[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.
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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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