oh, deliver us.

[blazingdawn]

it's troublesome. it was one thing to be magically whisked away to some facility on the moon and wake up finding out you've essentially become one of many test subjects that are now taking part in a massive breakout. that? that stelle could easily handle. even a wooden bat was just as lethal as the one she borrowed from herta's space station.

but it's the stellaron that's causing problems.

she wishes welt were with her. he could do something about it. she didn't care that it pulsated within her chest, eager to take root in a place filled with chaos on confusion. it was the whispering that bothered the trailblazer. she liked to think that only she could hear it– low and taunting against her ears– but that didn't seem to be the case. not when her companion casually asks about it and she's stuck standing like a deer caught in the headlights.

" Voices? What voices? I don't hear anything–" cool, cool, play it off like it's nothing.

@exousiate

[exousiate]

the response is telling. not only he does wonder if this is how he appears when he avoids certain topics, but if he is that terrible of a liar. a part of himself would not be surprised if it came from his love, though he does not have the freedom to daydream at the moment. not when there is so much in this facility and his companion is refusing to argue openly.

he is not rushing any judgment. first, he needs to find where it was coming from and if it was harmless, not that the sound let him trust its intentions. ironic, if he had to confess, but none of them had been that lacking when refuting the heroic spirits and the arrogance of mankind.

perhaps they had sounded irritated but it was not as if they had not hold decent of manners despite the resentment.

“No, there were voices. Loud, insistent and clearly pretentious.” he pauses briefly, before clicking his tongue. “More loud than anything, in fact. I have only encountered one entity that had the same tone and it barely fulfilled any of its promises.”

[sanpatron]

" Makes sense. Way easier to slip into the night and not have to deal with regular folk learning there's more to the world than they thought. Unless somebody wants t' go out and cause a scene. "

[exousiate]

“Those that learn more than they should are not lucky either. If any mage finds a human near, it is their responsibility to deal with them.”

[spiriteyed]

" I haven't faced a puzzle like this since Salem..... although far less technologically advanced." the room was a stark, clinical white. the artificial lights only further drowned out any sort of color, save for the blinking red bulbs of the alarms going off throughout the facility. this room – what she assumed to be the control room, though unlike chaldea's – overlooked a far larger room with catwalks that were either on the verge of falling apart or already broken. and beneath those catwalks looked just to be a simple, empty space lined with servers.

and yet she did not trust it. it was too easy. too straightforward. the stairs behind them led to that lower floor but whoever had done this would not let anyone get away that easily.

fingers tap against the keyboard of one terminal, seeing if anything would happen. more text she couldnt't understand. was it asking for a password? a key? there was that slot next to the terminal but she had neither a key nor time. there follows a rather dramatic sigh and then she's slamming her fist into the terminal.

the lights of the room flicker for a few seconds and then there's a hiss. something is being released in the lower level– steam? a gas of some kind? there was no way to tell. another sigh as she looks over her shoulder to her companion, still finding a reason to grin.

" You won't be able to punch your way out of this one, dear."

@exousiate

[exousiate]

under different circumstances, the queen's smile would be a relief but the hiss has him narrow his eyes. even if his all-seen sight had no flaws, he would still not trust what is coming their way. he has come to learn what to do in its absence, though it does not prevent the forced stillness in the air from getting his senses on high alert. in this moment, he cannot resent how human his own response is.

it still does not mean he has to like it. he can throw himself in harm's way but Marie would not agree on that, and the queen of Sheba would less. he would rather not have to explain any unforeseen wounds.

no matter how it turns out, the people he sees as his home do not need to have him bleed.

“Please do not wander carelessly.” his words are soft in their pleading, nearly cautious. it is impossible to hide his concern but he understands she will follow her own wishes; in some aspects, he cannot argue he has done as such. still, he does not wish for anything to befall her majesty.

her humor is, however, reassuring even if he does not have the finesse to follow it. the sigh that escapes him is half serious, half relenting. “I would not entertain it, but if this is how it is... truly convenient of those behind it.”

[animasend]

truthfully, she can't recall when he last slipped into talking as if before. no, it does not cause her any alarm. he is far more human now, more person than just a creation and a ritual but one cannot change what they are. a heart cannot stop its own beating. that didn't stop her from seeing who he was and not what he was. it isn't so different from him refusing to treat her like she was meant to be– a lone star, a singular planet created for a purpose she was never meant to escape from.

why else would she have told what was left of her in fuyuki that it was time to stop dreaming?

he had done far more good than he thought, but it will never be seen that way. what afforded her the chance to buy time would still be viewed as unforgiveable. it would be a waste of breath to try and convince him otherwise, and yet, try she must. not for herself but for him. some grace is deserved but he will never take it with his own hands. it is his sin, but he will find no punishment from her.

" How were you to know? What could you have done if you had? Even if you hadn't come to feel anything for me, there's no changing what my father did long before we met. You still wouldn't have known and it still would've ended the way it did. " that troublesome goddess had said it clear as day– a fate was defied that should not have been possible. no matter what was done, her role didn't change. only the method of arriving to it did. it brings no comfort and she doesn't expect it to but what good lies in what he's doing?

none, none at all.

" It was a mistake. I knew that. That was enough– I needed nothing else. But you aren't responsible for what the Human Order did. " not you, anyone but you. it echoes from a memory years before as her thumb brushes across his knuckle. a paltry comfort but one she gives without thought, always for him. she will not ask him to forgive those humans– she has not either and holds no desire to. " And what puts me above you? My planet has already ended. That Human Order is no more. But you couldn't have stopped it anymore than I could."

[exousiate]

once a long ago, he would have laughed at the absurdity. it is not strange how they follow the men that raised them; even if the philosophies contrast each other. he will address romani in many ways but there will always be grief, not unlike a child wishing for their parent to return. he supposes he is, in some twisted and unnatural manner. there was never a need to put the sentiment into words.

it would have made it infinitely kinder if the king had never given them a heart.

a heart can never stop its own beating. and no matter how much some of them had wished to follow solomon onto death, not all of them had agreed. it was impossible for a creation to join their creator despite all the rage, hatred, and disappointment; each one of them had grieved.

“Do you believe I could see what my own actions had brought and feel nothing? That I could accept oblivion while the Human Order attempted a pitiful intake of breath? I could not.” duty came first, and emotions after. as it had been before, as it should have always been. “It will never care for what anyone wants and then do what it must to survive. You do not want my answer for what could have happened. You want me to accept that fate is immovable.”

and what puts me above you? for what reason does anyone cherish someone more than their life? what a foolish question. he will never express it aloud, not to the ears of strangers and unbelievers, it is a secret of his and his alone. he did not know what it was like before her, to value someone so removed from himself with this level of haunting. he should hate her, despise her for assuring their mutual destruction with an ignorance that bordered on insult, revile her for being inside him in the same way he lives inside her.

the answer is not a red thread on each other's finger. love can be a leash prepared to suffocate, violence on violence, and no kindness at all. no, it is the calm in damnation. the willingness in accepting there will be no reward to a road stained in blood, whether it is his or not. but those are his sins, for daring to misunderstand not once but one after another.

“Then I will say it. Fate is a sucession of coincidences and inevitabilities. We refused to accept the answer it all would end in a never-ending white, for it was the highest insult to existence. Humanity did not have to agree, you all saw it clearly when the incineration was stopped.” golden eyes fall upon hers, the flash of red unmistakable before it disappears. his gaze still refuses to move as his hands press against hers. “A mistake, similar to ours. Does that erase the ignorance behind it? It does not. It will never erase it.”

if this was a fair story, she would not question why he does what he does. but they were never not part of a tragedy, with the world watching as if it were not involved.

“Olga. You ask what puts you above myself? Nothing. Nothing will give logic to that statement, because there is none. I am what I am. If you ever saw good in me, it was only reflected from you. Love is a leash that pulls both ways.” and where she goes, he follows. his own longing spills with pure abandon, nose pressing against hers, forehead touching without reservation. “I love you, stone in my shoe. I love only you. Only you. Only ever you. Yours always.”

[animasend]

it was expected. she didn't need clairvoyance or to see colors to know how her words would make him feel. the silence said more than enough– as did an action so subtle she would've missed it, had she not known him inside and out.

nothing is said as her hands find his, fingers slotting themselves between his own in a grip that gave no lenience. in the same notion, she heals the already broken skin. he may care little for any scars he receives, giving them the only basic of care to ensure survival, but that is not enough for her. it will never be enough for her. he will not give them the care necessary, so she will do it in his stead. once, twice, a hundred times if need be. until he realizes they deserve more than just a glance and barely serviceable repair. until he's willing to show the same kindness to himself that he has to the many aided in those worlds that exist no longer.

" Yes, but I forgave you for it a long, long time ago." for him, for the others, it was only a small handful of years. not the century it was for her. a century to think, century to feel, a century to realize. it was just a mistake. a terrible mistake, but one nonetheless. what good would it do for her to hold a grudge over that? maybe she should. maybe she should be angry, to find herself incapable of even looking into those eyes she so loved.

she could not. she would not.

" You don't have to understand everything. Would it be easier for you if I were to hate you? If so, I'm afraid that will have to be the one thing I disappoint you in." even if he had told her long ago that nothing she could do would disappoint him, that wasn't true anymore. but it doesn't her. she doesn't feel any sorrow or remorse at her inability to resent him. the mere thought of it is almost laughable at the absurdity of it.

" I've already moved on from it."

[exousiate]

under different circumstances, he would reassure her that his hands would stay still but she knows how he is. his hands have gone through so much he could barely put any effort that was not basic care, it is not as if he will stop even with wounds. and that is the problem for marie, she will disagree on how he sees himself.

he has been alive for far longer than he should have, it is nothing surprising.

“It would be easier, that is why it will not happen.” he has already found himself in this position once, a long ago. with a man whose smile never reached his eyes, protesting why he did nothing to stop the suffering. the answer from that day had determined the future because a beast had dreamed a a foul, foul dream. “Our role was to obtain all wisdom, whether we agreed upon it or not. It is what we were born for, it is what we died for.”

lies upon lies, is what anyone would say. it still will not change the truth, humanity can denounce the incineration, the only answer that had proven them wrong came from those that had remained. not the mages that had followed solomon's teachings, born without understanding their accomplishments belonged to the king. even if that man had only wanted to be a normal human, even then.

“I could not. That is my sin, clinging to life when humanity had made it clear it did not need us.” some would ask why bother at all, but only the stars will know. no one needs to know what happened on the abandoned throne. “We could forgive that, we could accept that, but not this offense from the Human Order. You know what I mean, you've always known. Using me is within its rights, but you? We— No, I will not forgive that.”

oh lord, have mercy on this beast. it did not die when it should have.

“Those humans I will not grieve. I will not give them the last rites.”

[animasend]

" You know I don't resent you for it, right?"

maybe there was a better way than to just blurt it out but she could think of no other. really, it's the one thing she's been wanting to say for awhile now but there was always something holding it back. a wish to spare him further of any unnecessary pain or perhaps that uncertainty of how he would take hearing her say those words. much has changed but she's not blind to the fact there's some things they don't talk about it. a mutual understanding, but one olga wants to start to change. no matter how it ended, she wanted to make that effort.

so she chooses a moment where goetia is at his most relaxed– a quiet day, where the only thing that happened was peaches finding a lizard friend earlier in the day. now, he's content to rest between them after tiring himself out, her hand idly running through his fur as she chooses her words carefully.

" Any of it. I had tried but......it was impossible to. "

@exousiate

[exousiate]

this day was always going to happen, except it does not come off as acusation nor as indifference. it is so unbearably gentle despite how careful it is, as if she believes he would run away as soon as the words were thrown into the air. he wishes he could, wishes he could muster some energy into the notion, but avoidance will lead them to nowhere. once that mistake happened and it cost more than he will admit, until he could not mutter to that foolish man: I do not hate you.

even when it was their hand that committed the highest folly. what right did they have to believe they understood the king? none at all. the arrogance of it would be baffling, if it had not been humbling. he could never believe it was only his opinion that spoke the truth when others were blissfully ignorant of what the planet would turn into.

wrong. you judged her for making you falter, for allowing yourself get attached to a place, the corner of his mind supplies. and what if he did? when humans only created filth upon filth? when their flaw was mortality and they died so easily? when they never considered that a magical ritual should not be given a heart? when the king smiled and none were the wiser? when death was a mistake and they could not accept any more suffering—

he does not realize his own nails are pressing against his skin, enough to draw blood. his mouth falls into a thin line, forcing his own tongue to stay still, before he speaks without any intake of air. he has never needed it, it will bring him no comfort.

“I'll never understand that.”

“No matter how you say it, the mere act was unforgivable.”

[exousiate]

let me assign you one of the seven virtues

patience

you are a rock, a bastion; a skilled hand at stillness and slow breaths. it’s meant to bring you serenity. but how much do you let pass? how much do you watch, unmoving, as it tears you apart? the frog sits patiently in the pot as the water boils around it. you have done such a good job of letting it all wash over you that you’ll barely notice it when you drown.

[luthienne]

Rita Dove, from Playlist for the Apocalypse: Poems; "Ghettoland: Exeunt"

[Text ID: You stop to gaze at the softening sky / because there is nowhere else to look / without remembering pity and contempt, / without harboring rage.]

[sanpatron]

" No idea if this was a thing from everyone's respective universe, but I think we should bring back dueling. Think about it, what's a better way to settle arguments than by putting your own life on the line! Are you bold enough to theoretically die on this hill, or are you that big of a coward that you'll easily admit defeat in the face of your opponent, and the public at large. "

[exousiate]

“It is not uncommon, whether for prestige, knowledge or territory disputes. But you will not find many modern mages choosing to reveal their craft in broad daylight, they find it more comfortable to seek the night for their activities.”

[animasend]

for a split second, she wonders if she did it wrong. that even with all the world's knowledge at her fingertips, she messed up a simple pun. the silence is almost deafening but just as she is about to defend her choice of words, he laughs. back then, there was always that quiet fear that such sounds were mere mockery, which often kept her from even allowing herself to have fun. now, she knows it's innocent. genuine. many times he had told her he never thought of her the way her fears told her. one of many quiet regrets she has.

still, that hardly stops her cheeks from flushing a deep crimson, the color blooming to her ears as the distance is crossed.

not even her hat is a saving grace, the pout returning to her lips in some effort to stop a smile. how her body relaxes immediately in his arms, hands finding that all too familiar place against his shoulders with a sigh that only said content. almost like back then but not quite. she wishes she had done this back then– instead of shrinking away at the sheer weight of her feelings.

it probably would've been like this.

"Always. For you, at least." it took far too long for her to allow herself to be selfish but the risk? more than worth it. one hand slips closer, enough to brush her thumb against the edge of his jaw. " I know that now. I wasn't too sure then or even if you would want to find me. Better to stand and wait like a fool than leave because I was too worried to think rationally."

[exousiate]

if he were to share his rather unbiased opinion, it is not reasonable. being selfish for him is not what he is used to, and he cannot claim that it has been the source of much happiness... until they met. some would say parallel lines should never cross, but how can he agree with that? even if his life had remained clear of any doubts, it would have been no different than choosing oblivion.

there are many things he has learned to love, many things he will continue to resent, many things he will never find answers for. he has accepted it, no matter how much his heart carries that anguish even after the passing of years. no forgiveness will ease the burden, it weights as it should. his footsteps will disappear into the bleached earth but only when his own promises have been fulfilled.

it was never a choice at all. he would rather know grief than be deprived of the joy of ever having.

but his attention to returns to marie, leaning closer when her thumb reaches his jaw. he closes his eyes momentarily, offering his cheek to brush back before deciding it is not enough. he will let her forget for much longer what happened in this place, but it does not mean he will contain his own longing.

“If I gave you the impression long before I did it without a reason, then I was the fool.” his hands lower her, his mouth reaching for her eyelids, her cheeks, her nose and then, he lingers into an unspeakable softness when his lips find hers. “I would rather be again, if it spares you from believing it.”

[animasend]

it's convincing enough to her. she doesn't suspect anything, instead her expression shifting to disbelief at his words.

to some, it would be laughable at how easily she's convinced, calling it foolish or pure naivety. the truth of the matter is that she trusts him. she always has and nothing that's transpired has changed that. and so what if he's merely waiting for the right moment to strike? when she suspects it the least and all he has to do is say one sentence to make her trip over her own thoughts?

and honestly, she likes what he makes her feel. even if sometimes the sheer embarrassment is enough to make her want to crawl under the covers and hide for days.

"I saw no reason to move. What if I did and you couldn't find me? Or there was some–" words come to a halt as what flew over her head comes back around to metaphorically hit her. silence is what he gets at first, evident in how she's battling between giving into laughter or asking what cheap joke book he got that from. the common phrase is if you don't have anything nice to say then don't say it at all. tempting.

and then there's the third choice, the one she settles for with a straight of a face as she can muster. " That'd make them shellfish. "

[exousiate]

the pause is long. so long that the seagulls can be heard in the distance, without any care about their day. except, him? he is staring with the most blank expression before temptatively turning to the side and then, at the sound of the waves hitting the shore, there is a laugh. it is nearly contained within his closed mouth but then, his shoulders shake and shake and shake until his mouth opens with teeth full on display and the laughter doesn't stop.

and it genuinely does not, as he comes closer with the intention of eliminating any distance from them. his hands are gentle when he lifts her up, eyes softening without hesitation, because once more she has surprised him.

“Were you? Shellfish?” he nuzzles her nose with his, a hint of laughter still roaming in the air. a part of him wants to move the hat away, but his hands remain firm against her, refusing to let go. no matter how much he wants to remind her why she did what she did a lifetime ago in this beach, he would always prefer her to be in his arms.

but he has not answered her question, despite how it is meant to distract him. “I would have found you. Even if you had left.”

[animasend]

she needs neither clairvoyance nor her omniscient sight to know that he's indulging her. it's a habit from the old days, one he never quite grew out of– no matter how much everything changed. if one asked, she would say that it wasn't fair to him. he carried more weight than he deserved to, refusing to put the burden of memory down. she would rather he rest. everything has already been settled and sometimes she wonders what he'll think of her decision when that time comes for him but that's a problem for later. for now, her priority is him.

and what she can do to ease his burden is little more than this: living like real people do. the normal, mundane pace of life, as if they were like any other couple. for all goetia says, for all of how he carries himself, he was more human than any could know. or maybe they do know and just refuse to accept that it was possible. that someone with stained hands was capable of gentleness.

the rough edges and callouses would fool anyone else but she has always found them warm. kind. afraid. how could she not love them?

"I meant darker without it being night." lips purse for a moment, gaze peeking at him with intent. " And I would again. I also told you that if any crabs get to your toes, not to come crying to me." and here, in this pause, she can't help but to laugh softly behind her hand. " Truth be told, I almost wish one hand. It would've been fun to see."

[exousiate]

he nearly sends a glance with a raised eyebrow, but that would be far too simple. what would be the point in cutting through all her argument to earn a brief moment of satisfaction? no, he has no qualms into playing along for much longer. it is not the first time, and neither it will be his last. the difference in behavior from his past self is nearly insulting, but marie likely finds it endearing while he wonders when calculation became sentimentality.

not that finding the answer changes how he feels. romani would have smiled like a fool and asked when did it happen and goetia, no matter how much he changes in appearance or form, would have been incapable of denying such mere wish. perhaps it is a weakness to be incapable of turning away from those he loves. it is still what he does because anything that brings a smile from marie is a miracle.

if he were still his old self, he would be baffled at how a laugh could make him want to grant her anything.

“They would have had to share. Or did you forget you stood there shell-shocked?” he does a contemplative hum as if it were difficult to remember. “I left you for a while to find my shoes and certain someone had not moved an inch.”

[animasend]

if one were to assume that, after all this time, she wouldn't be so easily swayed by his words then they wpuld be very, very wrong. particularly when said words were her own echoed back. he's this terrible sort of happiness, cutting right through to the heart. not that there existed much of any wall between them anymore. will she ever get used to it? no, never.

and yet that was one of the few things she looked forwards to.

"That's where you're wrong. I make it a habit to remember everything when it comes to you. " no, that wasn't what he meant, but were she to let it slip, she would never hear the end of it. because yes, the events of that night are quite clear in her mind and the reason why her cheeks grow hotter with every passing second. her head dips, hat obscuring her face from view. will she ever be able to think of herself from the past and not wish to hide? probably not. there were many things she wished she had done that night and it all coming to rush at her now was not....ideal.

but she must save face. clearing her throat, straightening her posture a bit too abruptly, olga marie behaves as if she's not fighting off the embarrassment. " A-Anyways, I wasn't talking about me. I meant the place! This doesn't even look like the right pier." and she quickly moves forward a bit, glaring at the wood as if it personally offended her. " It was darker. Much darker!"

[exousiate]

there it is. he almost wants to apologize for everything she goes through to show how unaffected she is but that would make him a hypocrite. they may share the horrible habit of trying to alleviate the burden for each other's benefit when it comes to painful truth, and it has an alarming rate of success. however, not here. not when it is an unique sort of happiness be so vulnerable towards another.

if there is an opportunity to tease, it happens.

that said, it would be far too simple. predictable, even. she has seen through all sorts of disguises and not batted an eyelash; and if he were honest, anyone else would have received the slightest of glares for daring to see where he does not permit it. but with marie? oh, he is nothing more than a fool. he will pretend to turn his eyes away and carry along, letting her see what lies underneath his soft appearance and gentle eyes.

so, he plays along. it is not any different from a particular day between what appears to be a young couple: her pointing at the pier and him nodding as if he believes her proof without any doubt.

“It was supposed to be darker.” how would they see the fireworks otherwise? he continues patiently, with a deliberate short hum. any longer, and she'll suspect him. “I stood nearby and you scolded me for my footwear. The lack of it, that is.”

[animasend]

" And that's why you're staring?" sometimes she wished she could still see the colors. as much of a headache it was, it had proven to be quite useful. but she recognizes the humor, curiousity forming at just what could be so funny. he talks of fireworks and for a moment, she's about to correct him that it's still a few months away until that happens. but then she connects the dots.

even if everything was back in place, her mind still needed those few extra moments to sort through it all. to pluck the happy from the misery, separate the unique scenery from the blurred sight of blinding overhead lights. she turns to her left and then to her right, surveying the area, before fixing him with a look that said i don't believe that.

" Are you sure? It all looks the same to me. Sand, water, piers. How do you know it's the exact spot we took a walk at before?" no defining marks, no possible path in the sand they would have taken then, no crabs milling about waiting to pinch at bare toes. " It was dark then, too. There's no way you remember the exact spot."

[exousiate]

the scepticism would worry him if he did not have an inkling why she was behaving that way. he closes his eyes momentarily and then, opens them slightly as if to say what can i do about it? all he is missing is tiping a non-existent hat and follow with a casual comment, wondering if she had enough sleep and whether they should stop to grab a cup of tea. even if he does not do it, he suspects that she will guess it.

half-open secrets are easier to acknowledge. although, in his experience, he has a penchant to offer the truth when he has verified that it will not cause him any disadvantage. and in this matter? he is the picture of an amenable person that has nothing to hide from his love.

“I remember everything about you.” unfortunate for her self-preservation, but he has always loved that weakness of hers too much. the pink that spreads her cheeks are why he can spend hours on her skin. “It is not my fault that you refuse to do the same.”

[animasend]

" Haven't I told you about not wearing shoes in the sand?" yes, it was years ago ( practically a lifetime for her ) but it still warranted repeating. yet it seemed that fell on deaf ears once more but unlike before, she contemplates using magecraft to fix the issue. knowing goetia, however, he'll just get rid of them within seconds. so she accepts defeat in this matter, choosing to continue following behind him. it was his idea to come to boardwalk in golden and given how pleasant the weather has been lately, she could see why. that and, well, sometimes she missed living just feet away from the beach, the water and the waves. (it was for the better. things were always too loud then.)

while the brim of her large hat provided enough protection from the sun, it also blocked half her view when looking down to make sure she didn't trip. so by the time olga looks up to see what got him to pause, she almost stumbles back. why? because he's staring. for how long? she has no idea, given her gaze was on the ground looking for shells.

his name is spoken once, twice, and then a third time with no response so she opts to waving a gloved hand gently in front of his face. "Did you end up frozen in place or something? " she laughs softly, teeth peeking from behind her lips. " Blink twice if you need me to save you."

@exousiate

[exousiate]

nostalgia is not the word for it. though some could say his nature was melancholic and it has led him to search for the reminders of what will never return, he finds more peace in the sound of the waves. chaldea had a never-ending storm while the temple was simply a mausoleum held by grudges and grief towards one man; golden was the first place he could consider home in this world. so perhaps the idea was merely an indulgence, to see the blue sky and feel the sand on his feet.

the black fens could not compete with the nature of the throne, but it was still calming for a rare restless night when he would wake up and feel the air was too much. too much, too much, too much — as if every part of himself wanted to remember a dream that never happened. on those early mornings, he simply laid down and stared at marie until her face was burned into his memory.

and now he finds himself into a scenario that happened a lifetime ago, wondering if he should do what marie did in embarrassment. it would not be the first time he has reminded her of what they can freely talk about.

“We've been here before,” he observes with a tilt of humor but it’s softened when he sees that familiar gesture from her mouth. “I had almost missed it with no fireworks in the sky.”

[starmament]

⠀⠀⠀⠀“Waiiit, so... If a utopia is a cautionary tale, doesn't that mean it's the dystopia all along ? If society gets all screwy trying to become perfect, the perfection's the problem, isn't it ? Jeez— I was expecting more of an 'if a tree falls and no one's around to hear it' kind of topic this close to exams...” 

[exousiate]

“Close, though not quite.” that said, it will serve as extra credit for whatever assignment has a lower grade. if only for the tree joke but he will not admit it until he sees his wife later. “Desires differ for each individual; a perfect society is the trap of another. Is the pursuit of perfection worth it for the misery that follows? Ergo, utopia and dystopia are philosophical mirrors. Remember that well for the exam.”

[sendousha]

Hearing that was a bit surprising — he seemed to be someone who had seen a lot, someone who had grown past letting emotions run rampant for the weariness they left afterward. Numb, but wise, from whatever he'd been through. Though a sliver of it brushed the moonlight, Aichi felt some hope he'd never reach such a point, not for real.

But like him, this man had someone who reached out, no matter how hard he pushed back, how tightly he might curl into refusal and isolation. Hopefully, they were able to meet one another at a middle ground and connect.

Truthfully, as spoken, it bothered him to be here, doing nothing, being powerless. Those were frustrations that bore through his brain and corroded sanity once before, a path walked once and retrodden — a cliff he was unwilling to drop over for a third time. To be utterly helpless was maddening, but simultaneously, it was so naturally human. A small being that could do little alone, but stand in infinite defiance and resistance, even if their body and spirit might burn out, should their resilience hold out. To overturn the impossible into a miracle.

As futile as it might feel, they couldn't rule out rebelling against the sky and making life here their own. Even a dream, even a sliver — he was sure there were those who had turned over even more incomprehensible odds. "That's all anyone needs: a reason. And we can hope they find that reason, and happiness in it. Life is so precious, we've been gifted something so special — some are unjustly arduous, the idea of someone suffering tremendously through their short time fills me is devastating.

But they still cling on, for that reason, and I'd cheer them on to seize it full, make it their own and become their happiest. From where they were born, here, wherever they may go. There's nowhere that reason and comfort can't reach".

[exousiate]

his first reaction is the subtle glint in his eyes, a brief hint of red flashing. how curious, if he was not particularly self-aware, he could nearly imagine it was mashu rather than a stranger. but the stranger's opinion brings up an argument that he can concurr. why is life so full of sorrow? the answer will always evade him, no matter how much he seeks the wisdom to answer it.

and what is happiness when everything that you know has been proven wrong? not once, but twice? it speaks of arrogance to ask the remains of a beast if life is precious, when self-termination was the choice nearly all of them took. now there is no more chorus of voices and no corpse to remember the king they mourned, there is only the last living piece of beast I.

he wonders if that man would have grieved them if his creation had perished first. there is no way for goetia to know, there is no way for him to ever know. all he can do is remember that laughing face and agree that the king became human and that dream unintentionally became what his magical ritual went through.

“It is because it is fleeting that people need to treasure it. Despite how, sometimes, the circumstances will go against them.” perhaps that is the most painful of truths, the inevitability from how life will not care about what one wants. it takes, it takes, and it takes without abandon or reason. his mouth falls into a thin line before his eyes soften in contemplation. “Cheering them on when the finish line is near is not simple either, but there is always something in watching it all from afar. Being born means that we will struggle but nonetheless strive for more.”