, what is there to consider? Whether we call it "close" or simply "surviving", it does not change the fact that we three suffered and grieved and clung to the embers of hope together. It is immutable fact; a shared experience. And one I therefore recognize.
[He recognizes that look, too, his brow furrowing at the emphasis upon those two little words.]
Aye. A conversation I remain none too pleased about, I'll have you know. Do cut to the chase, lest I perish from holding my breath overlong.
A shared experience that we have both chosen to acknowledge and allow to bring us together. All too easily can such a thing drive individuals apart, cleaving whatever bonds may have remained after all has been said and done. That to the end, you and I have both refused to give up our ideals. It is therefore important to note that your choice matters.
We both have chosen love.
[The coffee is grounding in his hands. Though he is far from wallowing in what had happened to him, there is much that underpins what he does even now. He throws himself into action, remains busy, he meddles because he must. So much action and planning for so long has left him bereft of the ability to truly sit and do nothing, even after the time he'd spent in the Simulation.
Even now he awakens before the dawn draws its' first breath from dreams turned all too easily to nightmares. No doubt what troubles him mirrors Emet-Selch's own only to a point - what he had additionally gone through was rather singular, after all - but there was enough similarities for him to understand.
Still. Now that Emet-Selch's anger, at least, has reduced marginally. Themis feels one side of his lips quirk upwards.]
I do believe that I have stated my intentions quite readily. I am here to hear you out. To be here for you. It is made more difficult, seeing as you have banned me from speaking on the topic at hand that has brought you to this state, but I will persevere regardless. Rather than know you swallow your feelings on the matter, to know you bottle them, I would hear them. Hear you.
You have my word that whatever is said will remain between us.
You needn't make it sound so painfully dramatic. But yes, had I allowed such events to wrest away that which I had been seeking to preserve, then what point would there have been at all? Emet-Selch or no, my life's purpose is theirs. I could never so easily let them go...
[But that is their people, their world. And another matter entirely. Although he can see where it links, certainly. Was that not what Byleth had been trying to do in his way? As spectacularly dreadful as the attempt may have been.]
[Emet-Selch stares into his mug, his eyes stormy as he allows the residual warmth to soak into his fingers. It doesn't help much, but it's something, at least. No one is here but them, and Hythlodaeus upstairs, perhaps. It's not as if there are any eavesdroppers waiting in the wings to use his own words against him.]
[He huffs out a sigh. While he could speak in riddles and metaphors, he is far too weary at the moment for that. Still too agitated and riled up. And so he will speak plainly so as to get this whole discussion over with.]
As I said, I am well aware that the actions and choices of the other Emet-Selch have naught to do with me, and have told Byleth as much. And yet they now affect me all the same. Whether I act on them or no, whether I deign to believe them, the account can never be unheard.
I feel...dissected. Exposed, like some novel specimen displayed under glass.
[He shakes his head in disgust.]
To think that after only a scant few years of knowing someone, I would grant them not only my true name, but personal details about myself, thoughts and emotions that I have not revealed to another soul - not to you nor Hythlodaeus. The very idea is preposterous.
[And, what? Some manner of oath? To remain at his side until he grew weary and tired of immortality and chose to return to his own star? To be granted a peaceful end? It is all simply...unfathomable. Emet-Selch is scowling again hard, his forehead aching with the weight of it - an act certainly not helped by the hard bone just beginning to protrude from where his bangs have been brushed back.]
He all but implored me to speak with you following our conversation.
[Well, it wasn't a conversation so much as it was a torrent of information and his own childish outburst, but.]
[Emet-Selch sighs again, this one long and exhausted and distinctly...uneasy.]
[Themis knows that Emet-Selch would reject any amount of touch at this present moment outright. He aches to comfort the other man in a more physical way, but that is not what he needs. Touch is something rare, something coveted when it occurs, and so rather than make contact he decides to show his support in another way.
One hand continues to curl around his mug, while the other slides across the table and remains palm-down. It is not an ask, nor is it an offer. It merely is.
A physical representation of his words to follow.]
He was right to do so. There is a single fact that you have overlooked, one which will reorganize and refocus the entirety of what has happened.
[He takes another long sip of the coffee. When he finishes, his voice grows resolute. Firm, direct, a voice of reason.]
You did none of those things. You have revealed nothing, and your secrets remain yours. The individual that was present within the Simulation was a version of Emet-Selch, Redeemer of the Convocation of Fourteen, but he was not you. The individual named Hythlodaeus that was present was not the same Hythlodaeus that has arrived in this world. The grand design of their lives was much the same as his and yours, yes, but the differences between the two of you are vital. What intimacies shared between you may not apply to you at all.
[Themis makes eye contact. His are clear, beseeching Emet-Selch - Hades - to take heed of what he says.]
Byleth pointed you to come to me because I experienced everything in that place. As you have said yourself, I know you better than almost any other. I knew you when I had lost my own name, when I had lost everything but a duty to a people I could not recall. So know, that when I say you are not him I mean it with all of me.
[One side of his lips quirk up into an aborted smile. It is not a happy smile. There is the faintest tremor in his voice when he speaks next.]
Did you know that he barely spoke to me? I loved him, as I love you, and instead of your fond acknowledgement he barely gave me the time of day. And Hythlodaeus? I do not believe he spoke more than a dozen words to me during the entirety of the years we spent within that place. We lived within the same household, and still it was thus. They wore your faces, endured your histories, but they were not you.
[He closes his eyes and takes a breath. His shoulders shake, ever so slightly. Never had he acknowledged out loud how it had troubled him so, so very much. How those so dear to him could be so cold. But this is not about him.
The feel of the mug and the table is grounding. He steadies. His eyes open again, and once more they meet with Emet-Selch's familiar golden. The traces of old hurt have been washed away once more. Themis knows that he was not at fault.]
Byleth knows that you are not him. He will not reveal anything he has remembered to anyone who does not already know. He may seek out your friendship because he knows it to be worthwhile, if you are open to such a thing. But he will not push for what he has not earned. Just as he has not attempted to do so with me, despite my having a very real history with the one whose memories he has lived.
[He has to stop himself from continuing. Let Emet-Selch absorb what he had said.]
[Themis is correct. Although Emet-Selch's head lifts just enough to indicate that he has noticed and is aware of the hand now stretched across the table, he makes no move to either take it nor brush it aside. He simply allows it - and the sentiment which inspired the act - to persist.]
[But as Themis's voice grows firm, Emet-Selch sits up straighter to listen, and meets his beseeching gaze. He has half a mind to argue against the point being made - after all he knows he did none of these things, that this other Emet-Selch's actions are no responsibility of his, that he is not beholden to the same course, the same friends, nor aught else he may have been working towards. He has told Themis this before, and several others the very same... But what proves most profound, in this moment, is hearing the ways in which they differ. Rather than a list of things they share, things which sound fantastic and highly unlikely but also somehow plausible, he and this other have now been painted in distinct contrast to one another.]
[And his brother's voice trembles. Emet-Selch's brow wrinkles at that and his attention returns to the table as Themis steadies himself again, his jaw twitching.]
[He has been distant and dismissive, surely. There have been moments where he wished not to be bothered, where he feigned disinterest, when the weight of everything became suffocating - but to go about his day-to-day as if one of his own scarcely existed at all... anger flares deep within his breast. Although Themis is displaying grace about it all, his pain at the rejection is amply clear.]
Sounds like a real genial soul, this man, who lacked the courtesy of even a few simple words to those who shared his abode.
[There's much more he could say, but perhaps more importantly the swirl of thoughts and agitation are beginning to sort themselves out, to settle into something manageable. Not that the agitation is abating, precisely, but there is no question that his friend here speaks the truth. It's with a certain levity that Emet-Selch lays his own arm flat across the other side of the table, clearly nowhere near the other, but a matching gesture all the same. He offers his companion a pointed look.]
Fortunately, I've grown used to your overachieving nature as well as your fervent (and ofttimes embarrassing) declarations of love and goodwill. Whatever lingering concerns you may hold about that, you may safely put from your mind.
As for Byleth... do not expect me to go easy on him if he finds that he cannot hold his tongue. While he has thus far proven to be an inoffensive if inquisitive sort, he does not seem to know when it is appropriate to cease speaking.
But the man's efforts are hardly meant to be cruel, as I'm certain you will agree.
[Hythlodaeus's tone remains light as ever as he descends the stairs, but there is a tiredness to his eyes and a weakness to his smile that betrays the truth of his thoughts as of late--an unceasing and relentless storm of anxious confusion that has yet to abate.]
My apologies. While it was not my intent to eavesdrop, I couldn't help but overhear.
[A knot of coiled tension that Themis not been aware of releases as Emet-Selch speaks, as he responds to what he has to say. It slides down his spine and slips free, leaving him suffused with warmth and feeling slightly boneless - slightly listless. The mirrored reach of his hand causes his eyes to burn.
But tears do not fall. No, it is happiness that fills him fit to burst.
He had not been concerned, not really. But now he knew to never entertain the idea at all. Themis would always be himself, this was an aspect he had learned to embrace fully, that he would not change who he was - and to know that it would be accepted fully? Regardless of the slight put-upon tone - a farce, he knew - it sufficed him with so much joy. That he could express himself and extend his hand and have it grasped in turn.
A nod is his response to Emet-Selch's words about Byleth. It is a reasonable conclusion to make.]
He reminds me of our mutual friend in that way-
[Then Hythlodaeus makes himself known, and Themis straightens in his chair. He had known it was a possibility that the man could have been home, but to have that confirmed - and there is the confirmation that he had heard all that Themis had said to Emet-Selch. Well.
He did not hold himself back from Hades, nor would he do so with his other friend.]
No, his intentions and actions are only for the well-being of others, I assure you. Though, perhaps clumsily done. I would forgive such things considering the confusion and chaos his mind must have been thrown into.
[With a last lingering look towards Emet-Selch, Themis turns now towards Hythlodaeus.
Stands. Closes the distance between them.
And pulls his friend into a supportive, warm embrace. He had missed him oh, so very much, those memories of cold reception cannot touch Themis in this moment.]
What I had offered Emet-Selch, I offer now to you, my dearest friend. Whatever you may need, I am here for you.
[Oh, of course... Emet-Selch lets out a sigh, but cannot find it within himself to be surprised. After all, he's made little effort to be discreet about his recent temper, and Hythlodaeus surely would have heard - if not seen - the two of them having a conversation in their kitchen. He glances up, taking in the distinct...weariness upon Hythlodaeus's visage despite his usual agreeable delivery.]
I was beginning to wonder when you might make your appearance. Let me guess. He gave you an earful as well.
[He makes to rise, vacating his chair to prepare a third cup of coffee, and perhaps enough excess to refill the others, his gaze returning to Themis.]
And perhaps. Odd, but hardly cruel. He seemed quite intent on breaking bread with me at the festival. I can only assume this was before the...pond incident. Even went back to bring me a straw of his own volition.
[He says it all with a certain dismissiveness, but anyone who knows him well (as they both do) can no doubt parse that the fact Emet-Selch has made note of these things means that they left an impression upon him in the first place.]
[In the meantime, he will grant his friends their moment. No doubt they could both benefit from the warmth of a friendly embrace. And when they are finished, should Hythlodaeus choose to slide into the chair he only just vacated, he will find that it's still warm. Emet-Selch can always pull up another.]
[Hythlodaeus cannot help but startle at the sudden display of affection--a rarity among their people, to put it lightly. And yet...
And yet it is a welcome one, a steadying presence in the swirling seas of his mind. As he had done with the whole of them when they all were yet one. The blessing and the curse that only they two know.]
Dearest friend... And here I thought that might be Ericthonios.
[A little levity, a gift, and a hand on his shoulder to know that he is appreciated.]
I've heard my share from the man, though 'tis not wholly his words that have given me pause.
[He glances down at Elidibus--Themis--and then to Hades in the kitchen, and... hesitates. Hades knows his worries well, for they had spoken of them some time ago. But Themis... Would this serve only to bring up old wounds?
The waters should be tested first, he decides, and he turns his gaze back to Themis, ever gauging his reactions.]
I'm still attempting to grow used to all of this, I suppose. While I've never been one to shy away from new experiences, this talk of dragons and other worlds and other selves still comes a greater shock than I expected.
And here I thought I was your dearest friend, Themis.
[He interjects from the kitchen, though there's the barest hint of amusement in his cadence as he continues his work with far more measured motions than he employed earlier. A little extra levity, and perhaps silent acknowledgment that though he will not interrupt them unnecessarily, he's still paying keen attention.]
[When Themis pulls from Hythlodaeus's reach the look he shoots at Emet-Selch is almost a perfect replica of one that may be found on the other's face. So, too, is the exaggerated sigh he heaves, fully put-upon as he slides back into the chair he'd vacated. The way his eyes practically glitter show his true feelings - the mirth that he's holding within his breast, the affection and amusement that run thick.
Then he quirks a brow up, looking between the two of them.]
Though if we are to question the titles of 'dearest friend,' I must point out the glaring hypocrisy of maintaining it between the two of you as well as our own mutual friend of Azem. If, of course, we are to consider that an individual may only be possessed of one such friend - which is a belief I do not aspire to hold.
[He winks.]
If we are to be exact, Erichthonios would be my dearest fiancé amongst other things.
[While he does not sober, Themis's features settle in to an easy smile. This feels good. Feels right. But he did catch on to Hythlodaeus's testing of the waters.
Though not entirely sure of the exact nature of the man's thoughts he knows how to cast his net wide. He had far more time than the two of them to come to terms with the idea of choices made and not, of separate existences.]
I suspect that it would be shock indeed. It was partially due to the nature of my previous location - the one Byleth speaks of - that allowed me an easier time of it. Though I must admit living in a physical form and being free from emotional and mental manipulation is far preferable.
[Hythlodaeus hides his amusement behind his hand, shoulders shaking.]
A judgment only fitting of the esteemed Elidibus himself. I shall endeavor to be more specific in the future. My dearest, adventurous friend and my dearest, dourest friend, mayhap?
I will need some time for yourself, of course. My dearest, most engaged friend will only be fitting for so long.
[His smile comes easier, yet falters by the end of Themis's short explanation of his previous circumstances.]
...Aye, I imagine it would be.
['Tis little wonder he's adjusted to all this so much easier than Hythlodaeus has.]
[A dismayed exclamation can be heard from the kitchen as Emet-Selch is fixed with that look that so mirrors his own, all bluster and mock offense. For an old man, Elidibus, you certainly are a cheeky devil! But he will let this one slide, seeing as it has managed to set his first friend to giggling openly.]
[He grumbles audibly, making sure the both of them can make out what he says next, even if it's a blatant misrepresentation of how he truly feels.]
The entire lot of you are utterly and unendingly incorrigible! If only I could determine which of you is more so and whom among you is the most tolerable thorn in my side.
[Dourest friend, indeed!]
[It's as Hythlodaeus falls quiet again that Emet-Selch returns, placing a freshly steaming mug upon the table nearest him and seating himself at another edge of the table between the two. This time he has also returned with a pot of the remaining coffee. Any cream or milk will simply have to be requested.]
Indeed. Despite the general unpleasantness of our draconic transformations, what we have remains our own. Now is the time to determine what role it is we wish to play within the grand scheme of things and to discover what we can - so that we are all prepared for whatever lies ahead.
[While he had respected Emet-Selch's need for him to not make physical contact, it is clear that Hythlodaeus is nothing of that same sort. Themis pours himself more coffee and slides the pot over towards the other two. A long sip does much to warm him physically to match the way his friends have done so emotionally, taking it black this time. The bitterness is bracing, and does him good.
Then, he reaches his free hand out to rest it upon Hythlodaeus's arm. His fingers curl gently, to support and ground.]
I could perhaps be your dearest, shortest friend?
[He grins as he says it, taking the easy joke at his own expense for what it is. Slight pressure with his fingertips follow.]
Emet-Selch is correct in his statements. But it is important to recognize that none of us are alone in this. You are yourselves, none other, and you are not alone. Whatever it is you may need, I am here for you. I will be here for you. However you decide that support may be, whatever you need, I will see it through.
Edited (forgot an entire sentence) 2024-11-23 07:28 (UTC)
[Both Hades and Themis's quips bring another laugh to his lips. It warms him, chases away that pit in his stomach for a time. And even when it returns, it is lighter than it was before. Something that seems surmountable, if still terribly daunting.]
You are not wrong. And I truly am blessed for your presence--for both your presence. And the presence of still more. Though...
[He summons a small carafe of cream and a bowl of sugar with the wave of his hand and sets about to pouring himself a cup of coffee.]
Emet-Selch is somewhat closer to the mark with my worries, I confess--mayhap because 'tis a subject we have already discussed. Or... "touched on," I suppose would be more accurate. Byleth's account was a shocking one, yes, but 'twas the man's reaction to it all that left more a mark.
[He finishes stirring in the sugar and sets the spoon to the side, then takes the cup in hand, clinging to it like a lifeline.]
"I don't know where I end and the other Byleth begins," the man said. A... familiar feeling for Themis and myself both, I imagine.
[Emet-Selch, for his part, has settled into a comfortable but attentive silence, content to listen and watch as the other two speak. While he still has much to think about, yes, any lingering uncertainties he harbors with regard to the Byleth situation are trivial at best. Yet as for this new direction... Emet-Selch pauses as he lowers his mug. He'll put a pin in this for later, for the next time he and the professor come face-to-face, but-]
[Something the two of them can relate to, hmn?]
[He frowns, feeling the hollow chill of an old, unrelenting ache that threatens to creep back into his heart despite the fortifying warmth of strong coffee and familiar company.]
This isn't solely about the dragons, is it? You refer to your time within Zodiark, or so I assume.
Aye. Though given that this may be somewhat of a diversion to the topic at hand--and that I am an intruder to your conversation, purposefully or no--I would be more than understanding should you prefer to avoid such concerns. 'Tis hardly any trouble.
Did you require a written invitation? I'd have thought the tender embrace would have served to alleviate any doubts you had about whether you are welcome in our kitchen.
[Emet-Selch sighs heavily.]
Besides, what is a conversation if not a series of diversions strung together and debated between friends?
Your concerns are just as valid as mine are, if not more so. And I will be the first to assure you that Themis here is not about to take his leave now that you have presented them. That's why he has let himself in, after all.
[He glances across the table at Themis. Clearly he's far more equipped to address Hythlodaeus's concerns than he is.]
Though if you would prefer that I grant the two of you some privacy...
[He doesn't intend to leave, but the offer is there if Hythlodaeus will feel more comfortable discussing such things in private with another who has experienced them. Rare is it for Hythlodaeus to admit that he is troubled, and Emet-Selch would prefer that he have the opportunity to air his concerns one way or another, even if he doesn't get to be a part of that process.]
[The floor comes to him, as it so often has in the past. He finds himself brought back to golden walls and a circle of chairs adorned with friends. Though the name used is different, how often has Emet-Selch passed discussion to him in that warm, welcoming place? It's far too easy to draw the parallels now.
Warm coffee. Good friends. A home shared.
That cold time where he was both alone and made many is easier to stave off, now, when he is so close to those he loves. He knows that of which Hythlodaeus speaks all too well. Their situations and experiences were markedly different but ultimately came to the same conclusion.
The loss of the self.
When he speaks it's with a laugh in his voice and fondness in his eyes.]
You both are so alike, offering to leave so readily in order to spare the other. I, for one, would speak with you both here. It will bring no further harm to my psyche to speak on my experience with friends - my dreams do that well enough.
[Memories mixed with dreams. A foreign face where his should be in the mirror - but when he attempts to remember his own, it slips through his fingers. People whose identity catches in his throat, leaving him only with the idea that he loves them enough to keep going. One foot after the other, shedding himself piece by piece. For love.
He shakes his head and turns towards Hythlodaeus.]
The path I walked is no doubt different from your own, thrust to the fore as I was. My awareness was ceaseless in that I lacked any capacity to lose sight of what we had given of ourselves to achieve. But in that clarity, I was ever aware of each and every voice that had joined with mine, a choir made of the initial sacrifice as well as the subsequent joining. It was...
[He trails off, looking over now towards Emet-Selch.]
[Elidibus is not wrong, but truth be told, Hythlodaeus had wondered if he need spare Elidibus as well. He had slept those 12,000 years away, but Themis... Both time and the Many had taken much from him leading up to his death.
He would have understood completely if Elidibus had preferred to leave such things behind, to open those wounds up another day, if ever again.
But still he speaks, and Hythlodaeus inclines his head as he listens, the edge of his cup hovering near his lips, the heat and scent grounding him to this world even as Elidibus's world brings him back to their own.]
...Indeed. Though nowhere near the extent that you must have felt, I... I too remember the edges of my "self" fraying. Wholly myself at one moment, and one amongst the mourning many the next. My hope, their grief, and a thousand, thousand wishes besides...
That you managed to cling to aught of yourself for any period of time after is nothing short of astounding.
['Alike...?? he wonders to himself. 'Spare the other?']
[Well, perhaps.]
[Emet-Selch meets that steady blue gaze, but for the moment, he says nothing. After all, his experiences, too, are markedly different. Where they had feared losing themselves, he instead had been left to watch as those around him began to wane, piece by piece chipping away until naught but duty remained.]
[His had been the burden of remembering. Family, friends, loved ones, names and faces all... as they began to slip from Lahabrea and Elidibus's grasp, Emet-Selch had taken the burden upon his own shoulders. His nightmare had been the heavy, ceaseless plod of time, the fear of failure, cracking beneath the weight of such precious cargo; losing them. Losing everything where those he held dear already had. And oh he had mourned each minute detail as it sifted through his fingers, his vision a final bastion for them all. He had held the hopes and the dreams, and the despairs of many, empowered by the fallen souls of their people.]
[Like them, he too had felt a pull urging him ever forward, bound by duty and cognizant of Zodiark's will. But not quite in the way they describe. This choir of which they speak he will never know as intimately as they do. To him, that song is synonymous with the voice of their Dark Lord.]
It wore thin, after a time, the walls between ourselves and those that clamored beside us. So long of hearing their voices it is no wonder that it was difficult to discern my own. Had it been but a few, I believe I would have been able to hold fast to the rest of me, but with so many? The outcome was certain from the start. But my ability to last as long as I did is not so strange, when one considers who I am. Who I have always been.
[The intensity some had teased him for. That eagerness and sincerity in everything he did. The way he loved so thoroughly and deeply that he never knew what to do with himself, turbulent oceans beneath a placid surface. It had saved him, in the end.
His fingers press gently into Hythlodaeus's arm, a comfort for the both of them.]
Some part of me is glad that I may share in the experience with another. That we may draw strength and support from that which we both understand - though in the same breath I wish you be free of it.
[Never would he wish for his own comfort at the detriment to another. If he could take the memories and pain from his friend and suffer alone, he would do it in an instant. Better that he can't.
His free hand slides across the table towards Emet-Selch in a familiar motion, leaving it there. He sees you, Hades. He refuses to let you suffer in silence.]
But we remain. Our experiences have changed us, yes, but I believe that down to your core you remain yourself. Think back to the man you were when you stumbled upon me at the Capital, daydreaming about the events of Pandaemonium. The man you were whilst you adventured in Elpis. Would you, now, make any choices different to those he would have made?
[He holds tight to the sensation, grounding as it is, and takes a moment to mull the question over. It isn't an easy one to answer--far from it. With every recollection comes every regret, the steps he could have taken if he knew this or that, and the possible futures that could have come up as a result of those choices besides.]
...Nay. I don't believe I would.
[He isn't wholly certain of that fact, but neither does he believe it possible to be certain.]
Regardless of what occurred, all that I did, I did in the belief that I might provide the path to a brighter future for those that I love. And while it may not have happened the way I intended, in the end, that did come to pass.
[A beautiful star brimming with possibility for those who came after.]
[Again Emet-Selch acknowledges the offering with a glance, yet he does not move to take it. Perhaps he can do one better after this discussion comes to an end, but for now he simply crosses his arms. He doesn't seem angry exactly, nor does he seem particularly upset. Merely thinking, considering their words.]
[Well. Perhaps it is better that such a question was not posed of him. Unlike Hythlodaeus, his answer is not so charitable. He is the same man, yes, but in many ways he is forever changed. Oh, his convictions remain ever true, but the eons have afforded him much to ponder, much to weep over and regret, challenged his sense of morality and what is good and just and necessary in such a way that even he was surprised at the results. The Emet-Selch who had implored Hythlodaeus journey with him to Elpis in search of Hermes and the Emet-Selch who dutifully stood outside the counsel hall an hour early each and every morning could not have fathomed what had come to pass nor the many things he had wrought with his own hands. How can he say that his choices would be the very same with the knowledge he now wields?]
[But that is his own burden to bear. The question of whether he would do it all again in exactly the same manner one for himself to uncover. At least, he thinks, there is now one choice he cannot make the mistake of wresting from another's grasp.]
I expected as much, coming from you.
[Back then, even as he had pleaded, he knew. Whilst skirting around doing the unconscionable thing and disregarding the Convocation's own directive, Emet-Selch had sought to appeal to his friend; to change his mind. But Hythlodaeus's answer would remained been the same irregardless. Selfless to the very end and so full of faith.]
In the end, we each followed the path we deemed necessary. Who can truly say what may have occurred had our choices erred? Whether the resulting world would have been better or worse for it, whether the day would have been won or lost, or if we might have ended up exactly as we are now. Our choices are our own, yet the course of our star is a complex weave.
At least we have arrived at a conclusion we can live with - such as it is. One in which you are yourselves and no one else, with a whole new procession of choices to make on your own behalves.
[It is a conclusion Themis had needed to make on his own. Had done so, during those last events of Pandaemonium, spurred on though he was by Athena's meddling. But he meant what he had said to their friend, their Hero - he was not burdened by regrets. How could he? When their goal had been realized. In a way that was not, perhaps, their original aim.
Hythlodaeus was correct. And so was Emet-Selch.]
Exactly, my dearest Emet-Selch. No matter the choices of others in differing realities, of experiences that blended the line between us and another, we are yet ourselves. Changed, yes. But change is not a thing to necessarily fear.
[He smiles, warm and bright. The air around him seems lighter, somehow, despite the sharing of burdens. As if a weight has lifted off. Arms pulling back, he takes his coffee with both hands and takes a long sip of the still-warm drink. The warmth that he feels within has nothing to do with the beverage he's drinking.
It's written all over his face. In his eyes.]
Thank you, both of you, for allowing me to be here and speak with you. To accept what I may give. It is all too tempting to withdraw and deal with one's troubles alone, to not burden others with the weight of what you have endured. A singular failing, I admit, that I myself am not immune to.
[A shrug is given at the admission. Themis has been better lately at it, but he will recognize his own faults.]
It is my hope that your troubles have been eased, if only by the smallest of fractions.
While I cannot speak for Emet-Selch, for myself they have indeed--and by more than a fraction at that.
[Not wholly, for some sense of unease will always remain until he grows used to that unfamiliar hue attached to his own, but it does not seem nearly so daunting now.
If Elidibus, he who was nearly swallowed by His and Their expectations can remain steadfast and even positive in a time like this, he himself cannot help but feel positive towards their futures as well.]
Though for all the thanks you give to us, I feel as though I should be the one extending them to you. As ever, you have proven yourself to be nothing short of an exemplary Emissary.
[And with the slightest twitch of the corners of his lips...]
Why, I would go so far as to say that Emet-Selch's brow may go uncreased for a full bell even after your departure.
There you go, giving him unrealistic expectations.
[Emet-Selch's eyes narrow in Hythlodaeus's direction before he takes another sip from his own mug, his attention returning to Themis once more.]
We all know that this brow of mine is not like to go uncreased for any duration in future, especially now when they've two extra appendages to hold aloft. Alas, my gratitude will have to suffice, as well as a reminder that I am here should either of your burdens begin to pile up again.
Prompto always loves it when Elidibus invites him over.
It isn't that he needs an invite to go see his boyfriend. The blond often loves to swing by his home just to see that big, delighted smile from the surprise of it all. But there is something that sets his heart fluttering whenever he gets a message asking for his presence. Elidibus has a sweet, romantic way about him that leaves Prompto always trying to guess what the Ancient has prepared for their next outing together. It is not often that the sunshine boy himself gets to bask in the warmth of another sun.
It is from one such invitation that Prompto finds himself knocking on Elidibus' front door with a wide grin on his face. "Hey! Heyyy! C'mon, we got places to go! Soooo many dates to catch up on!"
Themis cannot help himself when confronted with the warmth of Prompto's smile. He rarely can when confronted with Prompto himself in the first place, leaning in to press his lips to a corner of that familiar grin, pulling the blonde into a brief but exuberant hug. As much as he would like to linger, his partner does have a point. Now that the weather is not entirely unforgiving they can actually venture outside.
"Yes, yes, I will not keep us overlong, no matter how I wish to just look at you." Spending hours staring at his partner does, actually, sound like a good date for Themis. But he had promised more.
Out in the sunlight Prompto's hair looks practically gilded in the light. It catches the sun much like Themis's own does - moonlight instead of sunshine - but the true shine is the energy that the two of them give off. A feedback loop that Themis does not believe he will every grow weary of, energy begetting energy, a binary star system whirling through the cosmos and picking up momentum. The journey is made almost on autopilot with how much attention he's giving Prompto, but his feet do not lead them astray.
"We are here. I had thought this scenery would appeal to your artist's eye," spoken with a smile and an arm sweeping out to show the view. A small hill terminates gently into a shallow stream, the banks of which are lined on the near side with long, soft grass that has been cleared of snow and coaxed into greenery, the far side dominated by a massive willow that sways gently in the breeze. The temperature here is just warm enough to be comfortable, the brisk air still refreshing.
A call comes in from a tired-looking young mage somewhere in the snowy forest. Mithrun is also there, looking even more tired than both Popp right now and his own average. He's floppily leaning on Popp for support.
Popp sounds more abashed than truly distressed, and just a little bit whiny. He knows Themis is extremely busy with all of the everything, but also... look, Popp is part of the everything dear to him at this point!
"I can't get my Zoom spell to work with the snow changing how everything looks, can you show me exactly what the town looks like outside right now?"
The images of the outskirts of town move by swiftly on Elidibus's end and yet are accompanied by no footsteps. Instead comes the unmistakable sound of a flap of wings, and abruptly the scene changes direction, rocketing upwards directly into the falling snow. It pivots, Elidibus clearly leveling off to hover in place - the sound of his breath in exertion comes now.
He pans over the town from above, giving Popp ample time to take in the details as best as he can with the falling snow. The vantage point is quite the good one.
"Does that suit your needs?" finally Themis himself comes into view, wings lazily beating to hold him in place.
He's sheepish but so grateful for the fresh crisp references, and nods along as a full picture of the town as it is appears in his mind.
"Oh yeah, that's perfect!"
Without further warning, Popp's side of the communication blurs from incredible speed. Another drawback of Zoom is the lack of precise steering and he's focusing on Themis as well as the landscape. It's a near miss as he shoots down out of the sky like a falling star at a steep angle, close enough that the wind from his passage whips Elidibus' long hair around. Close enough that they show up in each other's rock images at the same time for a split second.
His end of the scrying spins and settles on an upwards view of the winter skies when he hits a relatively soft landing comprised of snowy buildup and also someone's perfectly good hydrangeas. Those are going to look pretty shabby once spring hits!
Well. That certainly was quite the performance. Elidibus cranes his neck downwards to get eyes on Popp, spotting him and shutting off his rock feed. He descends far more gracefully than Popp had, landing in the clear spot directly next to the now-battered hydrangeas.
Elidibus startles into bright peals of laughter. It's a welcome sound in the middle of everything that is happening.
"Oh, dear Popp, I had meant my camerawork!"
The sprawled image of Popp, now defensive and grumpy, is so incredibly silly - such a jarring change to the rest of the day. When his laughter dies down, he offers a hand to the both of them to pull them up. Mithrun will continue to not participate in the conversation.
Popp's face is already flushed red from the cold, and it gets another subtle layer of flush under it. He protests indignantly from the ground during the course of the laughing fit, though not in a way that implies he's been cut deep to the dignity, merely bruised, and accepts the hand up with grace.
"...Maybe you should hang onto him. He's totally out of magic power, which means that he's basically a sack of flour that breathes."
"Back home to warm up, of course! I've still got plenty of magic power, but that won't do me any good if I'm worn out and frozen solid!"
Popp tucks his hands under his arms for warmth and emphasis. He can be very practical when he's not stressed, which is less often than he would prefer.
Elidibus eyes him as if he's thinking of sparing some energy for some cold resistance magic, but thinks better of it. He will need it for the remainder of his patrol.
"Need you aught else before I return Mithrun to his home?"
"Nah - just call me if you run into trouble, got it?"
Obviously, their power levels are kind of... look, Popp feels better for having made the offer, all right? Face red from the cold and maybe a little from embarrassment, he rockets off into the sky again. Of course he's not going any slower; how else is he going to learn how to land at this speed?
He has barely enough time to get the words out before Popp is off like a gunshot. Despite the situation around Town, Elidibus cannot help but smile to himself, hefting Mithrun up to begin his own journey to get him somewhere safe. A detour from his patrol route, but a worthwhile one.
Because now if Popp needs him again, he knows that Elidibus will answer.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
[text] Following Byleth's Revelations
[He had told Byleth he'd speak to Elidibus at a more convenient hour, in an effort to confirm the veracity of his story, but in reality the message arrives not a bell after the request to speak to the involved parties was initially posted. It's absurd, utterly ridiculous - and yet he finds himself still dwelling upon it all.]
[Text]
Presuming, of course, he tild you ofthe romantic and physical relationships that were shared. It was the nature of the world we had arrived within, encouraging 'positive interactions' as it was deemed.
But that version of yourself - and that of Hythlodaeus, for that matter - were different individuals. The differences are subtle, but to me remain clear as a cloudless sky.
[Text]
He claimed that this other version of himself - and mine - were in love with one another. And that Hythlodaeus and myself were wed.
You're saying that those things truly occurred in that world?
Make no mistake, I need no reminder of who I am. But he may well be in for a world of agony if he cannot separate himself from all he has supposedly witnessed.
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Considering his interactions with myself, I do believe he will be able to see you for the man you are.
I believe much of his distress is to now be in possession of private details of our histories - ones that have not given to him personally.
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[Byleth has already seen far too much, in his opinion. Though he will at least consider the suggestion that perhaps the professor has mixed feelings about coming by what he now knows without having been granted it by those involved. A paltry consolation, but it's something.]
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Especially considering that you had no choice in the matter. It is why, regardless of all else, I respect your agency. Others' as well.
Where are you, at present? Are you within your home?
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[Never mind all the rest of it...]
[Emet-Selch doesn't reply immediately. In fact, this message is left to sit, even though it has been read. He's currently occupied preparing coffee in his kitchen, every few steps punctuated with agitated pacing. The light - and his silhouette moving back and forth beneath it - can surely be seen from the side yard.]
[He isn't certain he wants to deal with Elidibus at the moment. No doubt his friend will try to talk sense into him when all he really intends to do is stew over it a good while longer.]
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But presently that appears to be counter to what must be done.
So he makes his way to Emet-Selch's door and knocks, confidently and clearly. If there is still no response, he will let himself in. A meddler, as he was called in the past.]
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[Emet-Selch glances over his shoulder and scowls at the door with the intensity afforded his 12,000 years but does not bother to answer. Instead he continues to supervise the brewing of his coffee, his gestures lacking their usual polished grace. He's still fuming in all honesty, and it will be some hours before his ire manages to burn itself out.]
[Elidibus will simply have to let himself in, if he's going to be so bold as to interrupt him now. It isn't as if there's anything truly stopping him. And if the noises behind him persist, Emet-Selch will eventually raise his voice so that it carries behind him, steam curling from his mouth rather than the rim of his newly filled cup.]
I know why you are here, Elidibus, and I've no desire to speak further on this matter. You may kindly escort yourself out.
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Politely and with patience does Elidibus wait just outside, through the silence in response to his knocking, and then through the irritated words that grace his ears even through the door. Well. That would not do, would it? Putting the conversation off will do no favors for anyone, nor will allowing Emet-Selch to stew and fester on the subject longer than he must.
Luckily for the other man, a certain Emissary was not one to give up so easily. So instead of turning around he opens the door and lets himself inside, securely shutting the door behind him.
And approaches. He is sure to keep a respectable amount of distance between the two of them, knowing how Emet-Selch will want his personal space - especially now, of all times.]
I have never been one to leave a friend to suffer alone. If you do not wish to speak of it, we will not. But nor will I leave you in clear distress.
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[About what, you might ask? A great number of things, actually! Though Emet-Selch seems less than eager to drag them out into the open. Instead he huffs loud and long, and this time there is almost...certainly a hint of gray in the steam that rises from where he works, not to mention the smell of smoke - half-hidden beneath the aroma of the coffee, but present all the same.]
I suppose that next you will be insisting that you are duty-bound to remain and lend an ear until I have calmed myself to your satisfaction.
[His movements are still agitated as he summons another mug with a wave of his wrist and a too-loud clank, cursing quietly under his breath as some of the coffee spills.]
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[The words that Emet-Selch says have a bite to them, though it is not directed at him personally - nor does he take them as such. No matter how his friend attempts to play down his upset, Elidibus knows better.]
I am here for you. Nothing more, nothing less. Here for you and whatever it is that you may need. If that is to spit fire at my person - literally of figuratively - I will weather what needs be done. If it is to sit in silence and provide companionship, I will do so. And yes, should you wish for an ear, I will give you mine for however long you require.
[Elidibus presses a hand to his breast, slightly frowning.]
But I assure you that this has nothing to do with duty.
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[A personal call that has nothing at all to do with their respective posts. An offer of understanding and compassion. It's the same sentiment Professor Eisner had been harping on but moments ago when he told him that the other Emet-Selch had offered as much to fill the loneliness of immortality. (For, yes, as outrageous as it all was, he had been listening quite intently throughout.)]
[Unfortunately, Emet-Selch himself isn't certain of what it is he needs. He'd thought it was time alone to come to terms with whatever this other world and the people with knowledge of it might mean for him. Instead he's locked in a staring contest of his own making...]
[He growls irritably - a sound that is entirely human - as he at last scrunches his eyes shut and lets out a long breath.]
Gggh... Why is it that all of you are like this?
[The complaint's entirely rhetorical as he regards Elidibus again, still clearly unhappy but far less on edge than he was seconds prior.]
At least take a seat if you're so insistent upon staying.
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[But he takes care to sit, looking up at Emet-Selch now. His presence is going to be intrusive no matter what purpose it may serve, and as Emissary it would be even more so. He would always be the Emissary, that is a fact, but perhaps there is something else he can do. Actions, rather than words. Elidibus then does something that the other man would not - could not - expect.
He unclasps his mask from its place upon his breast and sets it aside.]
As Elidibus, I know you well in many different areas, and in that capacity I have come to love you more than I may possess the words to say. But it is not clad in my title I come to you, nor only limited to that capacity that I care for you.
[It is the most tender of olive branches, and he casts it towards the other man without hesitation.]
I come to you as but a man, as Themis.
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[Yet Elidibus is correct in his plan. It is not something Emet-Selch had expected to happen, and he openly balks as the mask is set aside. For Elidibus to do so is not insignificant in the slightest. Even though such an action isn't strictly unheard of, for their Emissary to remove it from his person completely is...rather irregular to say the least.]
[Emet-Selch makes no move to discard his own mask which yet makes a scowling red centerpiece to his otherwise black ensemble. His face is bared, as it has been since his arrival here. Surely that is enough.]
[He frowns, looking conflicted.]
...Is all of this truly necessary? Your sentiments are plain, but I do not think I can stomach yet another heart being bared before me today.
Besides, "but a man"? I really think we are well beyond that point, Themis.
I've known both you and Lahabrea for most of our lives, far longer than everyone else I have ever known combined. We've a shared history, and all of the baggage that comes of it.
[Perhaps this all seems irrelevant to Themis's wishes at the moment, but within Emet-Selch's assertions, there are some rather telling clues as to the sorts of things that are yet weighing on his mind and heart.]
[A fretful grumble, but at last he slides one of the mugs towards Themis. Better to drink it before it grows too cold, after all.]
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They would, he knows, if they have not already done so. Whether in this world or within the underworld of their own.
But what a shared history they have, himself and the man before him. Such strength, even still. He had borne so much alone for so long, no doubt that weighs upon him still.]
Worry not, I am baring all that I shall at present.
[Taking the mug into his hands, he makes it a point to take a long sip of the drink. An acceptance and appreciation for the gesture going unsaid but acknowledged.]
We do have a long and storied history. You are perhaps the single individual within this place - barring Erichthonios - who knows me best. It is good to know you consider me as close as I do you.
[But now he turns his eyes up to Emet. Time to cut to the heart of it all. With, of course, continuing to respect the other's wishes of leaving the Byleth situation alone.]
And despite all of our shared baggage, we yet remain to have this conversation.
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Good.
[He says it more like a command than out of any sense of relief as he all but collapses into the seat opposite. He still appears agitated, no doubt, but his anger is well on its way to burning itself out again. Even he must admit that recent...information is far from black and white. Yet he does not offer an opening. Instead he takes a slow, fortifying sip of his coffee - the flavor proving both rich and dark, without any hint of sweetness.]
Still, what is there to consider? Whether we call it "close" or simply "surviving", it does not change the fact that we three suffered and grieved and clung to the embers of hope together. It is immutable fact; a shared experience. And one I therefore recognize.
[He recognizes that look, too, his brow furrowing at the emphasis upon those two little words.]
Aye. A conversation I remain none too pleased about, I'll have you know. Do cut to the chase, lest I perish from holding my breath overlong.
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We both have chosen love.
[The coffee is grounding in his hands. Though he is far from wallowing in what had happened to him, there is much that underpins what he does even now. He throws himself into action, remains busy, he meddles because he must. So much action and planning for so long has left him bereft of the ability to truly sit and do nothing, even after the time he'd spent in the Simulation.
Even now he awakens before the dawn draws its' first breath from dreams turned all too easily to nightmares. No doubt what troubles him mirrors Emet-Selch's own only to a point - what he had additionally gone through was rather singular, after all - but there was enough similarities for him to understand.
Still. Now that Emet-Selch's anger, at least, has reduced marginally. Themis feels one side of his lips quirk upwards.]
I do believe that I have stated my intentions quite readily. I am here to hear you out. To be here for you. It is made more difficult, seeing as you have banned me from speaking on the topic at hand that has brought you to this state, but I will persevere regardless. Rather than know you swallow your feelings on the matter, to know you bottle them, I would hear them. Hear you.
You have my word that whatever is said will remain between us.
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[But that is their people, their world. And another matter entirely. Although he can see where it links, certainly. Was that not what Byleth had been trying to do in his way? As spectacularly dreadful as the attempt may have been.]
[Emet-Selch stares into his mug, his eyes stormy as he allows the residual warmth to soak into his fingers. It doesn't help much, but it's something, at least. No one is here but them, and Hythlodaeus upstairs, perhaps. It's not as if there are any eavesdroppers waiting in the wings to use his own words against him.]
[He huffs out a sigh. While he could speak in riddles and metaphors, he is far too weary at the moment for that. Still too agitated and riled up. And so he will speak plainly so as to get this whole discussion over with.]
As I said, I am well aware that the actions and choices of the other Emet-Selch have naught to do with me, and have told Byleth as much. And yet they now affect me all the same. Whether I act on them or no, whether I deign to believe them, the account can never be unheard.
I feel...dissected. Exposed, like some novel specimen displayed under glass.
[He shakes his head in disgust.]
To think that after only a scant few years of knowing someone, I would grant them not only my true name, but personal details about myself, thoughts and emotions that I have not revealed to another soul - not to you nor Hythlodaeus. The very idea is preposterous.
[And, what? Some manner of oath? To remain at his side until he grew weary and tired of immortality and chose to return to his own star? To be granted a peaceful end? It is all simply...unfathomable. Emet-Selch is scowling again hard, his forehead aching with the weight of it - an act certainly not helped by the hard bone just beginning to protrude from where his bangs have been brushed back.]
He all but implored me to speak with you following our conversation.
[Well, it wasn't a conversation so much as it was a torrent of information and his own childish outburst, but.]
[Emet-Selch sighs again, this one long and exhausted and distinctly...uneasy.]
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One hand continues to curl around his mug, while the other slides across the table and remains palm-down. It is not an ask, nor is it an offer. It merely is.
A physical representation of his words to follow.]
He was right to do so. There is a single fact that you have overlooked, one which will reorganize and refocus the entirety of what has happened.
[He takes another long sip of the coffee. When he finishes, his voice grows resolute. Firm, direct, a voice of reason.]
You did none of those things. You have revealed nothing, and your secrets remain yours. The individual that was present within the Simulation was a version of Emet-Selch, Redeemer of the Convocation of Fourteen, but he was not you. The individual named Hythlodaeus that was present was not the same Hythlodaeus that has arrived in this world. The grand design of their lives was much the same as his and yours, yes, but the differences between the two of you are vital. What intimacies shared between you may not apply to you at all.
[Themis makes eye contact. His are clear, beseeching Emet-Selch - Hades - to take heed of what he says.]
Byleth pointed you to come to me because I experienced everything in that place. As you have said yourself, I know you better than almost any other. I knew you when I had lost my own name, when I had lost everything but a duty to a people I could not recall. So know, that when I say you are not him I mean it with all of me.
[One side of his lips quirk up into an aborted smile. It is not a happy smile. There is the faintest tremor in his voice when he speaks next.]
Did you know that he barely spoke to me? I loved him, as I love you, and instead of your fond acknowledgement he barely gave me the time of day. And Hythlodaeus? I do not believe he spoke more than a dozen words to me during the entirety of the years we spent within that place. We lived within the same household, and still it was thus. They wore your faces, endured your histories, but they were not you.
[He closes his eyes and takes a breath. His shoulders shake, ever so slightly. Never had he acknowledged out loud how it had troubled him so, so very much. How those so dear to him could be so cold. But this is not about him.
The feel of the mug and the table is grounding. He steadies. His eyes open again, and once more they meet with Emet-Selch's familiar golden. The traces of old hurt have been washed away once more. Themis knows that he was not at fault.]
Byleth knows that you are not him. He will not reveal anything he has remembered to anyone who does not already know. He may seek out your friendship because he knows it to be worthwhile, if you are open to such a thing. But he will not push for what he has not earned. Just as he has not attempted to do so with me, despite my having a very real history with the one whose memories he has lived.
[He has to stop himself from continuing. Let Emet-Selch absorb what he had said.]
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[But as Themis's voice grows firm, Emet-Selch sits up straighter to listen, and meets his beseeching gaze. He has half a mind to argue against the point being made - after all he knows he did none of these things, that this other Emet-Selch's actions are no responsibility of his, that he is not beholden to the same course, the same friends, nor aught else he may have been working towards. He has told Themis this before, and several others the very same... But what proves most profound, in this moment, is hearing the ways in which they differ. Rather than a list of things they share, things which sound fantastic and highly unlikely but also somehow plausible, he and this other have now been painted in distinct contrast to one another.]
[And his brother's voice trembles. Emet-Selch's brow wrinkles at that and his attention returns to the table as Themis steadies himself again, his jaw twitching.]
[He has been distant and dismissive, surely. There have been moments where he wished not to be bothered, where he feigned disinterest, when the weight of everything became suffocating - but to go about his day-to-day as if one of his own scarcely existed at all... anger flares deep within his breast. Although Themis is displaying grace about it all, his pain at the rejection is amply clear.]
Sounds like a real genial soul, this man, who lacked the courtesy of even a few simple words to those who shared his abode.
[There's much more he could say, but perhaps more importantly the swirl of thoughts and agitation are beginning to sort themselves out, to settle into something manageable. Not that the agitation is abating, precisely, but there is no question that his friend here speaks the truth. It's with a certain levity that Emet-Selch lays his own arm flat across the other side of the table, clearly nowhere near the other, but a matching gesture all the same. He offers his companion a pointed look.]
Fortunately, I've grown used to your overachieving nature as well as your fervent (and ofttimes embarrassing) declarations of love and goodwill. Whatever lingering concerns you may hold about that, you may safely put from your mind.
As for Byleth... do not expect me to go easy on him if he finds that he cannot hold his tongue. While he has thus far proven to be an inoffensive if inquisitive sort, he does not seem to know when it is appropriate to cease speaking.
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[Hythlodaeus's tone remains light as ever as he descends the stairs, but there is a tiredness to his eyes and a weakness to his smile that betrays the truth of his thoughts as of late--an unceasing and relentless storm of anxious confusion that has yet to abate.]
My apologies. While it was not my intent to eavesdrop, I couldn't help but overhear.
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But tears do not fall. No, it is happiness that fills him fit to burst.
He had not been concerned, not really. But now he knew to never entertain the idea at all. Themis would always be himself, this was an aspect he had learned to embrace fully, that he would not change who he was - and to know that it would be accepted fully? Regardless of the slight put-upon tone - a farce, he knew - it sufficed him with so much joy. That he could express himself and extend his hand and have it grasped in turn.
A nod is his response to Emet-Selch's words about Byleth. It is a reasonable conclusion to make.]
He reminds me of our mutual friend in that way-
[Then Hythlodaeus makes himself known, and Themis straightens in his chair. He had known it was a possibility that the man could have been home, but to have that confirmed - and there is the confirmation that he had heard all that Themis had said to Emet-Selch. Well.
He did not hold himself back from Hades, nor would he do so with his other friend.]
No, his intentions and actions are only for the well-being of others, I assure you. Though, perhaps clumsily done. I would forgive such things considering the confusion and chaos his mind must have been thrown into.
[With a last lingering look towards Emet-Selch, Themis turns now towards Hythlodaeus.
Stands. Closes the distance between them.
And pulls his friend into a supportive, warm embrace. He had missed him oh, so very much, those memories of cold reception cannot touch Themis in this moment.]
What I had offered Emet-Selch, I offer now to you, my dearest friend. Whatever you may need, I am here for you.
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I was beginning to wonder when you might make your appearance. Let me guess. He gave you an earful as well.
[He makes to rise, vacating his chair to prepare a third cup of coffee, and perhaps enough excess to refill the others, his gaze returning to Themis.]
And perhaps. Odd, but hardly cruel. He seemed quite intent on breaking bread with me at the festival. I can only assume this was before the...pond incident. Even went back to bring me a straw of his own volition.
[He says it all with a certain dismissiveness, but anyone who knows him well (as they both do) can no doubt parse that the fact Emet-Selch has made note of these things means that they left an impression upon him in the first place.]
[In the meantime, he will grant his friends their moment. No doubt they could both benefit from the warmth of a friendly embrace. And when they are finished, should Hythlodaeus choose to slide into the chair he only just vacated, he will find that it's still warm. Emet-Selch can always pull up another.]
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And yet it is a welcome one, a steadying presence in the swirling seas of his mind. As he had done with the whole of them when they all were yet one. The blessing and the curse that only they two know.]
Dearest friend... And here I thought that might be Ericthonios.
[A little levity, a gift, and a hand on his shoulder to know that he is appreciated.]
I've heard my share from the man, though 'tis not wholly his words that have given me pause.
[He glances down at Elidibus--Themis--and then to Hades in the kitchen, and... hesitates. Hades knows his worries well, for they had spoken of them some time ago. But Themis... Would this serve only to bring up old wounds?
The waters should be tested first, he decides, and he turns his gaze back to Themis, ever gauging his reactions.]
I'm still attempting to grow used to all of this, I suppose. While I've never been one to shy away from new experiences, this talk of dragons and other worlds and other selves still comes a greater shock than I expected.
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[He interjects from the kitchen, though there's the barest hint of amusement in his cadence as he continues his work with far more measured motions than he employed earlier. A little extra levity, and perhaps silent acknowledgment that though he will not interrupt them unnecessarily, he's still paying keen attention.]
At least that's what he told me some time ago.
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Then he quirks a brow up, looking between the two of them.]
Though if we are to question the titles of 'dearest friend,' I must point out the glaring hypocrisy of maintaining it between the two of you as well as our own mutual friend of Azem. If, of course, we are to consider that an individual may only be possessed of one such friend - which is a belief I do not aspire to hold.
[He winks.]
If we are to be exact, Erichthonios would be my dearest fiancé amongst other things.
[While he does not sober, Themis's features settle in to an easy smile. This feels good. Feels right. But he did catch on to Hythlodaeus's testing of the waters.
Though not entirely sure of the exact nature of the man's thoughts he knows how to cast his net wide. He had far more time than the two of them to come to terms with the idea of choices made and not, of separate existences.]
I suspect that it would be shock indeed. It was partially due to the nature of my previous location - the one Byleth speaks of - that allowed me an easier time of it. Though I must admit living in a physical form and being free from emotional and mental manipulation is far preferable.
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A judgment only fitting of the esteemed Elidibus himself. I shall endeavor to be more specific in the future. My dearest, adventurous friend and my dearest, dourest friend, mayhap?
I will need some time for yourself, of course. My dearest, most engaged friend will only be fitting for so long.
[His smile comes easier, yet falters by the end of Themis's short explanation of his previous circumstances.]
...Aye, I imagine it would be.
['Tis little wonder he's adjusted to all this so much easier than Hythlodaeus has.]
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[He grumbles audibly, making sure the both of them can make out what he says next, even if it's a blatant misrepresentation of how he truly feels.]
The entire lot of you are utterly and unendingly incorrigible! If only I could determine which of you is more so and whom among you is the most tolerable thorn in my side.
[Dourest friend, indeed!]
[It's as Hythlodaeus falls quiet again that Emet-Selch returns, placing a freshly steaming mug upon the table nearest him and seating himself at another edge of the table between the two. This time he has also returned with a pot of the remaining coffee. Any cream or milk will simply have to be requested.]
Indeed. Despite the general unpleasantness of our draconic transformations, what we have remains our own. Now is the time to determine what role it is we wish to play within the grand scheme of things and to discover what we can - so that we are all prepared for whatever lies ahead.
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Then, he reaches his free hand out to rest it upon Hythlodaeus's arm. His fingers curl gently, to support and ground.]
I could perhaps be your dearest, shortest friend?
[He grins as he says it, taking the easy joke at his own expense for what it is. Slight pressure with his fingertips follow.]
Emet-Selch is correct in his statements. But it is important to recognize that none of us are alone in this. You are yourselves, none other, and you are not alone. Whatever it is you may need, I am here for you. I will be here for you. However you decide that support may be, whatever you need, I will see it through.
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You are not wrong. And I truly am blessed for your presence--for both your presence. And the presence of still more. Though...
[He summons a small carafe of cream and a bowl of sugar with the wave of his hand and sets about to pouring himself a cup of coffee.]
Emet-Selch is somewhat closer to the mark with my worries, I confess--mayhap because 'tis a subject we have already discussed. Or... "touched on," I suppose would be more accurate. Byleth's account was a shocking one, yes, but 'twas the man's reaction to it all that left more a mark.
[He finishes stirring in the sugar and sets the spoon to the side, then takes the cup in hand, clinging to it like a lifeline.]
"I don't know where I end and the other Byleth begins," the man said. A... familiar feeling for Themis and myself both, I imagine.
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[Something the two of them can relate to, hmn?]
[He frowns, feeling the hollow chill of an old, unrelenting ache that threatens to creep back into his heart despite the fortifying warmth of strong coffee and familiar company.]
This isn't solely about the dragons, is it? You refer to your time within Zodiark, or so I assume.
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Aye. Though given that this may be somewhat of a diversion to the topic at hand--and that I am an intruder to your conversation, purposefully or no--I would be more than understanding should you prefer to avoid such concerns. 'Tis hardly any trouble.
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[Emet-Selch sighs heavily.]
Besides, what is a conversation if not a series of diversions strung together and debated between friends?
Your concerns are just as valid as mine are, if not more so. And I will be the first to assure you that Themis here is not about to take his leave now that you have presented them. That's why he has let himself in, after all.
[He glances across the table at Themis. Clearly he's far more equipped to address Hythlodaeus's concerns than he is.]
Though if you would prefer that I grant the two of you some privacy...
[He doesn't intend to leave, but the offer is there if Hythlodaeus will feel more comfortable discussing such things in private with another who has experienced them. Rare is it for Hythlodaeus to admit that he is troubled, and Emet-Selch would prefer that he have the opportunity to air his concerns one way or another, even if he doesn't get to be a part of that process.]
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Warm coffee. Good friends. A home shared.
That cold time where he was both alone and made many is easier to stave off, now, when he is so close to those he loves. He knows that of which Hythlodaeus speaks all too well. Their situations and experiences were markedly different but ultimately came to the same conclusion.
The loss of the self.
When he speaks it's with a laugh in his voice and fondness in his eyes.]
You both are so alike, offering to leave so readily in order to spare the other. I, for one, would speak with you both here. It will bring no further harm to my psyche to speak on my experience with friends - my dreams do that well enough.
[Memories mixed with dreams. A foreign face where his should be in the mirror - but when he attempts to remember his own, it slips through his fingers. People whose identity catches in his throat, leaving him only with the idea that he loves them enough to keep going. One foot after the other, shedding himself piece by piece. For love.
He shakes his head and turns towards Hythlodaeus.]
The path I walked is no doubt different from your own, thrust to the fore as I was. My awareness was ceaseless in that I lacked any capacity to lose sight of what we had given of ourselves to achieve. But in that clarity, I was ever aware of each and every voice that had joined with mine, a choir made of the initial sacrifice as well as the subsequent joining. It was...
[He trails off, looking over now towards Emet-Selch.]
Overwhelming.
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He would have understood completely if Elidibus had preferred to leave such things behind, to open those wounds up another day, if ever again.
But still he speaks, and Hythlodaeus inclines his head as he listens, the edge of his cup hovering near his lips, the heat and scent grounding him to this world even as Elidibus's world brings him back to their own.]
...Indeed. Though nowhere near the extent that you must have felt, I... I too remember the edges of my "self" fraying. Wholly myself at one moment, and one amongst the mourning many the next. My hope, their grief, and a thousand, thousand wishes besides...
That you managed to cling to aught of yourself for any period of time after is nothing short of astounding.
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[Well, perhaps.]
[Emet-Selch meets that steady blue gaze, but for the moment, he says nothing. After all, his experiences, too, are markedly different. Where they had feared losing themselves, he instead had been left to watch as those around him began to wane, piece by piece chipping away until naught but duty remained.]
[His had been the burden of remembering. Family, friends, loved ones, names and faces all... as they began to slip from Lahabrea and Elidibus's grasp, Emet-Selch had taken the burden upon his own shoulders. His nightmare had been the heavy, ceaseless plod of time, the fear of failure, cracking beneath the weight of such precious cargo; losing them. Losing everything where those he held dear already had. And oh he had mourned each minute detail as it sifted through his fingers, his vision a final bastion for them all. He had held the hopes and the dreams, and the despairs of many, empowered by the fallen souls of their people.]
[Like them, he too had felt a pull urging him ever forward, bound by duty and cognizant of Zodiark's will. But not quite in the way they describe. This choir of which they speak he will never know as intimately as they do. To him, that song is synonymous with the voice of their Dark Lord.]
....
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[The intensity some had teased him for. That eagerness and sincerity in everything he did. The way he loved so thoroughly and deeply that he never knew what to do with himself, turbulent oceans beneath a placid surface. It had saved him, in the end.
His fingers press gently into Hythlodaeus's arm, a comfort for the both of them.]
Some part of me is glad that I may share in the experience with another. That we may draw strength and support from that which we both understand - though in the same breath I wish you be free of it.
[Never would he wish for his own comfort at the detriment to another. If he could take the memories and pain from his friend and suffer alone, he would do it in an instant. Better that he can't.
His free hand slides across the table towards Emet-Selch in a familiar motion, leaving it there. He sees you, Hades. He refuses to let you suffer in silence.]
But we remain. Our experiences have changed us, yes, but I believe that down to your core you remain yourself. Think back to the man you were when you stumbled upon me at the Capital, daydreaming about the events of Pandaemonium. The man you were whilst you adventured in Elpis. Would you, now, make any choices different to those he would have made?
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...Nay. I don't believe I would.
[He isn't wholly certain of that fact, but neither does he believe it possible to be certain.]
Regardless of what occurred, all that I did, I did in the belief that I might provide the path to a brighter future for those that I love. And while it may not have happened the way I intended, in the end, that did come to pass.
[A beautiful star brimming with possibility for those who came after.]
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[Well. Perhaps it is better that such a question was not posed of him. Unlike Hythlodaeus, his answer is not so charitable. He is the same man, yes, but in many ways he is forever changed. Oh, his convictions remain ever true, but the eons have afforded him much to ponder, much to weep over and regret, challenged his sense of morality and what is good and just and necessary in such a way that even he was surprised at the results. The Emet-Selch who had implored Hythlodaeus journey with him to Elpis in search of Hermes and the Emet-Selch who dutifully stood outside the counsel hall an hour early each and every morning could not have fathomed what had come to pass nor the many things he had wrought with his own hands. How can he say that his choices would be the very same with the knowledge he now wields?]
[But that is his own burden to bear. The question of whether he would do it all again in exactly the same manner one for himself to uncover. At least, he thinks, there is now one choice he cannot make the mistake of wresting from another's grasp.]
I expected as much, coming from you.
[Back then, even as he had pleaded, he knew. Whilst skirting around doing the unconscionable thing and disregarding the Convocation's own directive, Emet-Selch had sought to appeal to his friend; to change his mind. But Hythlodaeus's answer would remained been the same irregardless. Selfless to the very end and so full of faith.]
In the end, we each followed the path we deemed necessary. Who can truly say what may have occurred had our choices erred? Whether the resulting world would have been better or worse for it, whether the day would have been won or lost, or if we might have ended up exactly as we are now. Our choices are our own, yet the course of our star is a complex weave.
At least we have arrived at a conclusion we can live with - such as it is. One in which you are yourselves and no one else, with a whole new procession of choices to make on your own behalves.
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Hythlodaeus was correct. And so was Emet-Selch.]
Exactly, my dearest Emet-Selch. No matter the choices of others in differing realities, of experiences that blended the line between us and another, we are yet ourselves. Changed, yes. But change is not a thing to necessarily fear.
[He smiles, warm and bright. The air around him seems lighter, somehow, despite the sharing of burdens. As if a weight has lifted off. Arms pulling back, he takes his coffee with both hands and takes a long sip of the still-warm drink. The warmth that he feels within has nothing to do with the beverage he's drinking.
It's written all over his face. In his eyes.]
Thank you, both of you, for allowing me to be here and speak with you. To accept what I may give. It is all too tempting to withdraw and deal with one's troubles alone, to not burden others with the weight of what you have endured. A singular failing, I admit, that I myself am not immune to.
[A shrug is given at the admission. Themis has been better lately at it, but he will recognize his own faults.]
It is my hope that your troubles have been eased, if only by the smallest of fractions.
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[Not wholly, for some sense of unease will always remain until he grows used to that unfamiliar hue attached to his own, but it does not seem nearly so daunting now.
If Elidibus, he who was nearly swallowed by His and Their expectations can remain steadfast and even positive in a time like this, he himself cannot help but feel positive towards their futures as well.]
Though for all the thanks you give to us, I feel as though I should be the one extending them to you. As ever, you have proven yourself to be nothing short of an exemplary Emissary.
[And with the slightest twitch of the corners of his lips...]
Why, I would go so far as to say that Emet-Selch's brow may go uncreased for a full bell even after your departure.
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There you go, giving him unrealistic expectations.
[Emet-Selch's eyes narrow in Hythlodaeus's direction before he takes another sip from his own mug, his attention returning to Themis once more.]
We all know that this brow of mine is not like to go uncreased for any duration in future, especially now when they've two extra appendages to hold aloft. Alas, my gratitude will have to suffice, as well as a reminder that I am here should either of your burdens begin to pile up again.
It doesn't always need to be Falling
It isn't that he needs an invite to go see his boyfriend. The blond often loves to swing by his home just to see that big, delighted smile from the surprise of it all. But there is something that sets his heart fluttering whenever he gets a message asking for his presence. Elidibus has a sweet, romantic way about him that leaves Prompto always trying to guess what the Ancient has prepared for their next outing together. It is not often that the sunshine boy himself gets to bask in the warmth of another sun.
It is from one such invitation that Prompto finds himself knocking on Elidibus' front door with a wide grin on his face. "Hey! Heyyy! C'mon, we got places to go! Soooo many dates to catch up on!"
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"Yes, yes, I will not keep us overlong, no matter how I wish to just look at you." Spending hours staring at his partner does, actually, sound like a good date for Themis. But he had promised more.
Out in the sunlight Prompto's hair looks practically gilded in the light. It catches the sun much like Themis's own does - moonlight instead of sunshine - but the true shine is the energy that the two of them give off. A feedback loop that Themis does not believe he will every grow weary of, energy begetting energy, a binary star system whirling through the cosmos and picking up momentum. The journey is made almost on autopilot with how much attention he's giving Prompto, but his feet do not lead them astray.
"We are here. I had thought this scenery would appeal to your artist's eye," spoken with a smile and an arm sweeping out to show the view. A small hill terminates gently into a shallow stream, the banks of which are lined on the near side with long, soft grass that has been cleared of snow and coaxed into greenery, the far side dominated by a massive willow that sways gently in the breeze. The temperature here is just warm enough to be comfortable, the brisk air still refreshing.
[video] during the Brain Boggling event
"Heyyy, Teacherrr...?"
Popp sounds more abashed than truly distressed, and just a little bit whiny. He knows Themis is extremely busy with all of the everything, but also... look, Popp is part of the everything dear to him at this point!
"I can't get my Zoom spell to work with the snow changing how everything looks, can you show me exactly what the town looks like outside right now?"
[video]
He pans over the town from above, giving Popp ample time to take in the details as best as he can with the falling snow. The vantage point is quite the good one.
"Does that suit your needs?" finally Themis himself comes into view, wings lazily beating to hold him in place.
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"Oh yeah, that's perfect!"
Without further warning, Popp's side of the communication blurs from incredible speed. Another drawback of Zoom is the lack of precise steering and he's focusing on Themis as well as the landscape. It's a near miss as he shoots down out of the sky like a falling star at a steep angle, close enough that the wind from his passage whips Elidibus' long hair around. Close enough that they show up in each other's rock images at the same time for a split second.
His end of the scrying spins and settles on an upwards view of the winter skies when he hits a relatively soft landing comprised of snowy buildup and also someone's perfectly good hydrangeas. Those are going to look pretty shabby once spring hits!
[video] to action
"I see that it was, indeed, perfect."
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Popp is grumbling and defensive. Mithrun is not participating in this conversation. Both of them are sprawled so inelegantly.
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"Oh, dear Popp, I had meant my camerawork!"
The sprawled image of Popp, now defensive and grumpy, is so incredibly silly - such a jarring change to the rest of the day. When his laughter dies down, he offers a hand to the both of them to pull them up. Mithrun will continue to not participate in the conversation.
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"...Maybe you should hang onto him. He's totally out of magic power, which means that he's basically a sack of flour that breathes."
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And who would probably take offense should Elidibus carry Mithrun around as if he were truly the sack of flour that Popp has compared him to.
"As for you... Where are you headed now that you have returned to town?"
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Popp tucks his hands under his arms for warmth and emphasis. He can be very practical when he's not stressed, which is less often than he would prefer.
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Elidibus eyes him as if he's thinking of sparing some energy for some cold resistance magic, but thinks better of it. He will need it for the remainder of his patrol.
"Need you aught else before I return Mithrun to his home?"
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Obviously, their power levels are kind of... look, Popp feels better for having made the offer, all right? Face red from the cold and maybe a little from embarrassment, he rockets off into the sky again. Of course he's not going any slower; how else is he going to learn how to land at this speed?
Wrap?
He has barely enough time to get the words out before Popp is off like a gunshot. Despite the situation around Town, Elidibus cannot help but smile to himself, hefting Mithrun up to begin his own journey to get him somewhere safe. A detour from his patrol route, but a worthwhile one.
Because now if Popp needs him again, he knows that Elidibus will answer.
Wrap!