... So long as I hear your footsteps, I will be able to follow.
[so yes, a guide will be necessary if they're to make any swift progress. Chiron will also stand, slowly, making sure his footing is sound before politely waiting for Emet to lead the way]
but he will comment idly on the surroundings as they go, so chiron can easily follow his voice as well, until they make it safely to emet's room to settle in.]
[The random assortment of comments are appreciated; Chiron had not wanted to ask Emet to talk if it did not suit the other's mood, but it does mean he can easily follow along.
Though still, he's rather glad to settle down in a room by the end of it. The forest, river, and anything nature-oriented he can handle blind, but walking through the towns is a bit more frustrating when he knows he's liable to run into someone.]
You do recall that we spoke of protecting the lives of those with particular duties, yes?
[he settles in, there, with a slight rustling of leaves. he hates this.]
I know another. But in this case, I must ask you to swear upon your stars once more that you will reveal their identity to no one, under any circumstances.
Ah, trust me. I have a great many questions as to your role -- what is it that you have been charged to do?
[Though, he will at least answer Emet before expecting him to go into detail:]
No, Blanca has not given me a name. At first he was rather reluctant to share details, but given that I moved to keep him alive, I think he will be more permissible with my questions from here on out.
[His eyes might be closed, but there is concern in his voice. Being called a "King" no matter the circumstances tends to have a very high stakes, high reward play-style.]
I'm afraid I do not know. To be called a "King" tends to have a wide range of influences.
I, for one, find it quite convenient that after we discussed it being useful to know what memories may make people act, the very next week all were required to share.
[chiron cannot see his smirk, but boy, it is there.]
That one was admittedly more selfish a choice... but yes. And before you ask, I do not choose the punishment; it is simply appropriate to the rule I choose to make.
[there's that same thoughtful tapping on something.]
I would appreciate if you did not allude to the nature of my duty, however. If others realize one of us influences the rules at all, they will begin to try to find who would have made the ones put in place. While that is the only one I think may point to myself in particular, it is still safer not to have the risk.
[Chiron doesn't laugh easily outside of the occasional amused chuckles, but this time? A hand is pressed against his mouth to keep it contained.
Y'know what? Well played. He still can't be mad.]
So for every rule you put in place, an equal punishment must be paid. Interesting. And you can only create one rule per week?
[Which means technically him being blind is partially Emet's fault? Not that Chiron would ever dare to voice such a matter, and doesn't particularly care about what has happened to him, anyway. It's simply balance being maintained]
And of course. We will keep all matters of your duty, vague or otherwise, between ourselves.
[...]
I do not suppose you have taken to drums, have you?
One per week. This week, it is the one requiring assistance; I thought it may be useful in the generation of nova, but I have not yet seen how the punishment for breaking it manifests.
And no, I have not. Merely idleness of the fingers; I had not thought it would be distracting.
[he keeps his hands still, there, the mask still held loosely in his grasp.]
[there's a pause, there, and as chiron is blind...
after a few moments of silent consideration, emet-selch reaches out to guide his hand to the mask, to allow him to feel the shape of it, and does not push that hand away as he lifts it to his face to affix it there.]
All who lived in Amaurot dressed in the same manner, none owning anything to flaunt individuality or set them apart... save for the Convocation, who wore masks of red with designs unique to their own seat, as opposed to the plain white masks of others residing there.
This one, of course, belongs to the seat of Emet-Selch.
[There is a small, musing sound of surprise when his hand is guided to the mask, but it is a matter quickly settled when Chiron realizes what Emet wants him to do.
So he feels the shape of it with his fingertips as instructed, eyes narrowed without sight to guide them. So distracted by his findings that he only half-notes the mask lifting, then presumably pressed again someone's face...
A pause. Then he continues to draw his fingers around, as if helping to keep it in place]
... Do you miss it? Wearing this mask as proof of your station?
[He cannot see Emet's face, and so he wonders if the question is perhaps permissible]
[hm. he isn't expecting the continued contact, but... the mask is a barrier between them, and he finds it permissible. any other time this may be too intimate, but something about the dual closeness yet separation is more appealing.
it's the fuckin gemini in him i swear to god
but he's quiet for another moment, before he answers.]
At times. There is a familiarity in it that cannot be found anywhere else, and yet there is something lacking in it now for the absence of any others.
[but it is home, in a way.]
Would that I had the robes as well-- I do not know what possessed me to have worn this the entirety of our time here.
[a slight huff of breath; chiron has likely been able to tell from the faint sound of metal against metal on the string of decorations affixed to the outfit that he is, in fact, wearing his usual military-style coat.]
[Chiron will drop his fingers once he has finished his exploration, but it is a thorough one, the parts of him that are the curious sage driven forward by curiosity and the strange sense of freedom that comes with the moment.]
I admit, it is difficult for me to imagine you in robes.
[The corners of his mouth picking up at the faint ting of the metal decorations.]
There is a lack of vulnerability that comes with layers. [None may know you when there is so much to peel back. Poke around too much and you might find yourself staring down the barrel of a gun]
[thorough as it is, emet-selch does not pull away from it once started-- he will see it through, allowing the contact up until the point where chiron's hands drop once more.]
So there is- but in those days, there was no need for any more than the mask.
[it was enough of a barrier when he did need one, and the walls were not as necessary.
he exhales a slow breath, though, before:]
...I meant that literally enough, however. I do not remember whose body it is that I now occupy.
[genuinely why the fuck does he wear this outfit.]
[he's listening, but after chiron finishes trying to tell him, there's a second of silence before a frustrated huff of breath.]
--the details escape me, even when reminded so. 'Tis all hazy-- I recall some few events from this body's life, and yet... all the pieces which might make any of it fall into place are missing.
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[he sighs, standing.]
Do you require a guide? I would speak with you more privately, in whichever of our rooms is unoccupied.
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[so yes, a guide will be necessary if they're to make any swift progress. Chiron will also stand, slowly, making sure his footing is sound before politely waiting for Emet to lead the way]
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[noo public touching.
but he will comment idly on the surroundings as they go, so chiron can easily follow his voice as well, until they make it safely to emet's room to settle in.]
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Though still, he's rather glad to settle down in a room by the end of it. The forest, river, and anything nature-oriented he can handle blind, but walking through the towns is a bit more frustrating when he knows he's liable to run into someone.]
What is it that you wished to speak about?
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[he settles in, there, with a slight rustling of leaves. he hates this.]
I know another. But in this case, I must ask you to swear upon your stars once more that you will reveal their identity to no one, under any circumstances.
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[Perhaps not a formal swearing, but Chiron's voice is still grave with understanding.]
Who is it?
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Myself.
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Instead he just... chuckles, the tension seeping out of his shoulders]
Well, it keeps the list of people I must watch over the same as always.
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[and, with amusement in his tone:]
Have you no questions for me? You really must begin asking, you know, or there are things I may not think to volunteer.
[chiron!!]
I've one for you first, at any rate. Did Blanca mention whether his duty had a name?
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[Though, he will at least answer Emet before expecting him to go into detail:]
No, Blanca has not given me a name. At first he was rather reluctant to share details, but given that I moved to keep him alive, I think he will be more permissible with my questions from here on out.
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[and with that same amusement evident in his voice:]
Given that, I do wonder if you might guess what it is that I have influence over.
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[His eyes might be closed, but there is concern in his voice. Being called a "King" no matter the circumstances tends to have a very high stakes, high reward play-style.]
I'm afraid I do not know. To be called a "King" tends to have a wide range of influences.
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[chiron cannot see his smirk, but boy, it is there.]
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... I see.
[FOR ONCE CHIRON IS ACTUALLY DYING INSIDE, TAKE HIM BACK TO THE THRONE]
You-- [He's trying so hard to word right now, and being blind but hearing the self-satisfaction in Emet's voice ...]
Were you also responsible for when we were not allowed to touch without consequence?
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[there's that same thoughtful tapping on something.]
I would appreciate if you did not allude to the nature of my duty, however. If others realize one of us influences the rules at all, they will begin to try to find who would have made the ones put in place. While that is the only one I think may point to myself in particular, it is still safer not to have the risk.
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Y'know what? Well played. He still can't be mad.]
So for every rule you put in place, an equal punishment must be paid. Interesting. And you can only create one rule per week?
[Which means technically him being blind is partially Emet's fault? Not that Chiron would ever dare to voice such a matter, and doesn't particularly care about what has happened to him, anyway. It's simply balance being maintained]
And of course. We will keep all matters of your duty, vague or otherwise, between ourselves.
[...]
I do not suppose you have taken to drums, have you?
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And no, I have not. Merely idleness of the fingers; I had not thought it would be distracting.
[he keeps his hands still, there, the mask still held loosely in his grasp.]
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[Oh sure, they have many helpful among them, but also many stubborn ones who will resist a request given to them.
But that aside (for now), Chiron's head gives a slight cant again]
It is not distracting. I was only trying to place the sound. Despite mentioning a drum, it is more like...
[...]
... You received something from your home?
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[there's a pause, there, and as chiron is blind...
after a few moments of silent consideration, emet-selch reaches out to guide his hand to the mask, to allow him to feel the shape of it, and does not push that hand away as he lifts it to his face to affix it there.]
All who lived in Amaurot dressed in the same manner, none owning anything to flaunt individuality or set them apart... save for the Convocation, who wore masks of red with designs unique to their own seat, as opposed to the plain white masks of others residing there.
This one, of course, belongs to the seat of Emet-Selch.
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So he feels the shape of it with his fingertips as instructed, eyes narrowed without sight to guide them. So distracted by his findings that he only half-notes the mask lifting, then presumably pressed again someone's face...
A pause. Then he continues to draw his fingers around, as if helping to keep it in place]
... Do you miss it? Wearing this mask as proof of your station?
[He cannot see Emet's face, and so he wonders if the question is perhaps permissible]
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it's the fuckin gemini in him i swear to god
but he's quiet for another moment, before he answers.]
At times. There is a familiarity in it that cannot be found anywhere else, and yet there is something lacking in it now for the absence of any others.
[but it is home, in a way.]
Would that I had the robes as well-- I do not know what possessed me to have worn this the entirety of our time here.
[a slight huff of breath; chiron has likely been able to tell from the faint sound of metal against metal on the string of decorations affixed to the outfit that he is, in fact, wearing his usual military-style coat.]
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I admit, it is difficult for me to imagine you in robes.
[The corners of his mouth picking up at the faint ting of the metal decorations.]
There is a lack of vulnerability that comes with layers. [None may know you when there is so much to peel back. Poke around too much and you might find yourself staring down the barrel of a gun]
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So there is- but in those days, there was no need for any more than the mask.
[it was enough of a barrier when he did need one, and the walls were not as necessary.
he exhales a slow breath, though, before:]
...I meant that literally enough, however. I do not remember whose body it is that I now occupy.
[genuinely why the fuck does he wear this outfit.]
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I never received the name of that particular vessel. [Because he never asked, and oh does he feel foolish for keeping his questions to himself now]
Only that it once became an emperor as you sought to build a nation to your liking, and it is one of your more preferred forms nowadays.
[He has no idea if any of this information is helping, and so his blank stare watches over Emet-Selch with some measure of concern]
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--the details escape me, even when reminded so. 'Tis all hazy-- I recall some few events from this body's life, and yet... all the pieces which might make any of it fall into place are missing.
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