Even one such as I would have been hard pressed to maintain my form for millennia.
[To say nothing of the changes wrought by the Sundering. Not to himself and his fellow Unsundered, of course, but to those who had otherwise inhabited the worlds as they had become. And for all that he would certainly not have minded retaining the height he had once had, it would only have proven difficult at best to meet the inhabitants of the Sundered worlds as anything other than their comparative equals. At least in so far as appearance had gone.
(And even now, in a form so very much not his own, there's still enough of him shining through that soulsight is scarcely necessary.)
On the bright side, he does also seem to be perfectly willing to discuss the fact that he is no longer in his own body. Even if he also isn't addressing that brief moment of concern that had crossed his expression.]
In any case, should you happen to meet my future self before I have the chance to be him, you are free to tell him as much. And I will likewise endeavor to remember.
[He makes no promises, of course. While he would normally have returned to the Underworld following his defeat at Himeka's hands, this world has interrupted that journey and not even he can say how - or if - that will have an effect.
Still, he's glad enough for Hythlodaeus' change of topic, when it comes.]
Of course. If you would follow me?
[He suspects the answer will be yes, but he still waits just a moment before heading off in the direction of where he currently resides.]
[He can only nod at that- for he did not know the circumstances and he did not know the initial demand this new world had so harshly, so abruptly, pressed upon his friend's shoulders. Yet he has no reason- none even in the slightest- to doubt that he speaks true.
Yet there is that concern again finding its way to his heart, causing his lips to form a straight line, his hand to curl slightly at his own cheek. His eyes lower ever so- not enough to leave the other proper, (after all of this time, such would be impossible) but low enough to appear to be considering something.
He wants, briefly, to ask if it had hurt. He does not know what such a question would accomplish. Yet the thought of his original body (even with the soul of which it served to house intact and safe within another), alone and cold somewhere strange, foreign...
It grieves him. More so than what he can bring to words, actually. And to think, He had once called the other man sentimental.
His gaze rises. The question is abandoned, but he has consolation. The soul- him, so bright even without means to detect it- is safe. And that soul, if his sight would later show millennia upon millennia had, indeed, left its mark- has not been changed unrecognizably.
And he is grateful for at least that.
...And yes, there's that small joke. Far be it for him to not carry it on. He smiles, once more- his gaze gentle.]
Thank you. But. Present limitations notwithstanding... I would posit you are the very same soul. So perhaps speculation on the extent of your future ire is utterly meaningless.
[And then there's the change of topic. He nods once more and follows- walking in step with the other. The sky, by now, shows barely the faintest tinge of gold streaks of sunset, instead wisps of grey clouds against a gradient of deep blue, fading down to the darkest of black.
Like their world, but also not.
He's silent for a good while. Yet it is not that previous concern that inspires it. Instead...]
I fear I would not know how to proceed were you not here. I am hardly anything alike you or the others they have summoned.
[A faint laugh. Because honestly.] I half had the urge to reapproach them and ask them if they had considered my summoning in sound mind!
[He turns his head to regard the other as they reach the field's boundaries.]
But you being here... I feel I have an understanding of it now. And as before- it would be my honour to support you with what they will ask of you. Should you have not had a better offer, of course!
[It had, if nothing else, been an adjustment. Even without having had to take new forms it would have been, and even now he still remembers the ache of having woken in the ruins of the city they had called home. In the shattered walls and broken buildings that had once been a city, full of life and laughter and people, and to find nothing more than ash. Nothing more than each other, strange bedfellows cast adrift in a world so unlike their own with nothing in common save the bonds of the Convocation and the unanswered grief that had sat heavy in their hearts.
But these are things he doesn't mean to burden Hythlodaeus with. They are his burdens to bear, and he has already noticed that Hythlodaeus seems to have his own share of concerns. (Which he may well ask about later, for all that he is willing to leave them be for now.)]
The same soul or no, you cannot deny that this is a far cry from our own world. Enough so that who can say what this interruption may result in, should we find our way back to the aetherial sea. Or even if we can.
[He is, at the least, aware that people can simply vanish from this world. But - as best he understands it - Himeka's dragoon companion had had a life to return to, rather than simply a small eternity in the aetherial sea.]
As to the matter of the summoning, I would not be surprised to learn that they have little control of it. Or barring that, less than they intend.
[A pause, and a shrug.]
Though if it must be a matter of chance, I cannot claim that yours is an unwelcome presence. Far from it, in fact!
[And subdued though the comment might sound to other ears, Hythlodaeus will know that it is anything but, from him. That Hythlodaeus' presence is something he means to treasure, for as long as this world should allow him to do so - and even if the fact that he has, apparently, been released from Zodiark is still more than a little concerning.]
And I have not, lest you wonder.
[There are certainly others of their own world - or something like their own world - but none who would think to offer their support so unconditionally, and as they leave the flower field behind, he turns slightly away from the main center of the town. The house he has taken as his is certainly not completely off the beaten path, but neither is it quite at the heart of everything. Which likely explains why it had yet been lying empty, when Emet-Selch had first arrived, some months ago.]
[Now that's a thought. His eyes drift from the brief examination of a nearby tree (far more crooked than what sparks joy, truth be told) to Emet-Selch's face, and his hand rises to his chin.]
Well, now. That would be a point- and as ever, finely made. [A light tap or two follows before his hand drops.] And it would beg the question as to whether or not our benefactors even have the means to return all to as it were.
[Surely anyone, no matter how poorly versed, with the power to call would also have the means to dismiss. But with what he's seen of the summonings so far, what he's described, and of course, Emet-Selch's own reservations, that one really can't be assumed. And...]
...I suppose if it were me churlish or selfish enough to call for aid from those of worlds beyond, I would only be inclined to release them if they played their parts in a manner most exemplary.
[It's speculation, most certainly. And it comes with an ill-feeling. The stakes were made quite clear at his summoning- that people wished to do this star harm. Even without speculation, it's clear. If anything happened to the star, their means of returning (if it even existed) would more than likely be destroyed alongside it.
It's an ill feeling for sure. Yet. Brooding never accomplished anything, and there's that other little statement, which yes. He absolutely understands the meaning of it. And yes, it lifts him.
He finds the corners of his mouth quirking upward slightly, his eyes forming the shape of crescents. Yes, it runs through his mind to be glib and come out with some line suggesting inadequacy- but really. Some things were beyond even their well-tread and comfortable little joke. And this? It spurs a warmth he hadn't felt in too long.
His hand rises once more to move a lock of his hair behind his ear, and, impishly-]
Good! I must confess, I would be simply devastated were things to be otherwise.
[He could go on, but their destination comes into view, and frankly- from the lack of anything else around- it must be their destination.
It's... certainly not any of Amaurot's buildings- marvels of engineering and design all. The dwelling, like the others he has noticed here, does not have any ambition to cradle the sky. It is not adorned with intricately worked glass, nor beautiful in any kind of symmetry. More brick and slab and stone, made well, most certainly, yet without a single mote of elegance.
But it is wonderful. In a completely different sense. He turns to his friend, and he smiles.]
[There's simply a shrug at the question of whether or not their summoners have the capability to return them to their own worlds. It's not something he's asked - and even if he had, he wouldn't be entirely surprised should it turn out that what they claimed to be capable of and what they were actually capable of were two very different things.
Not that he addresses that point. Instead, he turns to something related - and something he has a little more direct experience with, besides.]
I have seen people disappear, though I would hardly call it common. Nor can I say if it is done intentionally, or some failing in that which has drawn us here.
[Neither of which are like to be terribly comforting revelations, but he would rather have them said instead of letting them linger in the dark corners of his mind. Besides, while there are those who have vanished, he himself is proof enough that it is not always a factor of time. Besides, while he doubts many things about the world, and those who have summoned them, and even the nature of the Singularity itself, his recent death (by his counting) has meant that he is considerably less driven to cause Rejoinings. A fact which in turn means that he is more able to follow his own paths of research - the nature of the star and their reason for being called here among them.
(That he has something of a history with worlds on the brink of potential catastrophe has absolutely nothing to do with his willingness to stay, nor his willingness to help - or so he will claim if asked.)
Still, he is more than glad to leave topic aside once the house he considers his comes into view, although by the shrug that follows Hythlodaeus' words, he means to at least attempt to claim it to be anything but him having 'done well'.]
It was in a state of disrepair when I first came upon it. I had to do something.
[That he might instead have chosen not to and decided to live with someone else seems to have not so much as crossed his mind, though this too is likely not a surprise.
Still, it's clear that he has put no small amount of effort into its repair, even at some distance. Effort that becomes all the clearer as they draw near - though he has taken pains to match the materials native to Solvunn, the glass in the windows is clean and clear; the bricks and stone carefully arranged to best hold the weight of the walls and roof. A subtle elegance, perhaps. But one he has allowed himself to indulge in.
It takes but a moment longer to arrive on the doorstep, and once they do, Emet-Selch opens the door without a second thought, gesturing Hythlodaeus inside as he does.
Inside, the house is... perhaps not cozy, not quite. But it's still more than clear that Emet-Selch has made himself at home - here too, the design elements are familiar, for all that there is only so much Emet can do while still keeping in line with the rest of the houses in Solvunn. But he's taken care to raise the ceiling - and the supports that brace it - up just enough that neither he not Hythlodaeus need to worry about bumping their heads (nor on the door frames, Hythlodaeus will find.
But it's the rugs and blankets that mark it as being a home of Emet-Selch's making, more so than anything else. While there is no denying that even now the chill of winter lingers in the air, there are more than one would expect. As if it were the home of someone trying to do something with the bleak exterior stone might offer... or that of a man deeply and distinctly unfond of cold. Not that Emet-Selch addresses the fact. Instead, he simply lights the fireplace with a snap of his fingers and then turns back to Hythlodaeus.]
Had I known of your imminent arrival, I would have arranged to have more to hand.
[But alas, he had not, and all he has to offer is what Hythlodaeus can see - and, of course, what he is capable of creating.]
Yet that tended to be Emet-Selch's way before he had even become Emet-Selch. Hades was a man of ingenuity- of finding so many ways to do so many things that so many others thought impossible. Of letting his accomplishments speak for themselves, with nary a second thought as to the impressions they would place upon those of lesser imagination, lesser talent, lesser means. And when those impressions became clear- as they so often did, (for so many others simply could not help but be less) eschewing the praise and open wonder that would result. Even going as far as to dismiss it outright, or more proactively, stay silent about as many of his accomplishments as he could.
...It's endearing. An endearing trait amongst a list of traits Hythlodaeus, personally, could not and still cannot help but be touched by. And although this stone domicile is not something groundbreaking, nor anything new, the work involved is apparent to him, even without his sight. It shows as something that would take quite a lot of aether to form, quite a lot of skill to match so perfectly to Solvunn's aesthetic, and quite a lot of work to make amendments such as the raised ceilings feel seamless, natural- as if they belonged to the original design. It was not simply a case of raising the elevation of the ceilings and having done with it- thought had gone into it- making it appear just right. And knowing his friend, it was not fleeting thought. It was real, and no small amount of it.
Elements such as the abundance of soft furnishings indeed do speak to the other's bitter dislike of the cold. That's clear- and for any that knew Emet-Selch, that would be apparent. Yet for he, who knew Hades as well, there is more example of that tendency to really think about what he did. The space could be described as utilitarian. Everything within this room has function and purpose- be it a particularly shaped couch close to the fire which could also double as an excellent place to sleep without feeling a series of aches and pains when one wakes- or a bay window which could also provide a reading (...and napping, judging by the pillows) spot for fine and sunny days. So much thought is there, even in what is normally afterthought. The soft furnishings, for example.
The throws and the pillows are undistinct in pattern, but in material, they have been created to promote warmth. Both in function and appearance- for one could not simply look at deliberately oversized fleece blankets, thick rugs one's feet sink unto, furs and so many other little things without wishing to wrap themselves in them.
Yes. He has done well. As the large fireplace is lit, magicked into a roaring blaze in all but an instant- he can't help but bring his eyes back to Emet-Selch. And he can't help but smile at both his modesty, and how he must have agonized over what is here. ]
Be that as it may, I've a feeling you'll struggle to be rid of me.
[For creating the only indoor space in Solvunn he doesn't have to mind his head within, yes. But for many other reasons.]
[It had been no simple thing, that much is certain. He cannot claimed to have minded the work much - he has always been inclined to find a certain amount of joy in a project he can really sink his teeth into - but simple it had not been. Even with the house having not yet fallen into abject ruin by the time he had come across it, shortly after having arrived in Solvunn proper. That he had not, particularly, needed to consider anyone else design preferences in the process had helped, though he figures that is something he needs to explain to Hythlodaeus. Not when his own preferences are so clear in the architectural details as it is.
(Even if the throws and pillows could perhaps benefit from having a more distinct pattern.)]
That assumes I might have wished to.
[And he does not. Though there are yet millennia that stand between him and Hythlodaeus, in terms of life actually lived, he cannot deny that there is a comfort in presence. An easy familiarity that he has missed, and though he would have been perfectly willing to continue living alone, now that Hythlodaeus is here... he does not entirely wish to.]
Assuming you have yet to find another place of residence?
[He knows Hythlodaeus hasn't been present in this world for long, yes. But that is no guarantee either, and while Hythlodaeus is more than welcome in his own home, neither will he insist on it.]
[Oh, goodness. He truly does have to bring his hand to his face, bending his fingers at the second knuckle, to tap against his chin just faintly in order to conceal the smile that is (blossoming) spreading across his face. His eyes are crescents- looking away in very clear (and most terribly concealed) delight at the proposition.
And really, there are so many differences between them now in regard to life lived. He has reservations. He has worries- that Emet-Selch, like Hemera (No- he has to remind himself. Himeka.) may have changed, grown, and adapted to no longer require him. Worse than the scenario with Himeka- who cannot remember her life lived within another vessel as another woman, his presence may end up causing pain as reminder of a past long lost.
These concerns are real. They are pondered, and they are worried over. ...Yet. He cannot say he has personally changed. He has no desire but to be as close as possible. And even without his soulsight, it is clear to him through this particular show of sentimentality in asking, that the man before him is very much the one he had dedicated himself to, the one who he wished to share the company of, always. Even given all of this time.
So.]
There is a family that are expecting me, actually. I believe it to be some preset allocation. Though I'm most certain they'll understand. Solvunn is a nation that believes ties to one another are something to be cherished, does it not?
[Essentially, yes. He'd be delighted to stay. And oh, it shows. Perhaps in his own sentimentality.]
[For all that Emet-Selch had not truly believed that Hythlodaeus would turn down the offer, it's still a relief to hear him say as much. One that he knows he will be unable to entirely hide, even though his expression only shows part of it. A part that is all but outweighed by the way his soul all but shines at those words, even as he nods at the question.]
It does, yes.
[And there is certainly no denying they have that. They, who are some of the last remnants of their world, and have meant so much to each other over the course of their lives. And while there is no doubt in Emet-Selch's mind that they will need time to return to anything like the equilibrium they had once found, when the world had been whole... it is simplicity itself to make space for Hythlodaeus. To offer him the space that had always been his. That always would have been his, and that he had carried with him through each and every century of his long life. One of a pair of aching emptinesses he has come to know as well as his own self... and the greater of the pair besides, in that it had not once had even a fragmented echo to stand in memory.]
It was nothing. You would always have been welcomed here.
[A pause, and then:]
Though I will admit, I had hoped you might choose to reside here.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Even one such as I would have been hard pressed to maintain my form for millennia.
[To say nothing of the changes wrought by the Sundering. Not to himself and his fellow Unsundered, of course, but to those who had otherwise inhabited the worlds as they had become. And for all that he would certainly not have minded retaining the height he had once had, it would only have proven difficult at best to meet the inhabitants of the Sundered worlds as anything other than their comparative equals. At least in so far as appearance had gone.
(And even now, in a form so very much not his own, there's still enough of him shining through that soulsight is scarcely necessary.)
On the bright side, he does also seem to be perfectly willing to discuss the fact that he is no longer in his own body. Even if he also isn't addressing that brief moment of concern that had crossed his expression.]
In any case, should you happen to meet my future self before I have the chance to be him, you are free to tell him as much. And I will likewise endeavor to remember.
[He makes no promises, of course. While he would normally have returned to the Underworld following his defeat at Himeka's hands, this world has interrupted that journey and not even he can say how - or if - that will have an effect.
Still, he's glad enough for Hythlodaeus' change of topic, when it comes.]
Of course. If you would follow me?
[He suspects the answer will be yes, but he still waits just a moment before heading off in the direction of where he currently resides.]
no subject
Yet there is that concern again finding its way to his heart, causing his lips to form a straight line, his hand to curl slightly at his own cheek. His eyes lower ever so- not enough to leave the other proper, (after all of this time, such would be impossible) but low enough to appear to be considering something.
He wants, briefly, to ask if it had hurt.
He does not know what such a question would accomplish. Yet the thought of his original body (even with the soul of which it served to house intact and safe within another), alone and cold somewhere strange, foreign...
It grieves him. More so than what he can bring to words, actually. And to think, He had once called the other man sentimental.
His gaze rises. The question is abandoned, but he has consolation. The soul- him, so bright even without means to detect it- is safe. And that soul, if his sight would later show millennia upon millennia had, indeed, left its mark- has not been changed unrecognizably.
And he is grateful for at least that.
...And yes, there's that small joke. Far be it for him to not carry it on. He smiles, once more- his gaze gentle.]
Thank you. But. Present limitations notwithstanding... I would posit you are the very same soul. So perhaps speculation on the extent of your future ire is utterly meaningless.
[And then there's the change of topic. He nods once more and follows- walking in step with the other. The sky, by now, shows barely the faintest tinge of gold streaks of sunset, instead wisps of grey clouds against a gradient of deep blue, fading down to the darkest of black.
Like their world, but also not.
He's silent for a good while. Yet it is not that previous concern that inspires it. Instead...]
I fear I would not know how to proceed were you not here. I am hardly anything alike you or the others they have summoned.
[A faint laugh. Because honestly.] I half had the urge to reapproach them and ask them if they had considered my summoning in sound mind!
[He turns his head to regard the other as they reach the field's boundaries.]
But you being here... I feel I have an understanding of it now. And as before- it would be my honour to support you with what they will ask of you. Should you have not had a better offer, of course!
no subject
But these are things he doesn't mean to burden Hythlodaeus with. They are his burdens to bear, and he has already noticed that Hythlodaeus seems to have his own share of concerns. (Which he may well ask about later, for all that he is willing to leave them be for now.)]
The same soul or no, you cannot deny that this is a far cry from our own world. Enough so that who can say what this interruption may result in, should we find our way back to the aetherial sea. Or even if we can.
[He is, at the least, aware that people can simply vanish from this world. But - as best he understands it - Himeka's dragoon companion had had a life to return to, rather than simply a small eternity in the aetherial sea.]
As to the matter of the summoning, I would not be surprised to learn that they have little control of it. Or barring that, less than they intend.
[A pause, and a shrug.]
Though if it must be a matter of chance, I cannot claim that yours is an unwelcome presence. Far from it, in fact!
[And subdued though the comment might sound to other ears, Hythlodaeus will know that it is anything but, from him. That Hythlodaeus' presence is something he means to treasure, for as long as this world should allow him to do so - and even if the fact that he has, apparently, been released from Zodiark is still more than a little concerning.]
And I have not, lest you wonder.
[There are certainly others of their own world - or something like their own world - but none who would think to offer their support so unconditionally, and as they leave the flower field behind, he turns slightly away from the main center of the town. The house he has taken as his is certainly not completely off the beaten path, but neither is it quite at the heart of everything. Which likely explains why it had yet been lying empty, when Emet-Selch had first arrived, some months ago.]
no subject
Well, now. That would be a point- and as ever, finely made. [A light tap or two follows before his hand drops.] And it would beg the question as to whether or not our benefactors even have the means to return all to as it were.
[Surely anyone, no matter how poorly versed, with the power to call would also have the means to dismiss. But with what he's seen of the summonings so far, what he's described, and of course, Emet-Selch's own reservations, that one really can't be assumed. And...]
...I suppose if it were me churlish or selfish enough to call for aid from those of worlds beyond, I would only be inclined to release them if they played their parts in a manner most exemplary.
[It's speculation, most certainly. And it comes with an ill-feeling. The stakes were made quite clear at his summoning- that people wished to do this star harm. Even without speculation, it's clear. If anything happened to the star, their means of returning (if it even existed) would more than likely be destroyed alongside it.
It's an ill feeling for sure.
Yet. Brooding never accomplished anything, and there's that other little statement, which yes. He absolutely understands the meaning of it. And yes, it lifts him.
He finds the corners of his mouth quirking upward slightly, his eyes forming the shape of crescents. Yes, it runs through his mind to be glib and come out with some line suggesting inadequacy- but really. Some things were beyond even their well-tread and comfortable little joke. And this? It spurs a warmth he hadn't felt in too long.
His hand rises once more to move a lock of his hair behind his ear, and, impishly-]
Good! I must confess, I would be simply devastated were things to be otherwise.
[He could go on, but their destination comes into view, and frankly- from the lack of anything else around- it must be their destination.
It's... certainly not any of Amaurot's buildings- marvels of engineering and design all. The dwelling, like the others he has noticed here, does not have any ambition to cradle the sky. It is not adorned with intricately worked glass, nor beautiful in any kind of symmetry. More brick and slab and stone, made well, most certainly, yet without a single mote of elegance.
But it is wonderful. In a completely different sense.
He turns to his friend, and he smiles.]
My, you have done well.
no subject
Not that he addresses that point. Instead, he turns to something related - and something he has a little more direct experience with, besides.]
I have seen people disappear, though I would hardly call it common. Nor can I say if it is done intentionally, or some failing in that which has drawn us here.
[Neither of which are like to be terribly comforting revelations, but he would rather have them said instead of letting them linger in the dark corners of his mind. Besides, while there are those who have vanished, he himself is proof enough that it is not always a factor of time. Besides, while he doubts many things about the world, and those who have summoned them, and even the nature of the Singularity itself, his recent death (by his counting) has meant that he is considerably less driven to cause Rejoinings. A fact which in turn means that he is more able to follow his own paths of research - the nature of the star and their reason for being called here among them.
(That he has something of a history with worlds on the brink of potential catastrophe has absolutely nothing to do with his willingness to stay, nor his willingness to help - or so he will claim if asked.)
Still, he is more than glad to leave topic aside once the house he considers his comes into view, although by the shrug that follows Hythlodaeus' words, he means to at least attempt to claim it to be anything but him having 'done well'.]
It was in a state of disrepair when I first came upon it. I had to do something.
[That he might instead have chosen not to and decided to live with someone else seems to have not so much as crossed his mind, though this too is likely not a surprise.
Still, it's clear that he has put no small amount of effort into its repair, even at some distance. Effort that becomes all the clearer as they draw near - though he has taken pains to match the materials native to Solvunn, the glass in the windows is clean and clear; the bricks and stone carefully arranged to best hold the weight of the walls and roof. A subtle elegance, perhaps. But one he has allowed himself to indulge in.
It takes but a moment longer to arrive on the doorstep, and once they do, Emet-Selch opens the door without a second thought, gesturing Hythlodaeus inside as he does.
Inside, the house is... perhaps not cozy, not quite. But it's still more than clear that Emet-Selch has made himself at home - here too, the design elements are familiar, for all that there is only so much Emet can do while still keeping in line with the rest of the houses in Solvunn. But he's taken care to raise the ceiling - and the supports that brace it - up just enough that neither he not Hythlodaeus need to worry about bumping their heads (nor on the door frames, Hythlodaeus will find.
But it's the rugs and blankets that mark it as being a home of Emet-Selch's making, more so than anything else. While there is no denying that even now the chill of winter lingers in the air, there are more than one would expect. As if it were the home of someone trying to do something with the bleak exterior stone might offer... or that of a man deeply and distinctly unfond of cold. Not that Emet-Selch addresses the fact. Instead, he simply lights the fireplace with a snap of his fingers and then turns back to Hythlodaeus.]
Had I known of your imminent arrival, I would have arranged to have more to hand.
[But alas, he had not, and all he has to offer is what Hythlodaeus can see - and, of course, what he is capable of creating.]
no subject
Yet that tended to be Emet-Selch's way before he had even become Emet-Selch. Hades was a man of ingenuity- of finding so many ways to do so many things that so many others thought impossible. Of letting his accomplishments speak for themselves, with nary a second thought as to the impressions they would place upon those of lesser imagination, lesser talent, lesser means. And when those impressions became clear- as they so often did, (for so many others simply could not help but be less) eschewing the praise and open wonder that would result. Even going as far as to dismiss it outright, or more proactively, stay silent about as many of his accomplishments as he could.
...It's endearing.
An endearing trait amongst a list of traits Hythlodaeus, personally, could not and still cannot help but be touched by. And although this stone domicile is not something groundbreaking, nor anything new, the work involved is apparent to him, even without his sight. It shows as something that would take quite a lot of aether to form, quite a lot of skill to match so perfectly to Solvunn's aesthetic, and quite a lot of work to make amendments such as the raised ceilings feel seamless, natural- as if they belonged to the original design. It was not simply a case of raising the elevation of the ceilings and having done with it- thought had gone into it- making it appear just right. And knowing his friend, it was not fleeting thought. It was real, and no small amount of it.
Elements such as the abundance of soft furnishings indeed do speak to the other's bitter dislike of the cold. That's clear- and for any that knew Emet-Selch, that would be apparent. Yet for he, who knew Hades as well, there is more example of that tendency to really think about what he did. The space could be described as utilitarian. Everything within this room has function and purpose- be it a particularly shaped couch close to the fire which could also double as an excellent place to sleep without feeling a series of aches and pains when one wakes- or a bay window which could also provide a reading (...and napping, judging by the pillows) spot for fine and sunny days. So much thought is there, even in what is normally afterthought. The soft furnishings, for example.
The throws and the pillows are undistinct in pattern, but in material, they have been created to promote warmth. Both in function and appearance- for one could not simply look at deliberately oversized fleece blankets, thick rugs one's feet sink unto, furs and so many other little things without wishing to wrap themselves in them.
Yes. He has done well. As the large fireplace is lit, magicked into a roaring blaze in all but an instant- he can't help but bring his eyes back to Emet-Selch. And he can't help but smile at both his modesty, and how he must have agonized over what is here. ]
Be that as it may, I've a feeling you'll struggle to be rid of me.
[For creating the only indoor space in Solvunn he doesn't have to mind his head within, yes. But for many other reasons.]
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(Even if the throws and pillows could perhaps benefit from having a more distinct pattern.)]
That assumes I might have wished to.
[And he does not. Though there are yet millennia that stand between him and Hythlodaeus, in terms of life actually lived, he cannot deny that there is a comfort in presence. An easy familiarity that he has missed, and though he would have been perfectly willing to continue living alone, now that Hythlodaeus is here... he does not entirely wish to.]
Assuming you have yet to find another place of residence?
[He knows Hythlodaeus hasn't been present in this world for long, yes. But that is no guarantee either, and while Hythlodaeus is more than welcome in his own home, neither will he insist on it.]
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And really, there are so many differences between them now in regard to life lived. He has reservations. He has worries- that Emet-Selch, like Hemera (No- he has to remind himself. Himeka.) may have changed, grown, and adapted to no longer require him. Worse than the scenario with Himeka- who cannot remember her life lived within another vessel as another woman, his presence may end up causing pain as reminder of a past long lost.
These concerns are real. They are pondered, and they are worried over. ...Yet. He cannot say he has personally changed. He has no desire but to be as close as possible. And even without his soulsight, it is clear to him through this particular show of sentimentality in asking, that the man before him is very much the one he had dedicated himself to, the one who he wished to share the company of, always. Even given all of this time.
So.]
There is a family that are expecting me, actually. I believe it to be some preset allocation. Though I'm most certain they'll understand. Solvunn is a nation that believes ties to one another are something to be cherished, does it not?
[Essentially, yes. He'd be delighted to stay. And oh, it shows. Perhaps in his own sentimentality.]
...Thank you, Hades.
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It does, yes.
[And there is certainly no denying they have that. They, who are some of the last remnants of their world, and have meant so much to each other over the course of their lives. And while there is no doubt in Emet-Selch's mind that they will need time to return to anything like the equilibrium they had once found, when the world had been whole... it is simplicity itself to make space for Hythlodaeus. To offer him the space that had always been his. That always would have been his, and that he had carried with him through each and every century of his long life. One of a pair of aching emptinesses he has come to know as well as his own self... and the greater of the pair besides, in that it had not once had even a fragmented echo to stand in memory.]
It was nothing. You would always have been welcomed here.
[A pause, and then:]
Though I will admit, I had hoped you might choose to reside here.