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.]
[he has no choice, really, but that at least does not inspire any bitterness inside of him. And as fleeting it is, tranquillity seems to overtake him once more, his eyes settling closed]
I cannot change what has happened. And though I am losing pieces of myself, I still feel as if I was... satisfied, all the same.
[as long as he has that much, it will be enough for now.]
Ah- you asked before, if there is aught else I would have you know. If you are to take possession of my crystal in the event of my death, then there is something you should know of it.
[there's a second of hesitation, because he is no longer sure what chiron might think of this-- but if he ever takes possession of the crystal, he'll learn regardless.
emet-selch places it in one of chiron's hands, and as he takes hold of it... a voice echoes in his head.]
Chiron's eyes open, slits of quiet assessment as he pauses with the voice lingering in his mind long after it goes silent. His memories of himself are splintered at this point, and he knows it, but he has not spent the last few days reciting and remembering what he must of Emet's past for no reason.
It doesn't take much effort for him to jump to conclusions]
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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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[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...
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[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]
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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.]
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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.]
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[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.]
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[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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[he has no choice, really, but that at least does not inspire any bitterness inside of him. And as fleeting it is, tranquillity seems to overtake him once more, his eyes settling closed]
I cannot change what has happened. And though I am losing pieces of myself, I still feel as if I was... satisfied, all the same.
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[as long as he has that much, it will be enough for now.]
Ah- you asked before, if there is aught else I would have you know. If you are to take possession of my crystal in the event of my death, then there is something you should know of it.
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Yes, of course. What is it?
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[there's a second of hesitation, because he is no longer sure what chiron might think of this-- but if he ever takes possession of the crystal, he'll learn regardless.
emet-selch places it in one of chiron's hands, and as he takes hold of it... a voice echoes in his head.]
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Chiron's eyes open, slits of quiet assessment as he pauses with the voice lingering in his mind long after it goes silent. His memories of himself are splintered at this point, and he knows it, but he has not spent the last few days reciting and remembering what he must of Emet's past for no reason.
It doesn't take much effort for him to jump to conclusions]
Whose voice is this?
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[though clearly, it is not the voice he has in this body. he says nothing further, though, allowing chiron to draw any conclusions first.]
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What was it that you planned to build, Emet-Selch?
[An empire spanning centuries is what he'd been told, and he believes him, but not once had context been properly explained.
Chiron knew that and still never asked.
He's asking now]
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The time for waiting patiently for Emet to tell him truths is at an end today. Chiron's second question is direct as the first]
What is the price for renewing your god and people?
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