[She lifts her head and squints at him when he levels that at her, unimpressed.]
Ah, forcing an immortal to learn the value of fleeting mortal instants...
[But taking shots at each other over it will hardly help. Reluctantly, she lets go, coming around the side of him and reaching to pour herself some wine too.]
I can't grant you oblivion. I can try to provide support, but you have to want it, or it'll be useless.
[ It is a mark of how depressed he is that he has no rejoinder to her sarcasm. He points a listless finger towards the closed door that hides Felih's room. A room filled to bursting with unusual plants, books, and other keepsakes. ]
[She blinks, taking stock of the small vines from one plant that are trying to slither their way out the door in their slow way. Opening the door yields... well, a lot.
Yes, he won't want for little treasures from Felih, that's for sure. But one problem remains... she yells down the hall from the doorway.]
What are you going to do with it all? The plants could get to be a bit much without someone to tend to them.
[Hades, she imagines, is probably not a nurturing person when it comes to gardening. But that's to say nothing of the odds and ends within along with the plants, various books and trinkets she's sure had a value to Felih that may never be known.]
Gods, Felih, you lived like this?
[Irony coming from the one who will mess multiple rooms of her home up for the purpose of crafts.]
[ This not very loud response as he downs the rest of his wine and goes to pour himself some more. The sour tang of alcohol is, sadly, familiar company. ]
Though I've no idea how much water his plants need. Perhaps I'll simply let them die...
[ His mouth turns down morosely. Yes, let them die like every other finite creature here. ]
[ Just the thought of throwing out Felih's painstakingly cultivated plants has him recoiling and bolting upright. ]
No! He cultivated them for my sake, to produce less pollen...
[ Maybe it's the wine, or maybe it's the memory of making love to Felih whilst surrounded by those very blooms, because he collapses back into his chair with tears running down his cheeks and sobbing he cannot quite muffle. ]
[ Wiping his face, he continues to get morosely drunk. Looks like the bottle is already almost empty. ]
Such is how it always goes. They die and I replace them with another lover... [ He trails off into humourless, self-deprecating laughter. ] What a heartless fiend I am.
[She bites her lip, then tries to gently guide his hand away from the glass. If she pushes too hard, he'll clam up, but could it be she's not pushing hard enough?]
But you wouldn't want it any less even if Felih came back. You're being self-destructive for the sake of it, because you think it's easier than facing your loss. Unfathomably. Were you this bad about it even back in Amaurot, too?
[Surely even the ancients had to deal with loss, before everything went to hell... right?]
'Twas different then: barring tragic accident, we returned to the star at a time of our choosing. There was naught to mourn - only to celebrate.
[ Until the Final Days upended everything. He resists her attempt to remove the glass from his hand, but not in a terribly stubborn way. His words are starting to slur a bit. ]
In the first place, you and he are anomalies. Neither of you are the Warrior that I know, yet...
[Irhya lets that hang in the air for a moment. She's here; she exists, in spite of the fact he's just hit her in a sore spot. Yes, she is the oddity, not everyone else, but...]
I know you won't forget about Felih. I won't either, even though there was so much I didn't ever get to ask him about himself. But I'm here right now, and a hell of a lot more forgiving than the drink if you ask me. I just don't understand why...
What difference does it make?! Someday you will disappear too! You, Felih, even Hythlodaeus is dead! Everyone dies! Except for me, who craves death desperately enough to invite you to be the instrument of my own downfall, only for even that to be denied me!
[ He slumps forward on the table, nearly knocking over his glass, head buried in folded arms.
[She opens her mouth in rebuttal, but stops when he bends over the table with such powerful despair. Instead, the reaction is slow, but she rings her arms around his waist from behind and rests her forehead against his back.]
[ There's muffled sobbing. He curls up more tightly, drawing deep, shaky breaths as he weeps for the one who had been first to worm their way into his heart. Felih's unwavering optimism and naivety had grown on him slowly, paving the way for the others to slowly steal beneath his defences.
This is the curse of immortality. The curse of an enduring life. He would rather die than know further loss. ]
[ If a mere embrace were enough to assuage centuries-long anguish, they would neither of them be in their respective positions back home. He cries for gods know how long, taking some small comfort in the fact that she doesn't let him go. When the tears do eventually subside, he falls into a deep quiet for a while longer.
Eventually, she will feel his hand cover hers and grasp it. ]
[She murmurs it into his back, careful not to let her voice crack. He can't help it. Neither can she. But she has to hold up for him, at least until she can get back to her own place.]
I know. I miss him too. Just let me take care of the plants, okay? I'm no green thumb normally, but I'll figure it out.
[She doesn't expect that request, but logically, if some of it goes to her, less of it goes to him. And... it can't hurt, right? It's not like she'll get tipsy off one glass. Probably.
So, without moving too far, she reaches over him to pour herself a glass one-handedly. When she finishes and moves back, she looks at him.]
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omnicrafter) wrote2020-11-10 05:45 am
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Ah, forcing an immortal to learn the value of fleeting mortal instants...
[But taking shots at each other over it will hardly help. Reluctantly, she lets go, coming around the side of him and reaching to pour herself some wine too.]
I can't grant you oblivion. I can try to provide support, but you have to want it, or it'll be useless.
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I know how brief your moments are. That does not mean I like it.
[ After all, aren't their brief lives but one factor driving him to try and restore the past? ]
...Do as you please, [ he eventually mutters sullenly. ] Only..keep me company..
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[She nods sagely as she says it. It's sarcasm, but also not; he'll never accept it, most likely, but there may be ways to take his mind off of it.]
Did he leave anything behind, if you know?
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Only that.
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Yes, he won't want for little treasures from Felih, that's for sure. But one problem remains... she yells down the hall from the doorway.]
What are you going to do with it all? The plants could get to be a bit much without someone to tend to them.
[Hades, she imagines, is probably not a nurturing person when it comes to gardening. But that's to say nothing of the odds and ends within along with the plants, various books and trinkets she's sure had a value to Felih that may never be known.]
Gods, Felih, you lived like this?
[Irony coming from the one who will mess multiple rooms of her home up for the purpose of crafts.]
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[ This not very loud response as he downs the rest of his wine and goes to pour himself some more. The sour tang of alcohol is, sadly, familiar company. ]
Though I've no idea how much water his plants need. Perhaps I'll simply let them die...
[ His mouth turns down morosely. Yes, let them die like every other finite creature here. ]
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[With a frown, she reaches into Felih's room for the watering can she spies placed on a side table, and brings it to the kitchen to fill it up.]
If you don't want to take care of them, I will. Do I need to spend some time staying here again just to make sure?
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[ He only pauses to eye his glass before taking a long gulp. ]
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[Right? She trails off dubiously.]
Why? Would you prefer to throw them out or shove them onto someone else?
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No! He cultivated them for my sake, to produce less pollen...
[ Maybe it's the wine, or maybe it's the memory of making love to Felih whilst surrounded by those very blooms, because he collapses back into his chair with tears running down his cheeks and sobbing he cannot quite muffle. ]
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[She lets the question hang in the air as she moves away from the door.]
It doesn't have to be a big issue. I can help, too.
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[ Wiping his face, he continues to get morosely drunk. Looks like the bottle is already almost empty. ]
Such is how it always goes. They die and I replace them with another lover... [ He trails off into humourless, self-deprecating laughter. ] What a heartless fiend I am.
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[She makes a glance at the bottle, then crosses the room back over to him again, putting a hand on his shoulder.]
You're drinking that awfully fast, you know.
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[ He tries to shrug off her hand. ]
The sooner I don't have to think, the better. Mayhap this time it will give me the oblivion I so desperately desire.
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But you wouldn't want it any less even if Felih came back. You're being self-destructive for the sake of it, because you think it's easier than facing your loss. Unfathomably. Were you this bad about it even back in Amaurot, too?
[Surely even the ancients had to deal with loss, before everything went to hell... right?]
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[ Until the Final Days upended everything. He resists her attempt to remove the glass from his hand, but not in a terribly stubborn way. His words are starting to slur a bit. ]
In the first place, you and he are anomalies. Neither of you are the Warrior that I know, yet...
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[Irhya lets that hang in the air for a moment. She's here; she exists, in spite of the fact he's just hit her in a sore spot. Yes, she is the oddity, not everyone else, but...]
I know you won't forget about Felih. I won't either, even though there was so much I didn't ever get to ask him about himself. But I'm here right now, and a hell of a lot more forgiving than the drink if you ask me. I just don't understand why...
[Why I'm not good enough, she doesn't say.]
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What difference does it make?! Someday you will disappear too! You, Felih, even Hythlodaeus is dead! Everyone dies! Except for me, who craves death desperately enough to invite you to be the instrument of my own downfall, only for even that to be denied me!
[ He slumps forward on the table, nearly knocking over his glass, head buried in folded arms.
no more, no more, no more ]
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Stop. Please...
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This is the curse of immortality. The curse of an enduring life. He would rather die than know further loss. ]
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It's hard, isn't it? Time is a gift, yet such an inevitable cruelty...
Difficult a pill though it is to swallow, it's true that she probably isn't enough on her own to soothe him. But she can't bear to let go, either.]
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Eventually, she will feel his hand cover hers and grasp it. ]
I'm sorry...
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[She murmurs it into his back, careful not to let her voice crack. He can't help it. Neither can she. But she has to hold up for him, at least until she can get back to her own place.]
I know. I miss him too. Just let me take care of the plants, okay? I'm no green thumb normally, but I'll figure it out.
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[ He slowly pulls himself up off the table, staring despondently at the wine. He feels little urge to drink it now.
Perhaps he was right. Perhaps life is meaningless after all... ]
Help me finish the bottle first.
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[She doesn't expect that request, but logically, if some of it goes to her, less of it goes to him. And... it can't hurt, right? It's not like she'll get tipsy off one glass. Probably.
So, without moving too far, she reaches over him to pour herself a glass one-handedly. When she finishes and moves back, she looks at him.]
Misery loves company, huh?
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