for whatsina_name
Apr. 9th, 2021 03:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
travelerscurseIt's so strange, being back.
Ishgard hasn't changed in hundreds of years, strange to think it would have changed since he'd been here last, but then, everywhere else he'd been has changed just in the time he's been there. So it's strange to be walking streets he knows from his childhood but with eyes that are so different.
Beside him, Emmanelain chatters on about the different facets of city life. He had made sure Haurchefant knew to petition his former family with as much discretion as possible. They, of course, had simply said their son had died and they were certain some fugitive from Uldah couldn't be him anyway. He hadn't expected any differently. He feels like that person is dead and he breathes on as someone wholly different anyway, but it's strange, to be being shown around the place he grew up in by a member of one of the High Houses, someone his parents would have killed for him to be friends with just a few short years earlier, as though he were a stranger to this place.
He has always been a stranger to this place.
Dressed in Gridanian fashion and tanned lightly by the sun, he doesn't expect there's anyone here who would recognize him. He'd been barely more than a ghost when he left, hardly a warrior of anything. But as they pass through the Jeweled Croizer and Emmanelain gets caught up talking to some girl he's been trying to woo, there's a sudden, strange sensation at the back of his head, something like and unlike the Echo, and he turns, eyes scanning the busy street for... something. Someone.
(For some reason, unbidden, he remembers the night of the Calamity, giant pieces of some other part of Eorzea raining from the sky..
Ishgard hasn't changed in hundreds of years, strange to think it would have changed since he'd been here last, but then, everywhere else he'd been has changed just in the time he's been there. So it's strange to be walking streets he knows from his childhood but with eyes that are so different.
Beside him, Emmanelain chatters on about the different facets of city life. He had made sure Haurchefant knew to petition his former family with as much discretion as possible. They, of course, had simply said their son had died and they were certain some fugitive from Uldah couldn't be him anyway. He hadn't expected any differently. He feels like that person is dead and he breathes on as someone wholly different anyway, but it's strange, to be being shown around the place he grew up in by a member of one of the High Houses, someone his parents would have killed for him to be friends with just a few short years earlier, as though he were a stranger to this place.
He has always been a stranger to this place.
Dressed in Gridanian fashion and tanned lightly by the sun, he doesn't expect there's anyone here who would recognize him. He'd been barely more than a ghost when he left, hardly a warrior of anything. But as they pass through the Jeweled Croizer and Emmanelain gets caught up talking to some girl he's been trying to woo, there's a sudden, strange sensation at the back of his head, something like and unlike the Echo, and he turns, eyes scanning the busy street for... something. Someone.
(For some reason, unbidden, he remembers the night of the Calamity, giant pieces of some other part of Eorzea raining from the sky..
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Date: 2022-01-06 08:23 pm (UTC)And he is absolutely not jealous at all by how nice said clothes look.
He might have just moved past the figure if he wasn't so shocked still, but the staring does get his attention and he pauses, looking towards the construct. "Are you alright?" he asks, and it is likely a very strange moment for Gustavain because the smile pointed his way is soft and warm, one of the ones that he can only pull from Phillip in particularly intimate moments. His whole being just seems more open here, his features no different yet somehow speaking to his youth, a life that has not yet seen true suffering.
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Date: 2022-01-06 10:29 pm (UTC)(He is not thinking about how much he could shock this young man, how he could turn the tables after The Bunny Incident, how if he wanted to he could be the best lover he'd ever run across without him ever knowing why)
He is doing absolutely none of those things. Mostly he is not doing them by sheer force of will of not doing them. He is mostly left with not enough brain power to be clever on top of the sheer force of all of things he's not doing or having happen to him.
"I'm fine, don't worry," he says with a soft smile in return. And maybe that would be it, and he would just leave, except sometimes part of what his specific version of the Echo seems to do for him is light upon something to say that slips from his mouth before it hits his brain. He can stop it, if he's paying attention, but there's entirely too much going on here for him to curb the words before he's hearing himself say them, "You're so pretty."
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Date: 2022-01-06 11:05 pm (UTC)It always seems rude to him, to ask who a construct belongs to, especially the ones who were more self-aware. He's not quite sure where the line is, when a creation is considered sentient or to have free will or what have you, but he knows if he were one he would absolutely resent the question. But hopefully it'll get answered sooner or later.
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Date: 2022-01-07 03:03 pm (UTC)Gustavain is often in trouble and he's often in a version of this specific trouble, but this is probably the most in trouble he has been since he walked into the Intercessory for the first time. It keeps him from thinking too hard about paradoxes and the fact that Phillip doesn't know his name, didn't know who he was and why that might be, if this is actually more intimately linked with his timeline than he thought.
"Gustavain," he can't stop the charming smile he gives back, some things instinctive and on autopilot, his attraction (really any of his emotions) not something he's given to hiding, even if he doesn't talk about them much, "And thank you."
There's still that tug from either what he knows of Phillip or the Echo or both, something else instinctive that he's letting tug him along, smooth out this conversation while his brain is in freefall,
"It seems like some of the creations here have been a bit unruly. Would you like me to accompany you somewhere?" It's fitting enough of someone's construct, to want to help, he figures, and he's been playing the part out here in public for long enough to make it easy.
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Date: 2022-01-07 04:22 pm (UTC)"Hmm..." Thanatos is capable of taking care of himself, and the fact that his scythe is not visible means absolutely nothing (as Gustavain should well know by now). But even though he cannot see the aether that ties Gustavain to Azem, there's that little ring of connection there all the same, and it has him curious. "If you have other duties to attend to, I wouldn't want to take your time. But I wouldn't mind the company if nothing else."
It'll make this a little more pleasant, at least, as he looks around for a sign of the missing former-Azem. "Have you seen a woman in a white robes around, by any chance? Apparently there was some trouble and they asked if I could make sure she was alright."
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Date: 2022-01-07 05:53 pm (UTC)It's also just an excuse anyway, for both of them.
"Nothing pressing," he says, which is a lie, but despite what Phillip believes, Gustavain does understand how to take something for himself when it's presented. "Venat? Yes, but she said something about wishing to rest for a time," he does not want to run back into Venat, actually. More importantly, he imagines she also probably needs a moment to figure out her feelings on all of this, the next steps she will take.
(She has the harder task, he thinks, even without knowing the full extent of how true that is. He does not have to pretend that nothing has happened, will be able to talk about and explain what he has seen. She will need to play her information much closer to her chest for much longer.)
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Date: 2022-01-07 07:21 pm (UTC)Which leaves him in an odd spot; he's not terribly inclined to just leave, wants to check up on the others once things have settled a bit, but likewise things have likely not settled in the five minutes he's been gone and his brother likely isn't in a place where he'll be more happy with being fussed over. (Not that he ever is, but Thanatos at least recognizes that he's working and now is not the time.) So after a moment of consideration he gives a little laugh and a shrug.
"Well, if you're sure she's alright, then I suppose Idon't have anywhere to be. Perhaps instead of you keeping me company, it could be the other way around?"
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Date: 2022-01-07 07:52 pm (UTC)He takes a moment to consider-- it's quick, in reality, probably noticeable but not uncomfortable, just a normal man, weighing his words a moment. Inside, though, his mind is still moving fast and frantic. He's going to have to use the Azem excuse, sooner or later, even though Thanatos hasn't asked directly and he has no idea what that's going to produce. Are they already lovers? He has no idea how far along on any timelines they actually are, here, how long before the Final Days from this point, how old anyone is or how much that even matters. His thoughts spin, he's not thinking clearly and he knows he isn't. He isn't sure it matters.
"My business here actually just concluded," he finally says, and that should be the end of it, but he just... can't make himself turn and walk away. "But it's lovely here. It's my first visit and I've been shown around already but not really had a chance to enjoy any of it. Perhaps we could simply walk together a while, if neither of us have anywhere to be," he smiles, and it's a smile Phillip would recognize, soft and sweet, a little wry with humor as he huffs a laugh, "I couldn't get anyone else to leave their work to do more than give me a perfunctory tour."
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Date: 2022-01-07 08:11 pm (UTC)"That sounds nice," he says, "I've only been here a few times so I certainly can't give a tour, but it is lovely to just look around." There's so much vibrancy here that just...isn't around in Amaurot. And the fact that he doesn't have to wear his mask or hood just makes him want to linger all the more. "Lead the way."
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Date: 2022-01-07 08:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-01-07 08:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-01-07 09:01 pm (UTC)"It is odd, isn't it?" he continues, as they go, destination decided on and detour committed to, he feels more free to just speak and not think so much, "While I have other personal favorites, I think this is the most objectively beautiful place I have ever been in my life. But... no one seems to notice." Maybe Venat. He's not thinking about why that might be, not right now.
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Date: 2022-01-07 09:34 pm (UTC)He's not entirely satisfied with that answer, and it's probably clear, but even he isn't really in the habit of diving into his more philosophical opinions and frustrations with their society the way it is. He's only ever gotten pushback for it. But-- "It does seem... almost silly, I guess. The whole point of all these is to make our star better, more beautiful. But they're all so focused on the numbers and performance and each creation being perfect. And I agree we shouldn't be careless about what we make, but..." he pauses, giving a little shrug. "I don't know that perfect is what we should be aiming for. I like things that are a bit different." But that is, apparently, just him.
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Date: 2022-01-07 11:17 pm (UTC)Which is precisely why he manages a somewhat graceful cartwheel (he's limber enough for it, but it's been a while since he was doing it with no battle applications) into one of the fields of flowers, where he does, indeed, end up on his back, looking up at the sky. There's a flurry of petals around him when he does it, but no one around seems to notice, or care. It doesn't seem like the flowers are particularly important here. (Which in his opinion is all the more reason to enjoy them.)
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Date: 2022-01-08 02:42 am (UTC)He goes quiet for a moment to think on his words, laughing a little when Gus lands the cartwheel and winds up exactly where he said he would. Thanatos doesn't try to do anything particularly athletic (seriously, he hates the robes for that) and instead just sort of flops down next to him, tucking an arm under his head.
"Just-- what even isperfect?" he says after a moment, looking at the petals as they slowly float back down, "I suppose here they may have some sort of standard here for their fauna, but what would make the perfect play? The perfect dance? The perfect song?"
He reaches up, catching one of the petals in his hand, gently feeling over the smoothness of it. "And even if they do have those standards, can you imagine handing someone a pretty flower and them not wanting it, because it wasn't perfect?" He lets the petal go, his eyes cast back up to the sky. "I've usually found that what's most beautiful is something that isn't the same as all the rest-- a flower of a brighter hue, a mutation in an bird's plumage, art that makes you feel something you've never felt before..."
None of that is antithetical to their way of life, not really. But it's certainly not really what they look for. Creativity, yes, but with bounds and censure and made to be replicable.
He seems to realize he's gone off a bit and looks over at Gustavain, giving him a bashful smile. "Sorry. You didn't sign up for my musings." And given that his are based on feelings and not formal debate, most people don't particularly like dealing with them.
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Date: 2022-01-08 09:52 pm (UTC)"I feel like you and Hermes would get along," he sobers a moment later, looks up to the sky with a worried expression because... well, how much of this world is actually connected to his? He still hasn't been able to discern if this is all causally linked now after all or not. And even just with a few short days to meet and know him, he realizes only after he says that that he genuinely thinks of Hermes as he is now, even after everything he saw in Hyperboriea. Even now, even knowing, it's hard to summon up any ill-will. He just wished it were possible to reach across the space between people even more easily than he's always seemed to.
He turns his thoughts from that, puts it aside the same way he does a lot of things, to be looked at later, and holds his hand up to the sun, letting the light fall through his fingers while he concentrates on the now.
"It's hard to fault someone for striving for an ideal," he points out, "or for wanting to create something worthy of accolades and helpful to ones fellow man, both. If the perfection your peers are striving for is absolute perfection, then I think you're right-- the interest in perfection there is more the pursuit of the perfection than the finished object and the finished object is... a bit boring, I'd say. But there's also perfection in the eyes of the creator. Perhaps a flaw is deliberately introduced for a reason. Then the object would still be "perfect" in that it adhered to the ideals of it's creator precisely how it's creator intended."
He looks over at Thanatos, partially through the flowers, smiles,
"But even that wouldn't account for art, music. There's beauty in the technical execution of things, but even a piece that was played the same way every time would incite different emotions in the listener. As soon as there's any subjectivity in interpretation, 'perfection' seems like a ridiculous concept."
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Date: 2022-01-08 10:13 pm (UTC)He looks over through the flowers at the familiar, his braid draped over his shoulder to avoid him laying on it. "I don't know how much of it is which here, honestly," he says, "I don't submit concepts very often, at least not ones meant for here. I'm sure it's plenty complicated." And the type of bureaucratic complicated that he hates, almost certainly.
Which is why the conversation turning more to art makes him smile. "That's why I like it so much," he admits, "There's so much variation in even a single work, and different parts hit differently for different people. And that's before you add in performance interpretations... I've sort of been trying to see how far that can go."
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Date: 2022-01-09 05:54 am (UTC)Well, it turns out that, in any body, he can't resist that smile, or wanting to do things to see more of it.
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Date: 2022-01-09 03:03 pm (UTC)He thinks on it for a moment, before he begins to sing, quietly enough that it won't drift too far from their spot but still strong and steady. Gustavain's heard him sing before, many times back in Ishgard, but this time it's different. The likely more immediately noticeable difference is just in his voice- not in the quality of it or tone, that's always been lovely, but as a performer himself Gustavain will be able to tell that there's a richness to it, a fullness and warmth that can only be gained through practice, consistent and focused, over a lifetime. That wouldn't be surprising, except that Phillip doesn't sound like that. Which means before Ishgard, he hadn't sung in a long, long time.
The second takes a little longer to show; the melody starts off smooth and elegant, the sort of song that isn't really meant to do more than fill space, likely the exact sort of thing he would have sung in Gustavain's childhood home. But then partway through, the mood shifts. It's subtle at first, and the elezen may feel the sense of melancholy before he hears it. Thanatos is very careful to not change anything else about his performance except that, and after several moments of this it's very clear: he's manipulating dynamis.
It's a bit clumsy, nowhere near the precision that is wrecking things so thoroughly back home, but that's hardly surprising given that Hermes seems to be the only one who knows it exists and Thanatos is almost certainly not aware that it's an actual force to be wielded. The mood shifts again, before the melancholy becomes too much, the song rounding over into something more soothing, a peaceful and quiet sort of hopefulness to it, to ease any distress that might have been caused as he finishes it up.
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Date: 2022-01-09 04:36 pm (UTC)We've never sung together.
It's maybe not a thought he would normally have had without the shifting sadness of the tune, but once he thinks it, it winds it's way deep and he finds himself listening with a heart that feels heavy and constricted in a way he's not used to. He's not so attuned to Dynamis that he can tell anything about what Thanatos is doing, specifically, simply that he's doing something, and he doesn't even realize that until the pressure eases.
It strikes a chord in him, unsurprisingly, and he's moving without thinking at the end, reaching out and cupping the other young man's face in his hand, his thumb soothing against his cheek, just under one eye,
"All the songs in the world to sing, and you choose a sad one." It's entirely too intimate and he knows that, but dimly, somewhere far away. This is something Phillip would never have shown him and his heart breaks even more knowing that. Who taught him to conceal that? What happened to him that he's never even tried to sing for him...
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Date: 2022-01-09 05:12 pm (UTC)As one who lives and breathes art, Thanatos is well versed in the progression of stories, both the highs and the lows. The contrasts are what build tension and give release, in a way that constant misery or a tale of sheer bliss simply cannot. It's just a pity he can't quite apply that to his life, considering what does happen.
After a long moment, letting them both enjoy the simple light that is a lovely flower in the midst of sadness, he reaches up and tucks it into Gustavain's hair, just behind his ear. "Even prettier, now," he says, with the fond tease of Phillip saying more than just words.
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Date: 2022-01-09 08:21 pm (UTC)It's both so sweet and so familiar and his better judgement is screaming at him that this is not Phillip and he is taking liberties here, not in the sense of it being someone else, but because it also is Phillip. He's seeing something private, something he hasn't been shown, he needs to stop.
But then Thanatos tucks the flower behind his ear right where he usually wears it when he's not flinging himself through time and space and something inside him just cracks in two. There's not really a conscious decision that he's going to lean forward and kiss him, it feels more like he falls forward, but if Thanatos doesn't move, the result is the same.
(He is, thankfully, too dazed to think about whether or not he kisses like Azem, whether or not Thanatos would even know if he did.)
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Date: 2022-01-09 08:40 pm (UTC)He leans into the kiss, soft and sweet, and there is something familiar about the way the elezen touches him while still being new. His hands begin a slow survey of his hips and sides, mapping out the shape of him but not reaching for more than this.
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Date: 2022-01-09 09:24 pm (UTC)The kiss, the way he moves, is sensual and knowing, not at all something innocent for all that it's still a lighter kiss, but the way he touches Thanatos is as though he's something delicate and precious, like if he presses too hard with his hand, he'll break apart like a mirage.
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Date: 2022-01-09 09:39 pm (UTC)He tilts his head so he feel better savor the feel of the hand on his neck, already feeling his mind spiraling with how very utterly Gustavain has caught him in just a few moments, with just a kiss and a touch, in the way only a lover who knows him can do it. It probably just makes it all the more difficult to think about stopping as the warrior of light feels the young man underneath him already begin to unravel.
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