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( When Emet-Selch wakes, it's likely the first thing he'll smell is the appetising aroma of fresh coffee wafting into the bedroom from somewhere further inside the apartment. Hythlodaeus's government-issued housing is relatively humble — it's clean and tidy, with much of the same decor and accents found elsewhere in Sumarlok — but the single bedroom and small lounge suggest it wasn't created with luxury in mind. As such, the sound of an ancient tune lost to time will likely filter through as well: Hythlodaeus is humming as he works, or so it would seem, and something is making him think of home.

Of Amaurot, and the world they once shared.

A few long moments pass before the humming finally stops, followed by the soft pad of footsteps appoaching the bedroom again. Hythlodaeus slips in with a tray held between both hands: coffee, and fresh juice should Emet-Selch find himself in the mood for something sweeter, as well as a plate of what appears to be slice apples and honey for dipping.

A light breakfast, but then he suspects neither of them will be in the mood for anything heavier. Unsure whether he's actually awake, Hythlodaeus moves over to the far side of the bed and sets the tray down atop the bedside table, where he admires his handiwork for a moment before climbing back onto the mattress. He's dressed for the morning in what appears to be a large, loose cardigan made from some kind of fluffy lilac material, and a pair of soft knitted socks that reach up over the knee to his thighs. Setting his back against the headboard, Hythlodaeus folds his legs to the side as he shifts to look down at his bedmate, one finger reaching out to stroke a lock of dark hair back behind the shell of his ear.

If he's still sleeping, Hythlodaeus will let him rest. No need to hurry such a quiet moment — not one he's been aching for for over ten thousand years. )

[It's almost enough, in the moments before he opens his eyes, to think he either truly has returned to the sea-- or that he's returned, somehow, to the past. There's a familiar warmth to the scent of the place, to that tune hummed by a familiar voice, and while he is awake... he keeps his eyes closed a little longer. If it's a dream, it's a nicer one than he's had in years.

Hythlodaeus brushes a lock of his hair back, though, and while it would be easy to pretend he's still sleeping (especially now that he's beginning to recall what happened before he went to bed)... well. If there's one person he is not inclined to ignore, it's Hythlodaeus. He cracks one golden eye open-

And silently takes Hyth in, caught somewhat off guard. No robes. Barely any clothes at all-- are those just socks?]

Hythlodaeus, what in creation are you wearing?

[hello good morning hope he expected that sweet moment not to last long]

( Hythlodaes's eyes crinkle into a smile at Emet-Selch's morning greeting, before letting the fingertip toying with the hair by his ear trace a path along the line of his jaw, up his chin, to press the pad against the bow of his lips. )

Do hush. You're in my house now, Emet-Selch, and I won't be ridiculed first thing in the morning.

( He teases, tapping Emet-Selch's lips just the once before moving to fluff his pillows and settle more comfortably. )

Besides, what I wear behind my own closed doors is hardly anyone else's business, is it?

( With his hair unbraided and his cardigan slipping down one shoulder he looks the picture of lazy comfort, his eyes slipping closed for a content little moment before opening to look at Emet again. )

I made coffee. You take it the same as ever, I hope?

( And he seems genuinely hopeful, his eyebrows ever so slightly raised his lips quirk into a playful smile. )

Nevertheless, this is... highly unusual fashion.

[He grumbles, as he watches his cardigan slip off one shoulder... all right. All right, there are benefits to the fashion, and they are alone here. If Hythlodaeus meant to wear something like this out, that would be another matter entirely.

But it's still a strange thing, to leave someone in one society and return to them in another, and to see the apparent results.

He exhales a sigh, pushing himself up to sit, arranging a pillow behind himself to lean on.]

I do take it the same as I always have, yes. You remember it?

Of course I remember it.

( He chides lightly, deciding to ignore the fact that Emet-Selch is choosin to focus on his clothing as opposed to the fact that they're ... here. Together. Waking up beside one another for the first time in what Htyhlodaeus has been led to believe is thousands of years.

That's just Emet-Selch's way, isn't it? )

Here, try—

( He reaches over to lift one of the mugs from the tray, the passes it over and presses it into the other man's hands. )

If nothing else it should make the morning more tolerable.

I expect it shall.

[Not that it's merely tolerable to begin with, all things considered. Hythlodaeus is here, after all, seemingly alive and well.

...which is still an entire conversation in its own right, one they still need to have in full. He holds the mug in both hands, inhaling its scent before he finally takes a slow sip.

Just like Hythlodaeus always made it, before. It's small details like this which make it all easier to believe, to dispel doubt as to whether this is truly happening. Only he would have known this.]

Tell me something. How long have you been here?

( Hythlodaeus watches Emet-Selch breathe in that scent, take the first, all with a pleased little smile on his lips, before reaching over to take his own mug and cradle it between his hands. )

A month or so. Two, at most, although I'm afraid I can't be more certain than that.

( He replies, lifting one shoulder in a shrug before taking a sip of his own drink. )

... You'll find there are more familiar faces here than you might expect, too. I dare say you'll have to do the rounds once you've had your fill of the prettiest one.

( He teases, obviously referencing himself, before tossing him a playful wink as he curls up more comfortably. )

Will I, now.

[He murmurs tiredly into his mug. If Hythlodaeus knows them, then surely they would be individuals from before, but:]

Azem's certainly is not one of them, else you would have had them here already.

True enough.

( Hythlodaeus confirms, and a pang of nostalgia lances through his gut at the thought of all three of them snug and safe, together, in the warmth of his bed. The moment quickly fades as he realises there's yet more pressing information he needs to pass on: )

Speaking of Azem. You might find that there are ... ah. ( Hythlodaeus doesn't want to keep Emet-Selch in the dark and maintain the idea that they're Azem's familiars, so he considers his words carefully for a moment before pressing on. ) A number of people here bearing the same hue as our dear friend's soul — the same hue as the soul that killed you, if I'm able to put all this together correctly.

( His expression takes on a far-away quality as he looks towards the window, his gaze fixed somewhere on a sliver of sky. )

Each one of them is a shard of their own world's Azem — who may differ still from the Azem we remember. ( But that's not entirely accurate, is it. ) ... That I remember.

( Which has certain implications for the two men in this bed, doesn't it? )

...not merely more of Azem's shards, but shards of different Azems entirely-? Are you quite certain? There are bound to be a certain number of them from various shards of the Source, after all.

[And that's much easier than thinking of the idea of-- multiple of his own self, somehow, who knew these other Azems.

Other Hythlodaeuses, by the same token, which he suspects may explain why he turns his gaze from Emet-Selch.]

Tell me of the Azem you recall, Hythlodaeus.

[Just to be certain. It can't possibly be a different one.]

( Hythlodaeus doesn't want to.

Of course, it isn't that he's especially invested in witholding information from Emet-Selch, but rather the fact that he doesn't want to face the possibility that Emet-Selch might not be— his. That the man in his bed might have another Hythlodaus, he might belong to another world, and a deep, wavering breath escapes him as he closes his eyes for a moment.

Tch. He never could deny him anything, though, could he? Not when it comes to the things that truly matter. )

A man. Handsome, of course, with shaggy brown hair and eyes of the most piercing blue — as bright as any meteor.

( Hythlodaeus's eyes flutter open as he finally looks back at Emet-Selch, his expression unreadable. )

What of yours?

[He dislikes the thought, as well, much as he expects that no matter what-- they would know each other. They know their souls by sight, don't they? How could it possibly be too different, between any existing pair that might exist?

But:]

He is the same.

[That answer comes with a slight quirk of one corner of his mouth; see, nothing to worry about after all. They are stable, whatever ridiculousness there might be with these supposed shards.]

He— is?

( There's a moment of pause as Hythlodaeus forces himself to pull himself together; he doesn't let his lip wobble for all a little pink immediately rises into his cheeks. A single breath, then a smile of easy contentment as he lifts his mug to his lips again: )

He is.

( He's the same. Emet-Selch is his, they remember the same friend, and Hythlodaeus feels the knot of panic sitting low in his gut finally begin to unwind. He sags noticably, letting his head drop back against the headboard for a moment as he exhales a shaky sigh. )

Well, then! That settles the first of what I assume will be the myriad of difficult questions ahead.

...for it to be such a concern, I presume the same has not held true with others.

[Why else would Hythlodaeus seem so thoroughly relieved? It prompts a little concern, really, to see how clearly troubled he was that there might be any other answer.]

( Hythlodaeus nods as he drags a hand through his hair. )

You presume correctly, my friend. While it has effected others much more than it has me, I—

( His hand moves to curl at his chin, his expression becoming thoughtful. )

I am not the first Hythlodaeus to appear here, nor are you the first Emet-Selch. There was a pair before us — and it seems they were well-loved by all I've met here. I think my arrival after their leaving was ... well.

( A wry smile touches the corners of his lips. )

Perhaps not a disappointment, but certainly the cause of a lot of heartache.

Edited 2022-09-11 11:00 (UTC)

...well, they shall simply have to learn to manage their expectations. I certainly have no intention of allowing some previous self of mine to have made all my decisions for me.

[If this previous Emet-Selch was indeed him, then it ought to work out regardless, shouldn't it... but if what Hyth says about different selves is true, then there's a chance two of him might not have the same inclinations. Should that be the case--

Well, it's not his responsibility to deal with people who knew another self. He sinks back into the pillows with a sigh, taking another sip of coffee.]

Simple as that, hm?

( Hythlodaeus just chuckles, shaking his head at the other man before setting his own drink to the side. He turns just enough so that he's semi-propped up on his elbow, facing Emet-Selch as he settles down into the pillows, and spends a long moment just soaking in the moment before speaking up again. )

I know I don't really have to say it, but you're welcome to stay here as long as you like.

( He smiles, reaching a hand out to lay his palm against the crook of the other man's arm. It's ... strange, now that the effects of those mischievous flowers have worn off: centuries of history separated by centuries of statis have left Hythlodaeus unsure of what Emet-Selch might want—

What he might feel. For him, specifically. How many hundreds of years has he had to mourn and move past a man he once knew? )

... I'd like you to, even. But, if you're concerned about the proximity to my incessant chattering, I'd be happy to help you register for some housing of your own when you're ready to do so?

...you ought to have space of your own, regardless of aught else.

[The place isn't exactly built for two, and considering everything--

Hythlodaeus most likely doesn't know what happened, while he remained within Zodiark. What Emet-Selch has done with his time after the Sundering, how shards of the Source were rejoined, how he influenced events upon shards and Source alike. There is much he has done that he's certain Hythlodaeus would not have accepted, if he knew... especially considering it was done partially on his behalf. On behalf of all of them.

He's missed him, for so long. But he knows better than to think they can simply-- pick up where they left off, with so much unsaid in between.]

I will acquire my own, yes, but we needn't leave in a hurry.

[He wants to stay here a while longer, too.]

As you like.

( It's true: Hythlodaeus doesn't know what's happened beyond what their Azem shard told them that day in Elpis, and even then, it was a very brief account of thousands of years of history. He can't quite shake that stirring urge that it was somehow more awful than they'd recounted — that the distance between them for all they're sharing a bed is somehow the result of that. )

Oh, good. Hurrying never was in my nature.

( He replies easily, letting his hand slip from Emet-Selch's arm to fold over his middle. )

And I can't let you leave without a decent breakfast, which I simply can't be bothered to make right now—

( A playful glimmer touches violet eyes. )

So it looks like we'll be here a while yet.

Go on and drink your own coffee, then, else we'll be abed the entire day. I know very well how you linger.

[He huffs that out with a roll of his eyes, but... it's not without a touch of fondness. A little nostalgia.

Maybe he doesn't mind lingering, right now.]

Well, someone has to make sure you don't fall back into your "all work, no play" routine so easily.

( He tosses back, but he reaches for his coffee all the same even as a smirk twitches onto those smiling lips. One thing it is easy to do is slip back into their playful bickering, although there's something about Emet-Selch's choice of words that stirs a hint of discomfort through him again.

Emet-Selch knows how he likes to linger, it's true. But what of Hythlodaeus? How well does he know the man beside him, and how much time has passed to change him? )

... Alright. The next difficult question, if I may.

( Not that it matters, he thinks idly, as his gaze drifts back to the single streak of starlight among that dark, cropped hair. Whether his changes are superficial or otherwise, he is still himself, and Hythlodaeus will spend however long it takes to learn of the man he is today. )

Emet-Selch. How long has it been?

...wasting no time with the truly difficult ones, I see.

[That's exhaled on a sigh, with a little shake of his head. He admitted to being dead easily enough, to nearly finding his rest, but putting this into words...

When he answers, it's quieter.]

It has been several thousand years since our star was sundered. Thirteen, perhaps fourteen all told.

[Thousands of years since he last truly saw Hythlodaeus-- his true self, not his shade. It still almost doesn't seem like a reality.]

( Fourteen thousand.

Fourteen thousand years.

Hythlodaeus had some inkling that it had been a long time — Azem's shard had revealed at least that much that day in Elpis — but fourteen thousand? It takes a moment longer before the horror of it all truly sinks in to Hythlodaeus's breast: Emet-Selch tried for so long, strained for so long to put their world back together, with only an empty shadow of their home at the bottom of an ocean to go to for comfort.

Only a shade of himself to hold him when he needed to let go. )

That day in Elpis, Azem's shard told us something of that future. It seems you're yet to have your memories restored to you in full, but— we knew, if only for a moment. You refused it outright and left in a rage; I had to run after you, even—

( But then they'd had their memories wiped and Hythlodaeus had made the decision to give himself to Zodiark, unknowing of the solitude to which it would confine his dearest friend. )

I am sorry, Hades. That I wasn't there with you.

( Hades. The man he knew before the Convocation, before the Sundering.

The man he's finally found again. )

-no. No, you needn't be. You made your choice, and I would not begrudge you it.

[Despite everything, despite being left without him and Azem both-- it was a choice he respected then and still does, now. He doesn't remember telling them in Elpis that he would hold in high regard those who chose to sacrifice themselves, but it remains the truth, regardless; he missed Hythlodaeus dearly, but he cannot hold trying to help save their people against him.]

But what do you mean, we knew-- we knew what was to come, and still it was our only recourse?

( Hythlodaeus takes another sip of his coffee before shaking his head. )

Not ... exactly. The incident in Ktisis Hyperborea — you recall how we lost some time there, yes? It was those memories that were erased.

( He explains, careful not to implicate Hermes as the architect of it all just yet. The fact that Hermes himself has no momeory of what he did — that he's confused and hurting — is enough for Hythlodaeus to treat this revelation with caution. )

We learned what was going to happen, learned what would come of us—

( Of you, he doesn't say. )

And then it was taken away. We— you acted as best you could on the information you had at the time, not knowing that we'd seen the truth of it already.

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The morning after the TDM!

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