(no subject)

Date: 2023-02-05 12:48 am (UTC)
bloodwhet: (livestock becoming historical figures)
From: [personal profile] bloodwhet
[ 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. ]

(no subject)

Date: 2023-02-07 09:58 pm (UTC)
bloodwhet: (livestock becoming historical figures)
From: [personal profile] bloodwhet
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?

(no subject)

Date: 2023-02-12 10:51 pm (UTC)
bloodwhet: (livestock becoming historical figures)
From: [personal profile] bloodwhet
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. ]

(no subject)

Date: 2023-02-13 12:12 am (UTC)
bloodwhet: (necromancer marries zombie)
From: [personal profile] bloodwhet
Good.

[ 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 10:48 pm (UTC)
bloodwhet: (and i'm punching him with force)
From: [personal profile] bloodwhet
[ 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.

(no subject)

Date: 2023-02-18 11:52 pm (UTC)
bloodwhet: (livestock becoming historical figures)
From: [personal profile] bloodwhet
[ 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.

(no subject)

Date: 2023-02-24 11:14 pm (UTC)
bloodwhet: (livestock becoming historical figures)
From: [personal profile] bloodwhet
[ 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. ]

(no subject)

Date: 2023-02-26 01:39 am (UTC)
bloodwhet: (like it doesn't matter)
From: [personal profile] bloodwhet
[ 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. ]

You are not uncomfortable.

[ That's probably a question. ]

(no subject)

Date: 2023-03-06 12:52 am (UTC)
bloodwhet: (necromancer marries zombie)
From: [personal profile] bloodwhet
[ 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. ]

(no subject)

Date: 2023-06-02 12:06 am (UTC)
bloodwhet: (Default)
From: [personal profile] bloodwhet
[ He does not, cannot, know the slow understanding that the G'raha of the present and future are coming to. Even if he were inclined to use the echo to pry, it would tell him little. But there is an understanding. There must be.

This is - might be - more than he had dared to hope for. He does not want the Exarch to be gone. Of course he does not want that. But if he were willing to steal someone else's chance at life for himself, even if that someone was another him, he would be worse than gone. He would not be the man he thought that he was. It had never occurred to him that the young and old G'raha might be able to share their body. That for once, for once, the price of a world might not be a life.

It is good, perhaps, just this once, that G'raha is so ready to do foolish things. He would never have hoped recklessly enough to achieve this. Would just have carried a stone all across the world for fear of losing any more.

Even if he is still cross.

He bends to lower G'raha to the ground, taking care to support his weight until he can be certain that the mio'te can bear it for himself. ]


I do not think. That that it would harm your dignity. If you were to lean upon me.

(no subject)

Date: 2023-06-02 10:32 pm (UTC)
bloodwhet: (livestock becoming historical figures)
From: [personal profile] bloodwhet
Yes.

[ There is no sense in lying, in trying to pretend he was offering solely for G'raha's sake. It would. It would help. It would probably help. If he knows where G'raha is. If he has proof-

He is tired. Relieved. Afraid. Overjoyed. Angry. Too many things to be, all in a way that he still does not know how to express properly, when he was only ever made to be one thing. He needs to be a warder. He needs a wood to protect. Just until they're back at the Rising Stones and he can go quiet and still and stop thinking.

-If he has proof that G'raha is walking next to him, if he knows exactly where he is and where he needs to be and the path between the two, he can perform the task. ]


Please. Let me help you. Thank you.

(no subject)

Date: 2023-06-04 01:38 am (UTC)
bloodwhet: (so i can fight the sun)
From: [personal profile] bloodwhet
[ He probably shouldn't, but it's too late now. Marcel reaches out cautiously at first, touching G'raha's shouldn't. When he doesn't immediately disappear he wraps his arm around it, bracing the miqo'te against his own body. As he does, the tension starts to fade from him. It's replaced with purpose rather than comfort, but it's probably better. ]

You are. Ready? For seeing everyone. I do not think that you will be able to stop seeing them for some time.

[ It's the human contact version of the 'several cutscenes will play in sequence' warning. Nobody is going to be alone for a while. ]

(no subject)

Date: 2023-06-05 12:49 am (UTC)
bloodwhet: (Default)
From: [personal profile] bloodwhet
The chair is. The part which is not a joke, yes?

[ He might be smiling, despite everything. A little. The change since he was here to clear threats from the tower is dramatic, but that might be the greatest one yet. He understands jokes! Somewhat. He understands at least 10% of jokes.

The Toll has grown a little since G'raha last saw it. In their time at the tower it expanded from a tiny outpost to a thriving community of people. The change isn't as massive as that they saw over the course of that investigation, but it is change nonetheless. New faces. New buildings. New stalls, filled with new wares. But the Seventh Heaven is where it always was, and he leads G'raha through to its back rooms. ]


What-? Oh! You're back. A moment, if you would-

[ It's an all-too-familiar voice. It calls out and then quiets into speaking to someone else. All seems normal. I don't expect you to suffer any ill effects, but- but I will be back! Don't even think of collapsing again while I am gone, you understand?

A warm laugh, Y'shtola's, echoes out from the other room. Her own voice sounds exhausted, a little too much to hear the individual words, but her tone carries the message clearly enough. Go. Have your reunion. ]


Are there three of you? I was only expecting-

[ Krile's face hasn't changed much. She emerges from Dawn's Respite and falls quiet. Her lower lip trembles slightly as she takes a deep breath, immediately discarding the mystery of why she can feel three people when there are only two. ]

Oh, Raha...

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