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.
[only that, is it. it's a small relief that chiron is blinded, that he cannot see any shift in expression as emet-selch takes in that answer.]
I am sure there are those who would remember your life, regardless.
But I am not certain you said before-- just how long have you existed?
[he wants to confirm. if it's his entire nature that he's forgotten, if it's the very thing that first piqued emet-selch's curiosity and the reason they have understood each other...
Do you recall, at the least, why it is that you go by Archer?
[let him at least have that part of his longevity; the loss that is already there is enough, and he finds he hates it. terrible enough for his own memories to suffer, but in spending as much time with a fellow immortal as he has with chiron--
it's too familiar. it is too like watching his only other unsundered companion slowly lose himself. it is too much like the sinking feeling at noting the small ways in which memories of their world stopped being shared, and became emet-selch's alone.
so long as i remember my duty, that is enough, elidibus had said.
it wasn't. it isn't now. but they can only cling to what they have yet to lose.]
History remembered my even tempered nature and my students... and so I was recorded into the Throne.
[that is answered with swiftness, even if there is now a trace of fatigue added to his response. It bothers that he cannot see his companion, cannot guess how he should conduct himself when apparently something important is missing from him.
His shoulder rests against one of the walls]
And so I was summoned into a Holy Grail War, only to be killed by my student and lose. I will die again once all of this is concluded.
[and there, for perhaps the first time since Chiron has recalled this tale, he feels a trace of defeat in his chest.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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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.
no subject
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?
no subject
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?
no subject
[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.
no subject
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.]
no subject
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]
no subject
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.]
no subject
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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[asking with delicacy, but he needs to know how much of Emet's memory he's keeping safe at this point. And as if to further emphasize such:]
And if there any other such memories you'd want to keep with me, until our duties here are finished...
no subject
[quieter, more solemn. he still has that. he can still hold on to that.]
I recall other vessels of mine, my previous works, and the duty I have ever held to. Only this one's life is missing.
And you? Do you know what you have lost now-- are you still aware of what you will return to?
[he'll get around to saying more in a minute, maybe.]
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[there is a note of bemusement to his voice, though the answer is genuine.
And yet.]
I am only a centaur. My death is hardly anything of importance.
[why did he ever care to tell people he had died in the first place? It is not as if he can do much]
no subject
I am sure there are those who would remember your life, regardless.
But I am not certain you said before-- just how long have you existed?
[he wants to confirm. if it's his entire nature that he's forgotten, if it's the very thing that first piqued emet-selch's curiosity and the reason they have understood each other...
he truly does hate this realm.]
no subject
I am long lived... I cannot remember my age, it's been too long.
[his sightless gaze turns to one of his upturned hands]
My parents... I do not recall them. Centaurs are--
[they come from somewhere as all creatures do, and yet chiron feels a prick of sweat break against the back of his neck as nothing comes to mind]
I was considered special... I thought. The gods took me to their lessons, to prove that centaurs could be civilized.
[he was just a happy experiment. That is all.]
no subject
[he says it almost as more of a sigh.]
Do you recall, at the least, why it is that you go by Archer?
[let him at least have that part of his longevity; the loss that is already there is enough, and he finds he hates it. terrible enough for his own memories to suffer, but in spending as much time with a fellow immortal as he has with chiron--
it's too familiar. it is too like watching his only other unsundered companion slowly lose himself. it is too much like the sinking feeling at noting the small ways in which memories of their world stopped being shared, and became emet-selch's alone.
so long as i remember my duty, that is enough, elidibus had said.
it wasn't. it isn't now. but they can only cling to what they have yet to lose.]
no subject
[that is answered with swiftness, even if there is now a trace of fatigue added to his response. It bothers that he cannot see his companion, cannot guess how he should conduct himself when apparently something important is missing from him.
His shoulder rests against one of the walls]
And so I was summoned into a Holy Grail War, only to be killed by my student and lose. I will die again once all of this is concluded.
[and there, for perhaps the first time since Chiron has recalled this tale, he feels a trace of defeat in his chest.]
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[it's the most important question, for now. he still needs to gauge what he had promised he would.]
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