[ One person comes to mind above all others. They have never spoken about Krile, really, beyond him passing the occasional fond, exhausted, heartsore messages from her in recent moons. And she only rarely speaks of him. A few words of fond reminiscence back on Val. A long look away followed by an exasperated sigh and a smile when she learned about everything after Emet-Selch's defeat. Always using his given name
He nods, then looks up again. Holds out his arms. ]
[ There's a moment where G'raha reaches out, then hesitates. Reaches out again then stops. Again, it's a moment of disconnect. The younger and the older not quite meeting in the middle. Marcel can likely sense something is going on, since G'raha's gaze seems to go out of focus. A discussion between two souls. One insisting that they don't need to inconvenience the Warrior. The other more reassuring that this much can be and will always be permitted.
Once a hand grasps Marcel's arm, one soul grows silent. Settles into the back of this shared consciousness of theirs. ]
None of this is going quite as anticipated. [ Ah, Exarch. That seems to be the one at the forefront. ] The chances of this particular scenario occurring were so infinitesimally small, I didn't prepare for it.
[ Carefully, he gathers G'raha's body up into his arms and braces him against his chest. The throne is massive, and he isn't at all willing to let G'raha trust his own legs with the descent after so long in stillness. Truthfully, right now, he'd struggle to let G'raha trust himself with anything. He jumps down, leaving the throne as empty as if should always have been. ]
What. What was it. That you anticipated. [ He asks, utterly failing to convey in his tone that it's a question. He doesn't know what answer he wants to hear. All of them sound painful. Then softer, eyeing the floor like he isn't sure he trusts G'raha with that, either- ] Can you walk.
[ He should probably at least offer the option, even if he doesn't like it. ]
[ A hand goes to Marcel's chest as the Viera gives him space - meaning he thinks to actually try to walk. Now both of them are sure that Marcel doesn't really want to hear what the Exarch has to say on the matter. ]
One soul would consume the other. [ Though the younger G'raha is yelling for the Exarch not to say that, it can't be helped. Marcel deserves the truth. ] Either the years on one would give it strength to over take the other... Or the original inhabitant would offer naught but rejection.
[ That's all there really is to say on the matter. The Exarch's soul would just be lost, just as it had been originally planned. But this... ]
[ He just nods, expression unchanging. There is no need to tell this G'raha-Exarch-thing in his arms how much he dislikes this. He knows.
It would seem almost reverent, the way that he bows to set the Exarch down, if one didn't know that he is exactly as careful with everyone he encounters. Little by little he lowers him to the ground until his feet touch crystal. Even then, he continues to bear his weight, returning it an onze at a time as he becomes more certain that G'raha's legs can bear it. ]
This is not yours. Not yet. [ Softly, firmly, hands still holding on to the Exarch. ] You have borrowed this body. You will treat it as a thing borrowed. Until. Until this is done.
[ And he lowers his head to touch G'raha's forehead to his own, holding it there for a long moment before letting go to allow him to stand on his own. ]
It is good to speak with you again. You are. Very quiet. When you are a stone.
[ At first it is just going to be seeing if he can bear the weight at all. Oh he wishes that he could say that he has muscle memory for this, but it has been a while since the Exarch has walked without crystal affecting his body. It's been a little while since G'raha has been free to walk as well.
The response, however, is somewhat amusing. At least is is to the Exarch. G'raha is somewhere back there being flustered that Marcel seems to be so adamant about this. Firm. ]
Borrowed. I see. No need to worry, I assure you.
[ Maybe Marcel can detect that he doesn't quite fully agree with that statement. He is here now and while it is surprising that this younger self of his must value himself enough not to fade, he has no intentions of giving up either. No, the Exarch is quite confident that they can come to terms.
Those thoughts are derailed with the press of a forehead to his own. Carefully, there is a gentle press back. An explanation given to the curious soul about why this is a thing happening right now. ]
Crystal, not stone.
[ Oh that's definitely both of them correcting Marcel right now. ]
Borrowed. Do not become hurt until this is done. Or. Or it will be like making a library book become hurt.
[ Yes, he is under the impression that this comparison is more likely to impress upon the Exarch that being hurt is bad than anything else.
He speaks more naturally with the Exarch than he had with G'raha, clumsy as he still is with his works. Easily. His pauses are shorter. While he still sounds distant, his voice is worlds warmer. As if somewhere in the last few years he learned that he enjoys talking, even if he is still remarkably bad at it. ]
You are very quiet. When you are a very small piece of auracite. That is covered in blood. [ -and also he is at least somewhat capable of talking back. ]
I would argue it is more akin to taking well worn pages from a tattered tome and the cover from the same, but newer tome and stitching them together.
[ Only now some of the pages from the old tome and the new tome are both in there. But it is the same tome nonetheless in the Exarch's view. Surprisingly, G'raha agrees with that assessment.
At the end of the day, it's not as though either one really sees the problem with this, with what has been done. The Exarch had given a choice to Marcel. Entrusted his soul to Marcel. So it is Marcel that elected to show the auracite to G'raha. Without understanding the implications of it or what G'raha's choice would be... He had already made it.
Both of them inside this skin, this body, understand. Now they simply have to learn how to fit themselves together. ]
I apologize for the silence, my friend. Were I able to convey thoughts through contact with the auracite, I would have gladly.
[ Ah, but his legs are so stiff. A few steps and he already sees how difficult it is going to be to get anywhere likes this. Hmm. He's waving his hand about, expecting a staff to weave an appropriate spell or for the Tower to fix it and - ]
[ He considers that metaphor, frowns, and drops the topic. It sounds like a cruel thing to do to a book, but he doesn't know enough about books to actually know if it is something that one does. ]
Were you. Able to hear from it. [ He's using 'hear' as a shorthand for every sense. ] I am not very often a stone. I do not know these things.
[ And finally, it's something both the Exarch and G'raha will be almost equally confused by. There wasn't exactly a lot of time to discuss Azem's memory stone before. But that concern goes out of the window immediately when the Exarch looks to be struggling upon his borrowed legs. He doesn't pick him up immediately, but he does move closer. ]
I am here. [ And he extends an arm out, inviting the exarch to lean against him. ]
[ Oh the auracite. Had he heard Marcel from within his little prison. And the younger G'raha's ears are perking at the sound of "not very often a stone." What's that about? ]
Would that I could say that I did. Alas, voices can't truly reach where I was.
[ He notices that Marcel is there. Considers for a moment being stubborn... But then leans against Marcel as if to give him permission. ]
Oh. [ And for a long moment, he leaves it at that. When the exarch leans against him, he coils an arm around his smaller, borrowed body and braces it against his own. Taking a little of his weight, but just enough to let him still walk for himself. Even if it means that they'll be going slowly. ] I have said many horrible things about you. While you were not listening. And I will not tell you what they are.
[ That's. Probably. An attempt at a joke, something else that he never used to be capable of. And that, in truth, he is still not capable of. The pixies are trying their best but a lot of pixie jokes aren't so much jokes as 'just telling lies'.
Eventually, eventually they reach that great golden door. The one that has opened and closed and opened and closed and opened so many times, someone new behind it each time. He pauses before they reach it, just before the Exarch's feet would touch the sliver of dull, cloudy daylight streaming in from the one slightly-open door he'd slipped in through. ]
You are. Ready to leave? [ A pause, then, as if to clarify. ] He is. Ready to leave?
[ They will be going slowly, but it's not as though the Exarch minds. Meanwhile G'raha grows a bit silent. Contemplative and watching more than anything else. Learning from these silent interactions. Gently tapping at memories that aren't his own and yet now they are.
No, the older version of this soul just allows for this, a nice happy medium between not burdening Marcel and also letting the Viera help. At first ears twitch and perk at the "horrible things." Then they fold against his head and there's a breathless laugh. ]
No doubt there were. I rightfully deserve them. Yet I cannot say that I truly feel repentant.
[ Onward they go and oh. Oh it's so strange to see the Tower as it once was and not how it is in the First. To think how much has changed and how much needs to still... At the very least, both souls can agree upon the things to prepare for, that they are needed with the others and not locked up in the Tower.
That, at least, is progress. ]
We are ready, yes. I think the other finally is starting to see some sense.
You never do. Not ever. For the things that you ought to be repentant for.
[ It's a reprimand. But it isn't a firm one. The kind of fond, soft, resigned disapproval reserved for things that will never change. Carefully, as if the thin strip of sunlight might make the exarch's borrowed body vanish upon contact if he gets something wrong, he steps forward. And forward. And forward.
It is fifteen steps, in the end, before they are on the other side of those doors. There, Marcel turns back and pulls them shut. Then takes the empty, dull auracite from one of the pockets inside his cloak and holds it out. ]
Hello. Stay closed for now. Safe. Please. Thank you.
[ Yes, he is talking to the door exactly the same way he talks to people. ]
You are not wrong, of course. Though were I repentant, doubtful would we be here at all.
[ He is very helpfully pointing that out. Though isn't he simply doing as he has been told to do? To live and latch onto life itself? To not think of himself as expendable?
Which is... Actually quite opening for this younger version of himself. To think that there would be a time where such a thing is actually being considered. That there might actually be worth and that there are those who do desire his presence. G'raha is sitting there, reflecting in that corner he has temporarily tucked himself away in. The Exarch actually kindly reminds him that it is their greatest wish - to be allowed to fight alongside those that they care for.
This is an opportunity to do just that. ]
Perhaps I might find myself properly scolded when the elation wears off.
[ But then they are through the doors. Both of the souls see through red eyes at how they close. Marcel speaking to the mechanisms as if they are truly alive. There is something that settles within the chest of both G'raha and the Exarch upon the sight of it. Upon the knowledge that they are well and truly leaving the Tower behind. Moving onward. Forging ahead, so to speak. ]
None will enter unless you or I are present. Worry not.
[ And he pats the door in approval. Good door, opening when he wants it to open and closing when he wants it to be closed. It's taken it a while, but this is ideal door behaviour.
He had not realised how much more alive G'raha would look, outside of the tower. In the sunlight, without the blue of everything draining the red from his face and hair. A little weak-looking, perhaps, from the long sleep. But alive. Alive and happpy, despite everything. He closes his eyes. His breath comes out stuttering. And that's the only warning he gives before he pulls the Exarch, pulls G'raha, in close to himself and wraps his arms around him tightly. ]
I am still. Very cross with you, Raha. You are not allowed to think that I am not cross. But I am glad that you are here. For me to be cross with.
[ It is very much a Miqo'te looking back at Marcel. There's an amused curl to his lip, eyes bright for a change. A tail lazily swings back and forth while ears seem to be perking up. Awake and alert, if not weak, yes. Hair a bit longer than it should be and nails needing clipped. But all in all he is there and alive. Not asleep. Not encased in crystal.
Here.
And there's even more surprise when marcel pulls him into a hug. Ears once more jerk high upon his head. That tail lashes back and forth, betraying surprise and delight. There's even a shocked chirp that he's sure that he'll be embarrassed about later. Both share in these feelings. Both are embarrassed that they are happy about it too. It's probably the first time since waking that both souls are in complete agreement.
Neither one can discern which G'raha Tia that Marcel means. They decide that it's probably both. ]
If this is how you are when you are cross, it's a surprise that you have enemies at all.
[ Now that comment is more in line with how the Exarch would say it... But it's definitely not in the same tone. That one would be all G'raha Tia. ]
[ When the Exarch speaks - when G'raha speaks, his hold tightens. Not painfully, but distinctly. As if he thinks he can safely combine the two souls by squeezing them together with enough force. ]
It is. Not difficult. To prevent people from doing strange things when they wish to be enemies with you. [ A prideful little correction there. He does not have enemies, he has people who want to be enemies with him, who he does not feel like acknowledging. ] There is no need to be cross with them.
[ Just a moment longer. Just a moment longer, and he'll let go and continue. Probably. ]
It is very difficult to prevent people from doing very strange things. When they are so dear to me. And so I must be cross.
[ Very carefully, slowly. Tentatively... Does an arm raise. A hand find itself upon Marcel's elbow in something like a return embrace. He - they - are both still careful. And it's probably in these moments, where the lines that define them start to well and truly blur. For neither G'raha nor the Exarch want to cause the Viera any upset. Both treasure this person that seems to hold onto them fast.
And it's crushing him. Making his heart ache because when had been the last time - for either soul - that they had been actually embraced like this? By someone that means something to them? Eyes sting and a face scrunches up as Raha tries to keep it together. It's okay if Marcel is cross at him because he is alive. They are all alive.
Plus... They are dear to each other. ]
I wish I could say that I have been properly reprimanded. Yet at the moment I can feel naught but elation.
[ He stills for a moment, when G'raha's hand - and they are G'raha's hands, even if he cannot quite place who it is that moves them - raises to touch him. Gives it a few quiet seconds, a little uncertain whether to trust this, this time. And then he relaxes. He doesn't let go, but the tension leaves his hold. There's a soft, quiet almost-sound. Something like clicking.
He is tired and still a little afraid, and unwilling to let anyone forget that he is cross. But this is good. This feels safe. ]
Do you still want. To walk.
[ Unfortunately, his fear of chocobos leaves few other options, not when he has no idea if it is safe for G'raha to teleport in his current state. ]
It is not difficult to carry you. You are very small.
[ Those feline ears perk at the sound. Twitch a little. There's a sound that's never been heard before. It's... It's curious. And there should be more of that sound. How do they get that sound to come out more often alongside such gentle touches from the Viera.
G'raha is transfixed for a moment, eyes dilating a bit more in response to that sound. It's like he has found something of interest. Though given the fact that this is Marcel? What is there that isn't of interest?
Ah wait. Marcel is speaking... ]
Right. Walking.
[ It would be better for him to. For them to. However, there's still concern in Marcel's voice, quiet as it has become. ]
[ The good news is that G'raha will be hearing that sound a lot more in the near future. It isn't particularly uncommon to hear it in the Rising Stones these days. ]
What. Is your compromise?
[ He holds on to G'raha for just a little too long after asking that, as if he doesn't quite trust him to stay there if he lets go. When he does let go it's little by little. He places his hands on his upper arms - softly, this time - instead of wrapping his arms around him. ]
I do not object. To your walking. If you are able. It is only- [ His face scrunches up as he tries to find the correct words. ] -important. That you know that I can carry you. I do not wish for you to walk if it is because you think that I am too weak.
[ The bad news is that now G'raha has to deal with a good half of Marcel's only braincell being dedicated to informing everyone at all times that he is very strong. ]
[ There is only a little disappointment when Marcel starts to gradually release him. Both parties struggle with wanting that sort of attention - to be touched and held in a manner that is welcome. It has been some time since either one has been able to embraced at all. There's almost a longing that goes with it.
Thankfully Marcel doesn't release G'raha Tia fully. Instead the worry and concern bleeds through. G'raha would think to reassure Marcel that they aren't going anywhere. The Exarch says nothing about it at all, resigned to the fact that this Viera is going to worry and fuss over him all the same. ]
I know that you are strong, my friend. This was never in question. Your aid wouldn't have been required otherwise.
[ He reaches up to give one of those hands a gentle pat. ]
The compromise is for dignity's sake. A long walk will exhaust the body to the point where it might be a very poor choice to continue. Thus carrying us would be preferable... Up to the entrance to the outpost proper.
[ It is a relief when people say things plainly. He understands 'for dignity's sake', worlds more clearly than he has ever understood vague sentiments about there being no need for him to trouble himself. Not wanting others to come to the mistaken conclusion that one is weak is one of very few things that he understands very well indeed. And so now he understands what is needed of him and why, and that he should probably steer clear of the find for the moment, and that whether they are visible from the toll is more important than actual proximity.
Wanting to understand why he is doing things is new, but he's finding he likes it. In the absence of always knowing what is needed of him, knowing why lets him start to fill in the empty spaces in his understanding for himself. ]
I am. Fond. Of this compromise.
[ He takes another moment to remain as they are, his fingers delicately touching the skin (skin, and not stone. Skin) of G'raha's arms. G'raha's own hand patting his reassuringly. He feels stronger now than he did even but a few minutes ago. Strong enough to - after only a moment's pause - bend to sweep G'raha up into his arms. Even as worn as he is, it's close to effortless. The Exarch's choices of words - the body, acknowledging that it is shared. 'Us'. - are more of a weight lifted from him than G'raha himself could ever be a burden. ]
[ It's almost palatable, actually, how much that explanation and the words chosen seem to relax Marcel. G'raha - the whole of him - is more at ease for it. Whatever compromise the two souls within this body come up with, that's between them. However, they can at least agree upon that Marcel is very dear and precious. That this Viera deserves peace and much, much more. ]
Full glad am I that you're agee-hee!?
[ That is definitely a Miqo'te yelping and half flailing at being scooped up. Marcel does it so effortlessly that it brings color to his face and there's a flush of heat that accompanies it.
[ His arms are full of wiggly miqo'te with too much heartbeat. It's so much better than still mystel without and heartbeat at all. It is good. ]
I will tell you. The next time I have decided to lift you.
[ He falls quiet during the journey. Even having slept as long as he has, he suspects G'raha needs rest. And talking comes easier these days, but he's enjoying the quietness right now. It lets him focus on the certainty that there is a loving body is his arms. A warm, living weight. The monsters don't bother them much, but he breaks the silence to snarl and bare his teeth at those that do, pulling G'raha to his chest more tightly. ]
We are growing close.
[ He says it softly as another hippocerf skitters away. The walls would be visible from here, were they not obscured by trees and a large section of what used to be a warship before it encountered the wyrmfather. He says it, but he doesn't actually put G'raha down. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2023-02-02 12:24 am (UTC)[ One person comes to mind above all others. They have never spoken about Krile, really, beyond him passing the occasional fond, exhausted, heartsore messages from her in recent moons. And she only rarely speaks of him. A few words of fond reminiscence back on Val. A long look away followed by an exasperated sigh and a smile when she learned about everything after Emet-Selch's defeat. Always using his given name
He nods, then looks up again. Holds out his arms. ]
I will. If you allow me. I will take you to her.
(no subject)
Date: 2023-02-03 05:14 am (UTC)Once a hand grasps Marcel's arm, one soul grows silent. Settles into the back of this shared consciousness of theirs. ]
None of this is going quite as anticipated. [ Ah, Exarch. That seems to be the one at the forefront. ] The chances of this particular scenario occurring were so infinitesimally small, I didn't prepare for it.
(no subject)
Date: 2023-02-04 12:06 am (UTC)What. What was it. That you anticipated. [ He asks, utterly failing to convey in his tone that it's a question. He doesn't know what answer he wants to hear. All of them sound painful. Then softer, eyeing the floor like he isn't sure he trusts G'raha with that, either- ] Can you walk.
[ He should probably at least offer the option, even if he doesn't like it. ]
(no subject)
Date: 2023-02-04 01:22 am (UTC)One soul would consume the other. [ Though the younger G'raha is yelling for the Exarch not to say that, it can't be helped. Marcel deserves the truth. ] Either the years on one would give it strength to over take the other... Or the original inhabitant would offer naught but rejection.
[ That's all there really is to say on the matter. The Exarch's soul would just be lost, just as it had been originally planned. But this... ]
I would like to try to walk, if you don't mind.
(no subject)
Date: 2023-02-04 01:40 pm (UTC)It would seem almost reverent, the way that he bows to set the Exarch down, if one didn't know that he is exactly as careful with everyone he encounters. Little by little he lowers him to the ground until his feet touch crystal. Even then, he continues to bear his weight, returning it an onze at a time as he becomes more certain that G'raha's legs can bear it. ]
This is not yours. Not yet. [ Softly, firmly, hands still holding on to the Exarch. ] You have borrowed this body. You will treat it as a thing borrowed. Until. Until this is done.
[ And he lowers his head to touch G'raha's forehead to his own, holding it there for a long moment before letting go to allow him to stand on his own. ]
It is good to speak with you again. You are. Very quiet. When you are a stone.
(no subject)
Date: 2023-02-04 08:26 pm (UTC)The response, however, is somewhat amusing. At least is is to the Exarch. G'raha is somewhere back there being flustered that Marcel seems to be so adamant about this. Firm. ]
Borrowed. I see. No need to worry, I assure you.
[ Maybe Marcel can detect that he doesn't quite fully agree with that statement. He is here now and while it is surprising that this younger self of his must value himself enough not to fade, he has no intentions of giving up either. No, the Exarch is quite confident that they can come to terms.
Those thoughts are derailed with the press of a forehead to his own. Carefully, there is a gentle press back. An explanation given to the curious soul about why this is a thing happening right now. ]
Crystal, not stone.
[ Oh that's definitely both of them correcting Marcel right now. ]
(no subject)
Date: 2023-02-04 09:00 pm (UTC)[ Yes, he is under the impression that this comparison is more likely to impress upon the Exarch that being hurt is bad than anything else.
He speaks more naturally with the Exarch than he had with G'raha, clumsy as he still is with his works. Easily. His pauses are shorter. While he still sounds distant, his voice is worlds warmer. As if somewhere in the last few years he learned that he enjoys talking, even if he is still remarkably bad at it. ]
You are very quiet. When you are a very small piece of auracite. That is covered in blood. [ -and also he is at least somewhat capable of talking back. ]
(no subject)
Date: 2023-02-04 11:51 pm (UTC)[ Only now some of the pages from the old tome and the new tome are both in there. But it is the same tome nonetheless in the Exarch's view. Surprisingly, G'raha agrees with that assessment.
At the end of the day, it's not as though either one really sees the problem with this, with what has been done. The Exarch had given a choice to Marcel. Entrusted his soul to Marcel. So it is Marcel that elected to show the auracite to G'raha. Without understanding the implications of it or what G'raha's choice would be... He had already made it.
Both of them inside this skin, this body, understand. Now they simply have to learn how to fit themselves together. ]
I apologize for the silence, my friend. Were I able to convey thoughts through contact with the auracite, I would have gladly.
[ Ah, but his legs are so stiff. A few steps and he already sees how difficult it is going to be to get anywhere likes this. Hmm. He's waving his hand about, expecting a staff to weave an appropriate spell or for the Tower to fix it and - ]
Ah.
[ Nothing. ]
(no subject)
Date: 2023-02-05 12:48 am (UTC)Were you. Able to hear from it. [ He's using 'hear' as a shorthand for every sense. ] I am not very often a stone. I do not know these things.
[ And finally, it's something both the Exarch and G'raha will be almost equally confused by. There wasn't exactly a lot of time to discuss Azem's memory stone before. But that concern goes out of the window immediately when the Exarch looks to be struggling upon his borrowed legs. He doesn't pick him up immediately, but he does move closer. ]
I am here. [ And he extends an arm out, inviting the exarch to lean against him. ]
(no subject)
Date: 2023-02-07 12:48 am (UTC)[ Oh the auracite. Had he heard Marcel from within his little prison. And the younger G'raha's ears are perking at the sound of "not very often a stone." What's that about? ]
Would that I could say that I did. Alas, voices can't truly reach where I was.
[ He notices that Marcel is there. Considers for a moment being stubborn... But then leans against Marcel as if to give him permission. ]
(no subject)
Date: 2023-02-07 09:58 pm (UTC)[ That's. Probably. An attempt at a joke, something else that he never used to be capable of. And that, in truth, he is still not capable of. The pixies are trying their best but a lot of pixie jokes aren't so much jokes as 'just telling lies'.
Eventually, eventually they reach that great golden door. The one that has opened and closed and opened and closed and opened so many times, someone new behind it each time. He pauses before they reach it, just before the Exarch's feet would touch the sliver of dull, cloudy daylight streaming in from the one slightly-open door he'd slipped in through. ]
You are. Ready to leave? [ A pause, then, as if to clarify. ] He is. Ready to leave?
(no subject)
Date: 2023-02-11 11:54 pm (UTC)No, the older version of this soul just allows for this, a nice happy medium between not burdening Marcel and also letting the Viera help. At first ears twitch and perk at the "horrible things." Then they fold against his head and there's a breathless laugh. ]
No doubt there were. I rightfully deserve them. Yet I cannot say that I truly feel repentant.
[ Onward they go and oh. Oh it's so strange to see the Tower as it once was and not how it is in the First. To think how much has changed and how much needs to still... At the very least, both souls can agree upon the things to prepare for, that they are needed with the others and not locked up in the Tower.
That, at least, is progress. ]
We are ready, yes. I think the other finally is starting to see some sense.
(no subject)
Date: 2023-02-12 10:51 pm (UTC)[ It's a reprimand. But it isn't a firm one. The kind of fond, soft, resigned disapproval reserved for things that will never change. Carefully, as if the thin strip of sunlight might make the exarch's borrowed body vanish upon contact if he gets something wrong, he steps forward. And forward. And forward.
It is fifteen steps, in the end, before they are on the other side of those doors. There, Marcel turns back and pulls them shut. Then takes the empty, dull auracite from one of the pockets inside his cloak and holds it out. ]
Hello. Stay closed for now. Safe. Please. Thank you.
[ Yes, he is talking to the door exactly the same way he talks to people. ]
(no subject)
Date: 2023-02-12 11:22 pm (UTC)[ He is very helpfully pointing that out. Though isn't he simply doing as he has been told to do? To live and latch onto life itself? To not think of himself as expendable?
Which is... Actually quite opening for this younger version of himself. To think that there would be a time where such a thing is actually being considered. That there might actually be worth and that there are those who do desire his presence. G'raha is sitting there, reflecting in that corner he has temporarily tucked himself away in. The Exarch actually kindly reminds him that it is their greatest wish - to be allowed to fight alongside those that they care for.
This is an opportunity to do just that. ]
Perhaps I might find myself properly scolded when the elation wears off.
[ But then they are through the doors. Both of the souls see through red eyes at how they close. Marcel speaking to the mechanisms as if they are truly alive. There is something that settles within the chest of both G'raha and the Exarch upon the sight of it. Upon the knowledge that they are well and truly leaving the Tower behind. Moving onward. Forging ahead, so to speak. ]
None will enter unless you or I are present. Worry not.
(no subject)
Date: 2023-02-13 12:12 am (UTC)[ And he pats the door in approval. Good door, opening when he wants it to open and closing when he wants it to be closed. It's taken it a while, but this is ideal door behaviour.
He had not realised how much more alive G'raha would look, outside of the tower. In the sunlight, without the blue of everything draining the red from his face and hair. A little weak-looking, perhaps, from the long sleep. But alive. Alive and happpy, despite everything. He closes his eyes. His breath comes out stuttering. And that's the only warning he gives before he pulls the Exarch, pulls G'raha, in close to himself and wraps his arms around him tightly. ]
I am still. Very cross with you, Raha. You are not allowed to think that I am not cross. But I am glad that you are here. For me to be cross with.
(no subject)
Date: 2023-02-17 07:03 am (UTC)Here.
And there's even more surprise when marcel pulls him into a hug. Ears once more jerk high upon his head. That tail lashes back and forth, betraying surprise
and delight. There's even a shocked chirp that he's sure that he'll be embarrassed about later. Both share in these feelings. Both are embarrassed that they are happy about it too. It's probably the first time since waking that both souls are in complete agreement.Neither one can discern which G'raha Tia that Marcel means. They decide that it's probably both. ]
If this is how you are when you are cross, it's a surprise that you have enemies at all.
[ Now that comment is more in line with how the Exarch would say it... But it's definitely not in the same tone. That one would be all G'raha Tia. ]
(no subject)
Date: 2023-02-17 10:48 pm (UTC)It is. Not difficult. To prevent people from doing strange things when they wish to be enemies with you. [ A prideful little correction there. He does not have enemies, he has people who want to be enemies with him, who he does not feel like acknowledging. ] There is no need to be cross with them.
[ Just a moment longer. Just a moment longer, and he'll let go and continue. Probably. ]
It is very difficult to prevent people from doing very strange things. When they are so dear to me. And so I must be cross.
(no subject)
Date: 2023-02-18 10:54 pm (UTC)And it's crushing him. Making his heart ache because when had been the last time - for either soul - that they had been actually embraced like this? By someone that means something to them? Eyes sting and a face scrunches up as Raha tries to keep it together. It's okay if Marcel is cross at him because he is alive. They are all alive.
Plus... They are dear to each other. ]
I wish I could say that I have been properly reprimanded. Yet at the moment I can feel naught but elation.
(no subject)
Date: 2023-02-18 11:52 pm (UTC)He is tired and still a little afraid, and unwilling to let anyone forget that he is cross. But this is good. This feels safe. ]
Do you still want. To walk.
[ Unfortunately, his fear of chocobos leaves few other options, not when he has no idea if it is safe for G'raha to teleport in his current state. ]
It is not difficult to carry you. You are very small.
(no subject)
Date: 2023-02-23 03:32 am (UTC)G'raha is transfixed for a moment, eyes dilating a bit more in response to that sound. It's like he has found something of interest. Though given the fact that this is Marcel? What is there that isn't of interest?
Ah wait. Marcel is speaking... ]
Right. Walking.
[ It would be better for him to. For them to. However, there's still concern in Marcel's voice, quiet as it has become. ]
How about a compromise?
(no subject)
Date: 2023-02-24 11:14 pm (UTC)What. Is your compromise?
[ He holds on to G'raha for just a little too long after asking that, as if he doesn't quite trust him to stay there if he lets go. When he does let go it's little by little. He places his hands on his upper arms - softly, this time - instead of wrapping his arms around him. ]
I do not object. To your walking. If you are able. It is only- [ His face scrunches up as he tries to find the correct words. ] -important. That you know that I can carry you. I do not wish for you to walk if it is because you think that I am too weak.
[ The bad news is that now G'raha has to deal with a good half of Marcel's only braincell being dedicated to informing everyone at all times that he is very strong. ]
(no subject)
Date: 2023-02-25 01:01 am (UTC)Thankfully Marcel doesn't release G'raha Tia fully. Instead the worry and concern bleeds through. G'raha would think to reassure Marcel that they aren't going anywhere. The Exarch says nothing about it at all, resigned to the fact that this Viera is going to worry and fuss over him all the same. ]
I know that you are strong, my friend. This was never in question. Your aid wouldn't have been required otherwise.
[ He reaches up to give one of those hands a gentle pat. ]
The compromise is for dignity's sake. A long walk will exhaust the body to the point where it might be a very poor choice to continue. Thus carrying us would be preferable... Up to the entrance to the outpost proper.
(no subject)
Date: 2023-02-26 01:39 am (UTC)Wanting to understand why he is doing things is new, but he's finding he likes it. In the absence of always knowing what is needed of him, knowing why lets him start to fill in the empty spaces in his understanding for himself. ]
I am. Fond. Of this compromise.
[ He takes another moment to remain as they are, his fingers delicately touching the skin (skin, and not stone. Skin) of G'raha's arms. G'raha's own hand patting his reassuringly. He feels stronger now than he did even but a few minutes ago. Strong enough to - after only a moment's pause - bend to sweep G'raha up into his arms. Even as worn as he is, it's close to effortless. The Exarch's choices of words - the body, acknowledging that it is shared. 'Us'. - are more of a weight lifted from him than G'raha himself could ever be a burden. ]
You are not uncomfortable.
[ That's probably a question. ]
(no subject)
Date: 2023-03-04 01:30 am (UTC)Full glad am I that you're agee-hee!?
[ That is definitely a Miqo'te yelping and half flailing at being scooped up. Marcel does it so effortlessly that it brings color to his face and there's a flush of heat that accompanies it.
His heart is going malms a minute here! ]
A-a warning! Next t-time, perhaps?
(no subject)
Date: 2023-03-06 12:52 am (UTC)I will tell you. The next time I have decided to lift you.
[ He falls quiet during the journey. Even having slept as long as he has, he suspects G'raha needs rest. And talking comes easier these days, but he's enjoying the quietness right now. It lets him focus on the certainty that there is a loving body is his arms. A warm, living weight. The monsters don't bother them much, but he breaks the silence to snarl and bare his teeth at those that do, pulling G'raha to his chest more tightly. ]
We are growing close.
[ He says it softly as another hippocerf skitters away. The walls would be visible from here, were they not obscured by trees and a large section of what used to be a warship before it encountered the wyrmfather. He says it, but he doesn't actually put G'raha down. ]
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