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.
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no subject
[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?
no subject
...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.]
no subject
[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.
no subject
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.
no subject
[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.
no subject
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.