[Being trapped there for Hythlodaeus' crying is entirely what he should have foreseen, and truly he did. Yet he still feels his body go rigid as those arms grab him, hold onto him, then he feels the shake of him as he weeps. His mouth goes dry, his throat feels as though something is lodged within it, and his heart quivers painfully.
Breath hitched in his throat, eyes burning from the sting of tears welling within them, and like his chest, his jaw aches from the tightness of how it clenches. Silently do his tears slick his cheeks, yet with each that falls, he feels no better. It changes nothing.
It does not bring Hythlodaeus back.
It does not make this man any more Hythlodaeus than he was moments ago.
It does not resolve the anguish in his heart that has been renewed.
It does not save him from this despair, and maybe nothing truly will.
As Hythlodaeus regains his resolve, he's far from regaining his own. Which is why when the other man stands, wiping away his own tears, Hades turns his head away from him, his mouth pulled into a tight grieving frown as he hopes his hair will be enough to hide his silent weeping.
But he asked him a question, didn't he? Swallowing thickly—a feeling akin to forcing a lead ball through a passage far too small—he regains his voice, or what remains of it. Fortunately with his gaze averted and a hand brought to his face, he does not see that smile. For it would be too much for his heart to take at the moment.]
...I know not. The damage is severe, there is no avoiding it. There is...much I must do, much I must repair in the wake of it all. My ire—still it burns brightly, I do not know when it will cool, but...
[He doesn't want Hythlodaeus to leave. Even if it hurts to look upon him, seeing his features still had some measure of comfort. Something familiar he has been without for so long. Too long.
And maybe he's weaker than he realized. That he would find himself so dependent upon a shade like he is...]
[ For a man who has spent so long in control of himself, grounded and sure-footed, this is devastating. He knows what the real Hythlodaues would do. Yet doubt has set in. He’s almost aware of his own numbness. ]
[ The only thing that stops his desire for his dissipation in that moment is the more powerful want to comfort Hades.]
[The fretting, the inaction, it drives him mad. He’s aware, vaguely, of his own emotions knocking at the door in his mind, pulling his focus. He wrenches free.]
You’re looking too far ahead.
[ His voice is soft and careful, his expression schooled into one of a more familiar airy neutrality. Hades has no use for a broken shade.]
I mean only the next ten minutes. May I fix you a cup of coffee and a plate of biscuits?
[Devastating is quite the accurate word for what this is. What all of this is. Yet, it is far from the worst he has weather, but he supposes it's something of a more personal nature. Something far more intimate.
And as Hythlodaeus wants to comfort Hades, does Hades want for that comfort. Yet, he does not request it. Does not reach for it. He keeps himself distanced, closed off, alone.]
Ah, yes... That sounds quite lovely.
[He's able to get that out without too much of a quaver to his voice, nor a break. As he rubs at his eyes with a quick sweep of his hand, he keeps his face turned from Hythlodaeus, gesturing for him to go.]
[ He steps up behind him, pulling him close into his chest. He tucks his head underneath his own and prompts him to breathe deeply with his own measured breaths. ]
...We stay together or we go together. You’ve spent quite enough time alone.
[As if the sound itself wasn't enough to mark his surprise, the way his body stiffens like a board may. That state does not last long, however, as the familiar warmth and comfort of Hythlodaeus' body eases him from such rigidity. With shuddered breaths, he tries to keep his resolve, and for the most part succeeds.
Or he would, if not for Hythlodaeus' comment. How many lonely centuries has he spent longing for Hythlodaeus--for Azem, too? How alone he's been, how lost he was without them, how achingly quiet the world has proven to be without the two of them making his life the joy it once was.
Had he known. Had he not taken so much for granted. Had he appreciated them and Amaurot and all of it more...
But it's all gone now, and he's ensured that it stays that way. He has forsaken them, forsaken his home, forsaken his brothers. To carry such a burden for far too long, without those he held most dear... Without those he loved without equal. It has worn him down to the core of his immortal soul.
And so, to hear those words with Hythlodaeus' voice, to feel him, to indulge in his warmth--but knowing that he will never truly come back. Even in this world, where the dead live again, he is still denied those he lost. A foolish hope, a foolish belief, that he would ever be so lucky to see them again.
That all his suffering would not earn him the chance.]
[ He dashes the noise in his head telling him to act against his instincts— this culprit of so much these few months. It only made him sick and irritable.]
[This confusing doubt that stood at war with him, he knew that he must oust it were they to survive this. They could sort out the wreckage later. ]
[He turns him by the shoulders and tilts his chin up.]
... You aren’t. And it is just as well to admit this, for you will be in time. I will see to it.
[ He wipes away Hades’ tears, heedless of the new ones that may form to take their place. He casts an arm around his shoulders and leads him inside. ]
[ That cruel self-doubt is not dead, of course. How could it be? Yet for now, this was good enough. It was quiet enough to act. ]
[He does not argue, there would be no point in it. And, as much as he enjoys that arm around him, the comfort and warmth that it gives, he cannot help but feel guilty still. Maybe that's why the tears replace the ones swept away, maybe that's why he cannot look directly at Hythlodaeus, even though he wishes to behold his features. To look upon him and pretend...
But he doesn't, and honestly, his mind goes to Dirk. How, despite all of this mess, he still has Hythlodaeus here. Still has this company, even if it's not the real Hythlodaeus, yet Dirk has...no one.
So really, he feels double the guilt, and isn't that just marvelous?
Nevertheless, he walks with Hythlodaeus, lost to his thoughts but brought out of them just as quickly. Raising his head without a single thought of how his glossy eyes must look, how the red to his face must make him look more like a boy than a man as he stares owlishly at Hythlodaeus. Perhaps he even sounds like one as he answers, finally drawing his gaze away from his company, his voice quiet.]
...Bed, I think. I should be glad to lie down for a spell while you prepare the coffee.
[Not that he needs to sleep more, when he slept through the previous day, but he still feels so tired.]
[ He brings him to the bedroom door as he wishes and pulls back the comforter for him. ]
It shouldn’t be too long.
[ He presses a kiss to the crown of his head as he goes off to prepare their snack. Alone for this moment, he feels a pit open up inside of him. ]
[ Even if Hades doesn’t trust him to fix this, he must. And with clear lines drawn in his duty, he cannot fail. ]
[ He meditates briefly as the water boils and again as it steeps. He reigns his focus in as he brings the tray into the bedroom with that warm, practiced smile upon his face, not trusting it to do as it would naturally. He pours each of them a cup of coffee and divides the delicate anise-scented wafer cookies between them, quiet as he seemed to still be lost in thought. ]
[Again, guilt presses upon him like a boulder as Hythlodaeus presses that kiss to his head. Some part of him enjoys the affection, another part of him knows he shouldn't. With a simple nod as his solemn reply, he settles himself into bed. He plans not for sleep, and he doesn't think he could even if he wanted to, but he does close his eyes.
His thoughts are scattered and disjointed, and as he starts to focus on one, another takes its place. How long has it been since he could not settle his mind? Ordinarily he can rein it in, even when his emotions were on the fritz, and yet here and now he feels helpless to their tumultuous tumbling and disorderliness.
While he isn't asleep, he does feel as though he's drifting. As though he is not here, yet he clearly is, but it's the smell of the coffee that brings him back—and the sound of the foot steps. Gold peers out from his cracked eyelids as he watches Hythlodaeus approach. Beholding him again, looking at him truly differently than he had all these moons.
Really, everything about him truly spoke of Hythlodaeus. How he walked, how he talked, everything was exactly as he remembered—but of course that's the case, when he is a being constructed from memory. Just as the sundered Convocation members were pale imitations to the ones they had lost. Replications and copies, all flawed, none truly filling the hole their predecessors left behind.
And like them, this Hythlodaeus was no better. Yet, in actuality, he was better in some ways. After all, he was made purely from Hades' memory of Hythlodaeus, and well did he know Hythlodaeus. He'd argue almost better than Hythlodaeus himself, really. Yet, despite that, he lacked a soul. He was no better than Ifrita, than the Phoenix, than any other concept.
Aether woven into form, but lacking a soul, lacking a natural place in the world, a natural place in the grand cycle of life...
He sits up as Hythlodaeus gets closer, bringing a hand to his head as he holds it. For good reason, too, all of this has left him with a bit of a headache. Nothing the coffee couldn't help, he figures. And, when Hythlodaeus offers it, he will take it.]
...Thank you.
[Is that really all he has to say? Well, at the moment, yes. He needs his coffee before he can talk any further, or else he threatens to split his mind in two with how much worse this headache will become.]
[ He hates how Hades looks at him now, and he cannot bear to look him in the face like this. Too soon, too painful, too... too much. ]
...You’re welcome.
[ he stares hard into his coffee cup. They’re both large cups of lightly sweet and creamed coffees. A treat, really. Hythlodaues picks up a pizelle and takes a bite, regretting it immediately with the dryness of his mouth and the sourness in his stomach. When did that happen...? All the same he washes it down so that he doesn’t choke. ]
[ He could almost hear Hades' thoughts as he avoids it all. Scrutinizing him against the real one. Thinking about how he's fake. Thinly veiled resentment. He almost wishes he would have been allowed to leave.]
[Even if he's fake, he doesn't otherwise feel fake. He is too good of a Creation. He was made with the intent to see just as keenly as the real Hythlodaeus. If there were some fault, he would be aware of that much as well. Wouldn't he?]
[He would, he resolves quickly.]
[And he would tell Hades as much if he didn't knock this shit off quickly enough.]
[It'd be foolish to ask what this tension was, when he knows the answer so keenly, yet still he feels the urge to question the shift. When Hythlodaeus was so comforting moments ago, now it feels as though his presence brought with him a blizzard.
Well, that's a little unfair, but still he can feel the unease, and while Hythlodaeus has never proven himself particularly empathic, he knows that he would likely figure out his thoughts. His emotions.
And so, he chooses for the moment to indulge in the coffee and the cookies. Trying to ease the conflict inside himself, though he knows it's a fruitless endeavor.]
...Even if I’m not the real Hythlodaeus, the only outlook I truly have to measure how I experience the world are these memories I experience like my very own.
[ he closes his eyes for a moment. He didn’t want to say this unkindly with everything to consider.]
...It will be simpler for me to play my part if you do not look at me so.
[ He cannot help himself— the need to break the tension is too powerful. ]
Not to mention the premature wrinkles you’ll give yourself.
[ He reaches forward to try to manually smooth his brow.]
[As Hythlodaeus begins, his eyes fall to the coffee in his hands, his eyes focusing on the rich brown of the liquid, and though focusing is not quite right. Considering that his gaze is not what's important here, but rather his busy thoughts as Hythlodaeus speaks freely as he was requested to do.
Indeed, his brow is furrowing by the time Hythlodaeus reaches over, and when he feels him touch his head, he jolts. Fortunately without the spill of coffee as a result, but he very narrowly avoids such.
The gesture is...haunting in its familiarity, and maybe that's the problem. He is being haunted by the ghost of Hythlodaeus, made by his own hand. Perhaps this was just another means to punish himself, to further remind himself of what he had been toiling for over the ages.
But he knows now that he has...given that up. That he has passed on the torch, and that Amaurot will never be. That Hythlodaeus will never return—none of them will, and it was his decision, his wager that would see to it.
Despite the continued conflict within himself, he uses his free hand to softly bat Hythlodaeus' hand away—much like he would the real one. It feels hollow, even if he does not mean it to be.]
It is still fresh. I still have...much to consider. You will forgive me if I cannot turn off my emotions like one does a lamp.
[A beat.]
That...aside. I do not know if I want you to play your part. To be candid, I do not much know what I want at all.
[He's about to grouse about the hand running through his hair, but then Hythlodaeus has to say that. While not verbatim of what he said to Dirk, it sure is close enough. It gives him obvious pause, and his mouth pulls into a thin, flat line.
Why does everything have to be so complicated all the time? Well, he knows why, but that small somewhat petulant part of him that never quite died over the span of eons still questions with reckless futility.
He doesn't look at Hythlodaeus, nor push his hand away.]
...Very well. If that is your wish.
[Which feels loaded, because for all he knows it isn't what Hythlodaeus wishes at all, but what Hades himself does....because he created him. Whatever he was feeling at the time, whatever thought or emotion was at play, Hythlodaeus was formed around it.
[It's more a hum than anything else as he takes another sip of his coffee. This whole thing with Hythlodaeus is far from settled, but this is all it can be at the moment. Besides, he has the mess with Dirk to attend to as well.
He has to figure out a way to fix that mess, get them back together. Ordinarily, he'd allow someone uninterested in being with him go, he is not one to force these things, however...
However Dirk is different, and he knows that Dirk does not truly long for solitude, knows that if he were to respect what Dirk says, he would not be respecting Dirk's actual wishes.
It's just hard to make a case for it when Dirk's reasons for pushing him away are entirely justified...
As he thinks about this, he's left staring at nothing in particular, his gaze distant and not entirely focused, but there's certainly that solemn grief to his features that are all too telling of what's on his mind.]
[Honestly, he doesn't know what to think of this. Hadn't he just spent a handful of minutes prior telling Hythlodaeus how fake he was, how he's not his Hythlodaeus? How cruel he'd been just moments ago, and here he was offering his help, playfully bumping their noses together. His mind a little too preoccupied to truly take in the proximity as what he should.
...Could he simply be unable to resist helping him because of the circumstance of his creation? Or, is this more along the lines of the friend he's a mock of? It's not uncharacteristic of Hythlodaeus, yet he cannot help but wonder.
Wonder, and feel guilty when he knows he shouldn't. Still, he does not draw away from the closeness of Hythlodaeus, enjoying the comfort it brings, and ignoring what suspicion he otherwise should have at his intentions.]
I suppose so... I have not given up hope for him yet, and I am far from finished.
[The kiss shocks him to reality, and there's an intense yet short war within himself over it. On one hand, the affection is certainly a balm to his aching soul, a comfort he's needed without fully realizing it. On the other, they are talking about him winning Dirk back after losing him for his infidelity with Hythlodaeus. Hythlodaeus, who is not actually the one he lost, but a fake he made and then was tricked by.
The war was over how to react, but the nuzzling against him sends both warmth through him and inspires goosebumps, and he's left frozen in place at the moment.
When he goes to speak, he realizes he was holding his breath.]
...Yes, but if I act too slowly he think me uncaring--yet too quickly, and I would worry he'd feel more obligation than true desire for me.
[He can feel the heat in his face as he looks down at Hythlodaeus' batting eyelashes. Inwardly cursing himself for still being susceptible to the fraudulent charms of this simulacrum...
Bringing a hand up, he presses it to Hythlodaeus' face to push him away—though the gesture isn't especially forceful or unkind, merely a means to afford him a little more personal space so he can think, not to mention quiet that heart of his down.]
Yes, yes. I am certain you'd love to assist me in every way imaginable. Though I do not think making you more of a villain than you have already prove yourself to be will help aught at all.
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Breath hitched in his throat, eyes burning from the sting of tears welling within them, and like his chest, his jaw aches from the tightness of how it clenches. Silently do his tears slick his cheeks, yet with each that falls, he feels no better. It changes nothing.
It does not bring Hythlodaeus back.
It does not make this man any more Hythlodaeus than he was moments ago.
It does not resolve the anguish in his heart that has been renewed.
It does not save him from this despair, and maybe nothing truly will.
As Hythlodaeus regains his resolve, he's far from regaining his own. Which is why when the other man stands, wiping away his own tears, Hades turns his head away from him, his mouth pulled into a tight grieving frown as he hopes his hair will be enough to hide his silent weeping.
But he asked him a question, didn't he? Swallowing thickly—a feeling akin to forcing a lead ball through a passage far too small—he regains his voice, or what remains of it. Fortunately with his gaze averted and a hand brought to his face, he does not see that smile. For it would be too much for his heart to take at the moment.]
...I know not. The damage is severe, there is no avoiding it. There is...much I must do, much I must repair in the wake of it all. My ire—still it burns brightly, I do not know when it will cool, but...
[He doesn't want Hythlodaeus to leave. Even if it hurts to look upon him, seeing his features still had some measure of comfort. Something familiar he has been without for so long. Too long.
And maybe he's weaker than he realized. That he would find himself so dependent upon a shade like he is...]
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[ The only thing that stops his desire for his dissipation in that moment is the more powerful want to comfort Hades.]
[The fretting, the inaction, it drives him mad. He’s aware, vaguely, of his own emotions knocking at the door in his mind, pulling his focus. He wrenches free.]
You’re looking too far ahead.
[ His voice is soft and careful, his expression schooled into one of a more familiar airy neutrality. Hades has no use for a broken shade.]
I mean only the next ten minutes. May I fix you a cup of coffee and a plate of biscuits?
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And as Hythlodaeus wants to comfort Hades, does Hades want for that comfort. Yet, he does not request it. Does not reach for it. He keeps himself distanced, closed off, alone.]
Ah, yes... That sounds quite lovely.
[He's able to get that out without too much of a quaver to his voice, nor a break. As he rubs at his eyes with a quick sweep of his hand, he keeps his face turned from Hythlodaeus, gesturing for him to go.]
I will need a moment ere I can join you.
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...We stay together or we go together. You’ve spent quite enough time alone.
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[As if the sound itself wasn't enough to mark his surprise, the way his body stiffens like a board may. That state does not last long, however, as the familiar warmth and comfort of Hythlodaeus' body eases him from such rigidity. With shuddered breaths, he tries to keep his resolve, and for the most part succeeds.
Or he would, if not for Hythlodaeus' comment. How many lonely centuries has he spent longing for Hythlodaeus--for Azem, too? How alone he's been, how lost he was without them, how achingly quiet the world has proven to be without the two of them making his life the joy it once was.
Had he known. Had he not taken so much for granted. Had he appreciated them and Amaurot and all of it more...
But it's all gone now, and he's ensured that it stays that way. He has forsaken them, forsaken his home, forsaken his brothers. To carry such a burden for far too long, without those he held most dear... Without those he loved without equal. It has worn him down to the core of his immortal soul.
And so, to hear those words with Hythlodaeus' voice, to feel him, to indulge in his warmth--but knowing that he will never truly come back. Even in this world, where the dead live again, he is still denied those he lost. A foolish hope, a foolish belief, that he would ever be so lucky to see them again.
That all his suffering would not earn him the chance.]
...Yes. How foolish of me.
[His voice is quiet and low--fragile, really.]
Let us go then, I am quite all right.
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[This confusing doubt that stood at war with him, he knew that he must oust it were they to survive this. They could sort out the wreckage later. ]
[He turns him by the shoulders and tilts his chin up.]
... You aren’t. And it is just as well to admit this, for you will be in time. I will see to it.
[ He wipes away Hades’ tears, heedless of the new ones that may form to take their place. He casts an arm around his shoulders and leads him inside. ]
[ That cruel self-doubt is not dead, of course. How could it be? Yet for now, this was good enough. It was quiet enough to act. ]
To the table or to bed?
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But he doesn't, and honestly, his mind goes to Dirk. How, despite all of this mess, he still has Hythlodaeus here. Still has this company, even if it's not the real Hythlodaeus, yet Dirk has...no one.
So really, he feels double the guilt, and isn't that just marvelous?
Nevertheless, he walks with Hythlodaeus, lost to his thoughts but brought out of them just as quickly. Raising his head without a single thought of how his glossy eyes must look, how the red to his face must make him look more like a boy than a man as he stares owlishly at Hythlodaeus. Perhaps he even sounds like one as he answers, finally drawing his gaze away from his company, his voice quiet.]
...Bed, I think. I should be glad to lie down for a spell while you prepare the coffee.
[Not that he needs to sleep more, when he slept through the previous day, but he still feels so tired.]
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It shouldn’t be too long.
[ He presses a kiss to the crown of his head as he goes off to prepare their snack. Alone for this moment, he feels a pit open up inside of him. ]
[ Even if Hades doesn’t trust him to fix this, he must. And with clear lines drawn in his duty, he cannot fail. ]
[ He meditates briefly as the water boils and again as it steeps. He reigns his focus in as he brings the tray into the bedroom with that warm, practiced smile upon his face, not trusting it to do as it would naturally. He pours each of them a cup of coffee and divides the delicate anise-scented wafer cookies between them, quiet as he seemed to still be lost in thought. ]
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His thoughts are scattered and disjointed, and as he starts to focus on one, another takes its place. How long has it been since he could not settle his mind? Ordinarily he can rein it in, even when his emotions were on the fritz, and yet here and now he feels helpless to their tumultuous tumbling and disorderliness.
While he isn't asleep, he does feel as though he's drifting. As though he is not here, yet he clearly is, but it's the smell of the coffee that brings him back—and the sound of the foot steps. Gold peers out from his cracked eyelids as he watches Hythlodaeus approach. Beholding him again, looking at him truly differently than he had all these moons.
Really, everything about him truly spoke of Hythlodaeus. How he walked, how he talked, everything was exactly as he remembered—but of course that's the case, when he is a being constructed from memory. Just as the sundered Convocation members were pale imitations to the ones they had lost. Replications and copies, all flawed, none truly filling the hole their predecessors left behind.
And like them, this Hythlodaeus was no better. Yet, in actuality, he was better in some ways. After all, he was made purely from Hades' memory of Hythlodaeus, and well did he know Hythlodaeus. He'd argue almost better than Hythlodaeus himself, really. Yet, despite that, he lacked a soul. He was no better than Ifrita, than the Phoenix, than any other concept.
Aether woven into form, but lacking a soul, lacking a natural place in the world, a natural place in the grand cycle of life...
He sits up as Hythlodaeus gets closer, bringing a hand to his head as he holds it. For good reason, too, all of this has left him with a bit of a headache. Nothing the coffee couldn't help, he figures. And, when Hythlodaeus offers it, he will take it.]
...Thank you.
[Is that really all he has to say? Well, at the moment, yes. He needs his coffee before he can talk any further, or else he threatens to split his mind in two with how much worse this headache will become.]
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...You’re welcome.
[ he stares hard into his coffee cup. They’re both large cups of lightly sweet and creamed coffees. A treat, really. Hythlodaues picks up a pizelle and takes a bite, regretting it immediately with the dryness of his mouth and the sourness in his stomach. When did that happen...? All the same he washes it down so that he doesn’t choke. ]
[ He could almost hear Hades' thoughts as he avoids it all. Scrutinizing him against the real one. Thinking about how he's fake. Thinly veiled resentment. He almost wishes he would have been allowed to leave.]
[Even if he's fake, he doesn't otherwise feel fake. He is too good of a Creation. He was made with the intent to see just as keenly as the real Hythlodaeus. If there were some fault, he would be aware of that much as well. Wouldn't he?]
[He would, he resolves quickly.]
[And he would tell Hades as much if he didn't knock this shit off quickly enough.]
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Well, that's a little unfair, but still he can feel the unease, and while Hythlodaeus has never proven himself particularly empathic, he knows that he would likely figure out his thoughts. His emotions.
And so, he chooses for the moment to indulge in the coffee and the cookies. Trying to ease the conflict inside himself, though he knows it's a fruitless endeavor.]
...If you have aught to say, I suggest you do so.
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[ he closes his eyes for a moment. He didn’t want to say this unkindly with everything to consider.]
...It will be simpler for me to play my part if you do not look at me so.
[ He cannot help himself— the need to break the tension is too powerful. ]
Not to mention the premature wrinkles you’ll give yourself.
[ He reaches forward to try to manually smooth his brow.]
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Indeed, his brow is furrowing by the time Hythlodaeus reaches over, and when he feels him touch his head, he jolts. Fortunately without the spill of coffee as a result, but he very narrowly avoids such.
The gesture is...haunting in its familiarity, and maybe that's the problem. He is being haunted by the ghost of Hythlodaeus, made by his own hand. Perhaps this was just another means to punish himself, to further remind himself of what he had been toiling for over the ages.
But he knows now that he has...given that up. That he has passed on the torch, and that Amaurot will never be. That Hythlodaeus will never return—none of them will, and it was his decision, his wager that would see to it.
Despite the continued conflict within himself, he uses his free hand to softly bat Hythlodaeus' hand away—much like he would the real one. It feels hollow, even if he does not mean it to be.]
It is still fresh. I still have...much to consider. You will forgive me if I cannot turn off my emotions like one does a lamp.
[A beat.]
That...aside. I do not know if I want you to play your part. To be candid, I do not much know what I want at all.
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[He raises a hand, the one that was batted away, and runs it through Hades' hair.]
...Then do not bother with choices you cannot make. I will make them for you in your stead. It has worked quite well in the past when we needed it to.
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Why does everything have to be so complicated all the time? Well, he knows why, but that small somewhat petulant part of him that never quite died over the span of eons still questions with reckless futility.
He doesn't look at Hythlodaeus, nor push his hand away.]
...Very well. If that is your wish.
[Which feels loaded, because for all he knows it isn't what Hythlodaeus wishes at all, but what Hades himself does....because he created him. Whatever he was feeling at the time, whatever thought or emotion was at play, Hythlodaeus was formed around it.
What a terrible thing he has done.]
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It is.
[ He drinks a bit more to wet his mouth before attempting to eat any more of his cookie. ]
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[It's more a hum than anything else as he takes another sip of his coffee. This whole thing with Hythlodaeus is far from settled, but this is all it can be at the moment. Besides, he has the mess with Dirk to attend to as well.
He has to figure out a way to fix that mess, get them back together. Ordinarily, he'd allow someone uninterested in being with him go, he is not one to force these things, however...
However Dirk is different, and he knows that Dirk does not truly long for solitude, knows that if he were to respect what Dirk says, he would not be respecting Dirk's actual wishes.
It's just hard to make a case for it when Dirk's reasons for pushing him away are entirely justified...
As he thinks about this, he's left staring at nothing in particular, his gaze distant and not entirely focused, but there's certainly that solemn grief to his features that are all too telling of what's on his mind.]
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...What of Dirk?
[ It was one of the pieces that he didn’t have enough data to accurately guess very far. ]
I trust that he isn’t faring well.
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He is not faring well, no. How could he, when what spurred his decision was the knowledge of my foolish infidelity.
[He pulls his gaze away, looking into the depths of his coffee.]
It would be cruel to expect him to be. He has every right to be cross with me, yet...
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We shall find a way through it, together. Surely he cannot resist you forever.
[ He spreads his fingers and rubs the short cropped hair at the back of his head. ]
It seems to me that you must seduce him anew. Yet this time you are armed with far more knowledge than before.
[ He bumps his nose against Hades’ playfully. ]
Let us make a plan.
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...Could he simply be unable to resist helping him because of the circumstance of his creation? Or, is this more along the lines of the friend he's a mock of? It's not uncharacteristic of Hythlodaeus, yet he cannot help but wonder.
Wonder, and feel guilty when he knows he shouldn't. Still, he does not draw away from the closeness of Hythlodaeus, enjoying the comfort it brings, and ignoring what suspicion he otherwise should have at his intentions.]
I suppose so... I have not given up hope for him yet, and I am far from finished.
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[ He presses his lips to Hades’ but briefly before nuzzling against him again like an over-affectionate horse. ]
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The war was over how to react, but the nuzzling against him sends both warmth through him and inspires goosebumps, and he's left frozen in place at the moment.
When he goes to speak, he realizes he was holding his breath.]
...Yes, but if I act too slowly he think me uncaring--yet too quickly, and I would worry he'd feel more obligation than true desire for me.
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[ Hades would at least need not ask himself if he was always so nefarious. He should know well that answer is yes, absolutely. ]
And if you might need a villain in your cause...
[ He peers up and bats his lashes. ]
You know where to find me.
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Bringing a hand up, he presses it to Hythlodaeus' face to push him away—though the gesture isn't especially forceful or unkind, merely a means to afford him a little more personal space so he can think, not to mention quiet that heart of his down.]
Yes, yes. I am certain you'd love to assist me in every way imaginable. Though I do not think making you more of a villain than you have already prove yourself to be will help aught at all.
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