[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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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?