[It was strange. To finally return to the aetherial sea, after so long in a limbo of sleep... only to suddenly be somewhere else. Alive, and awake, under the light of the sun, and the breeze of the windmills on a mountaintop. There were precious little answers other than that; eventually, Hythlodaeus was ushered to some sort of headquarters, a facility that reminded him much of the research anyders of Amaurot, though far less extravagant. There was some explanation about this world, full of beasts and danger, and the Salamanders were quite adept healers. Well, he wasn't really a very good healer, but he supposed he could learn.
It was... a lot to take in. And Hythlodaeus merely hung the medallion next to his mask (most people here didn't seem to wear them, so he'd left his own over his chest), and he supposed he would simply deal with it. But in his exploration of the Salamanders' headquarters, a familiar face made the situation a bit more easy to process... though the face is, well, not as familiar as he's used to.]
Ah, Emet-selch!
[His smile is still as cheerful as ever; and his eyes would certain never mistake the vibrancy of Emet-selch's soul, though the appearance may change. Still, it is strange... as he gets a closer look at it, it's a bit extravagant for the Emet-selch he knows, and he crosses his arms, one hand curiously held to his chin.]
...You seem a bit shorter than I remember, actually.
[They're of a similar mind, when it comes to this being-- a lot to take in. Emet-Selch has seen various worlds, but he knows the Source and its reflections, and this certainly is not one of them. There are none of the familiar signs, no familiar lifestream winding in and around the world. This is absolutely not where his soul is meant to be.
...but simply traversing the rift is, somehow, not a possibility, and after a few failed experiments in that vein, he has to suppose that he is stuck (for the moment, anyway.) He will have to get his bearings until such time as he finds another way.
It's in this process that he catches a flicker of something so familiar he couldn't possibly mistake it, a color he couldn't possibly have thought belonged to anyone else. He is, for once, struck silent as a painfully familiar voice speaks to him, hardly registering the words until he manages-]
Hythlodaeus? What in the world are you doing here?
[You know, exactly the kind of thing you want to hear from your good friend. But the last time he saw him, truly, was millenia ago, and the last time he heard his voice was...]
It is you, is it not.
[Most people would not pick up on the hint of possible uncertainty in his tone. Hythlodaeus is not most people.]
[The uncertainty is not something he'd usually hear from Emet-selch; the man was confident, and even smug. Though perhaps that wasn't accounting for the difference a thousand years could make?]
What, are your eyes failing you so that you don't even recognize me anymore? [He teases, punctuating it with a little chuckle, as he lowers his arms.]
Truth be told, I haven't the faintest idea why I'm here. One minute I've finally returned to the aetherial sea, and the next I've woken up here. And on top of that, my dear friend is doubting my very presence!
[He tilts his head curiously, one hand on his hip as the other thoughtfully held the end of his chin.]
How interesting... you were already there by the time I returned to the sea, but it seems that you don't remember it. Perhaps it has to do with your strange appearance...?
I am aware I ought to be there, but I believe I was interrupted in the journey by arriving here, instead.
[Which is equally troubling! Clearly something has happened, following his death, but the last thing he remembers...
He shakes his head. No sense lingering on that thought. Or on the mention of his appearance, for that matter, when there are more important topics at hand.]
...loathe as I am to ask what could possibly have gone so wrong after my passing: how did your soul ever return?
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[action, salamanders' lodge] backdated before the kaiju attack because we all have great timing
It was... a lot to take in. And Hythlodaeus merely hung the medallion next to his mask (most people here didn't seem to wear them, so he'd left his own over his chest), and he supposed he would simply deal with it. But in his exploration of the Salamanders' headquarters, a familiar face made the situation a bit more easy to process... though the face is, well, not as familiar as he's used to.]
Ah, Emet-selch!
[His smile is still as cheerful as ever; and his eyes would certain never mistake the vibrancy of Emet-selch's soul, though the appearance may change. Still, it is strange... as he gets a closer look at it, it's a bit extravagant for the Emet-selch he knows, and he crosses his arms, one hand curiously held to his chin.]
...You seem a bit shorter than I remember, actually.
it's fine our timing is great
...but simply traversing the rift is, somehow, not a possibility, and after a few failed experiments in that vein, he has to suppose that he is stuck (for the moment, anyway.) He will have to get his bearings until such time as he finds another way.
It's in this process that he catches a flicker of something so familiar he couldn't possibly mistake it, a color he couldn't possibly have thought belonged to anyone else. He is, for once, struck silent as a painfully familiar voice speaks to him, hardly registering the words until he manages-]
Hythlodaeus? What in the world are you doing here?
[You know, exactly the kind of thing you want to hear from your good friend. But the last time he saw him, truly, was millenia ago, and the last time he heard his voice was...]
It is you, is it not.
[Most people would not pick up on the hint of possible uncertainty in his tone. Hythlodaeus is not most people.]
no subject
What, are your eyes failing you so that you don't even recognize me anymore? [He teases, punctuating it with a little chuckle, as he lowers his arms.]
Truth be told, I haven't the faintest idea why I'm here. One minute I've finally returned to the aetherial sea, and the next I've woken up here. And on top of that, my dear friend is doubting my very presence!
no subject
[There's no mistaking that soul-- there never would be. His arms fold as he takes that answer in, though, brow furrowing in a deeper frown.]
But to my knowledge, you should not have been there, either. Were your soul present in the aetherial sea, I most certainly would have known.
[-and the implications aren't ones he cares to consider, though he's already mentally running through possibilities.]
no subject
[He tilts his head curiously, one hand on his hip as the other thoughtfully held the end of his chin.]
How interesting... you were already there by the time I returned to the sea, but it seems that you don't remember it. Perhaps it has to do with your strange appearance...?
no subject
[Which is equally troubling! Clearly something has happened, following his death, but the last thing he remembers...
He shakes his head. No sense lingering on that thought. Or on the mention of his appearance, for that matter, when there are more important topics at hand.]
...loathe as I am to ask what could possibly have gone so wrong after my passing: how did your soul ever return?