Your idea of banal is probably similar to mine, thinking about it. If it doesn't stimulate you at least a little mentally, it's kinda useless, right? That in mind, I think I can pick something out that'll please both of us. (・ω<)
Huh? Maybe you need to step back and look at it again. It's supposed to be a winking face. I saw someone else doing it, and I thought it was cute, so...
Anyway, I'm outside one of the reopened theaters in the Entertainment District. I wanted to ask about the shows, so I just came here in person. It's the big one that hosted a lot of the orchestral performances until recently.
[Emet-Selch pauses, stares again at the previous message. Was this some kind of joke? He just can't see it....]
Across all of my years, I've yet to come across a face that looks anything like that.
Regardless. I believe I know the one you mean. I shall be there shortly.
[Getting ready doesn't take that long, and when he can teleport to the general area... yes, he doesn't leave Irhya waiting that long, despite his unhurried pace. Lazily scanning the crowds, he doesn't spot her immediately.]
[More than likely, he can't spot her immediately because her entire body is covered by a dove-colored cloak, ears and tail included. A necessary evil to be out in the daytime... not to mention interrupting her nocturnal sleep pattern. But she supposes it's worth it in this case.
So, instead of him approaching her, she finds him after a bit of glancing about, tipping the hood back a little bit to smile even if not lowering it entirely.]
Hey.
[And here she was almost, almost expecting him to walk it just to keep her waiting, if not for the fact that it'd be more effort than just teleporting in the first place. And the less effort for him, the better.]
Thank you for coming out. I put a lot of thought into this, so I'm hoping it goes over well... I was very careful about avoiding certain themes. And we could go for dinner afterward too, if you're willing.
[A small cat in a cloak is an easy thing to overlook, so Emet-Selch is not surprised to have missed her, on his initial scan of the area. Irhya's greeting gets a half-shrug from him, though his manner isn't particularly unfriendly. Casual, or at least a fair attempt at it.
It's true that he could've kept her waiting. Even with a teleport involved, the Ascian could've lazed away back at the house for a time before moving. But, if he was going out to see her, then he was going out to see her; while he was certainly petty enough to make Irhya wait for him... it was something he decided not to indulge. If she was putting forth an effort, he may as well try to match her for it.
That, and he didn't know when the show actually started, and the Ascian was curious as to what Irhya had picked out for them. Her comment gets an idle hum and an amused look.]
What themes are we attempting to avoid? But while I'm here, I suppose we might as well make an evening of it.
[How gracious, to accept being taken to dinner....]
Themes that will remind us both of what I am attempting to avoid for the moment.
[In other words, mortality, war, and other such things that will likely cause an argument, or some raw feelings at the very least. She glances at one of the advertisement posters.]
At least based on the summary, the people in this particular play are already dead. I guess it's about three damned people stuck in a room together, awaiting judgment. It sounded interesting enough without delving too deeply into those existential questions that would ultimately seem very... mortal to you.
[She really had to put some thought into it, though; the other choices seemed to be lighthearted comedy, which she wasn't keen on, and some other things that definitely would not have impressed him in the slightest.
It occurs to her, thinking of the former, that she's never quite seen him laugh before. It's almost difficult to picture.]
...If that sounds all right. If not, I don't mind picking something else.
[A thoughtful sound, though he can (if slightly grudgingly) appreciate Irhya's attempts to both take his interests (and disinterests) into account. And while he considered being miffed at the possible implication that he wouldn't be able to handle a show that touched on the complications of mortality... that very inclination probably meant Irhya's instincts were right.
So he acquiesces with a brief nod.]
And a performance surrounding death avoids this...? But very well.
[The premise sounded simple enough, but not uninteresting, and as with all shows, it was a matter of seeing whether the writing and acting was of sufficient quality to hold it together.]
So when does it start? I assume shortly, as you called me out here.
It was that or comedy, and that has even more of a chance of falling flat if you ask me.
[She waves a hand, quietly hoping he doesn't pick up on the thin layer of anxiety beneath her actions. Removing two tickets from an inside pocket, she fans them out and grins.]
In about half a bell. They should be selling snacks in the meantime, though! I could go for a few of those cake rolls.
I suspect you're right. Humor is rather individual.
[The one benefit to a lack of Bond, is that it made it that much harder for him to pick up on things like anxiety. It didn't occur to him that there would be any reason for it- so why would she be nervous?
If anything, he's amused at the confidence over having already purchased the tickets, assuming both that he'd turn up, and that he'd find her choice of show acceptable. And, well, since her intuition was correct, it was a presumption he could view positively.
At her mention of snacks, he gestures vaguely in the direction that they're being sold in as an acquiescence, as they walk over there.]
I've wondered about that, actually... how does normal food affect you?
[Is it safe for vampires to eat things like that...?]
I can eat normal food, but my body can't really use it even if I still process it the same way. Some stuff tastes terrible to me now that used to be fine, oddly enough. I can't deal with cooked meat anymore, which is perhaps the strangest, but things like sweets are still good.
[She's not run into problems yet, at least, but she'll cross that bridge if it comes. Fortunately, he seems to be willing to play along with her today, so hopefully the actual play itself doesn't put him in a sour mood. She just hopes Solus's love of theatre was genuine and not another part of the emperor act.
She comes away from the refreshments with a stack of the aforementioned cake rolls, individually wrapped. Leading him to their seats -- an aisle seat for her, chosen on purpose so that she doesn't have to strain over taller heads to see what's going on -- she extends one to him.]
I've no idea how much of a sweet tooth you have, but... want one?
Well, at least you're spared a uniform diet. Blood alone sounds like it could become rather dull.
[But interesting, that a technically-dead entity could still consume things, even if Irhya couldn't get nourishment from it.
At least his appreciation for theatre was more than just pretense. Sure, he allowed- even obliquely encouraged- radical or even politically-critical productions because of the destabilizing effect it would have on Garlemald, but that was more a pleasant coincidence. A practical effort that he could take some kind of diversion from.
Though he does look askance at Irhya's offering for a moment, in the end he shrugs, taking her proffered gift.]
They're not my preferred flavor, but since you're offering.
[Free food is free food, and it was a polite gesture.]
I'll be sure to get your preferred flavor next time, then.
[A sly grin. Even so, she looks pleased enough at his acceptance, plopping down in the seat after letting him through. The dull din of people murmuring amongst themselves dies down as the lights dim, and the show starts.
Fortunately for the people backstage, it appears to be a show with a single setting, which means they were able to go all out in making it look lavish; couches, the statue above the fireplace, everything that would make any other play's stage hands groan for having to move it so frequently. At first, the three people led into the room are in denial; the man claims he was executed for being a pacifist, while one of the women thinks there has been some mistake. But the other woman is quick to deduce that none of this has been left to chance, from the furniture to the three specific people present in the room.
Finally, they confess. One died from being executed by firing squad. One died of pneumonia, half-conscious. One died in her sleep, suffocated by a leaky gas stove. And, the woman Inez is quick to point out, they're here to make one another suffer.
Irhya scoffs.]
Mmm... rather quick to get to the point, isn't she?
[In a play with such a limited setting and so few characters, the success of the affair really was weighted on the skill of the writing and the presentation of the actors. And while Emet-Selch was well-prepared to be critical, he gradually relaxed somewhat and fell into the story as presented. Thus far, it was all competent enough....
He does look askance at Irhya at her comment (fortunately she's sitting on the side of his good eye, so he can sideeye her and actually see her). But he does spare a reply, given in an undertone.]
Some have a low toleration for liars.
[The three were all clearly terrible people- a fine example of mortals- and he could grudgingly appreciate that no matter how two of the characters might have protested, that there was no denying it in the end. There was no narrative justification or absolution for their crimes. And how appropriate, that three such people should be trapped together in death, the only company they deserved.]
[The play doesn't even last a full bell, over almost as quickly as it began. She has to wonder if it's just this particular troupe testing the waters before putting on something longer and more in-depth, to make sure nothing goes wrong to warrant a ban on theater again -- and that's probably exactly it, she concludes, but still, they could've chosen something a little more detailed. Or added onto the existing script, perhaps...
Once they're outside the theater, she stretches and yawns.]
Shorter than I thought, but what did you think? Enough to provoke thought for at least a few waking hours, I hope?
[It had been a rather short experience, he could agree with that much.]
You could say it didn't overstay its welcome.
[It was still daylight, even, when they exit the theater, his eyes blinking as they adjust to the comparatively brighter outside.]
It wasn't terrible. I've seen far worse. I'd even claim that its length is to its credit... when you can accomplish what you set out to in a short piece, extending it for the sake of it does you no favors.
[That all probably counted as some sort of praise. He's still mulling it over, at least, rather than immediately discounting the event.]
And what did you make of it? Not too disappointed with your choice, I hope.
[Comparatively, the sun to her is blinding; she has to bury herself in her hood for a few moments while her eyes adjust, making a groan of discomfort.]
Well, that sounds pretty positive coming from you.
[Though perhaps he has a point there. As long as the length didn't put him off, then it seems everything went according to plan. She can kind of get behind the author's worldview, too; the idea of the human experience being defined by what the individual chooses it to be. To some extent, at least.]
It met my expectations. I'd call it quite clever, actually, to take such a seemingly silly scenario like "three people trapped in a room after death" and inject the kinds of questions into it that it did. And with such brevity, too.
[Once she's no longer at risk for being blinded by the sun, she emerges again like a turtle coming out of its shell, just with the protective hood still up. The sun is not as high now, but no less powerful than before.]
So! Dinner? Are you hungry?
[Looking at him expectantly. If he's not, then she definitely is, though it's something she'll have to approach a little more tactfully than just blurting it out at the table... right?]
So neither of us came out disappointed. How fortunate.
[Not that he'd gone into it with particularly high expectations, but he always left room for disappointment. Even what he considered to be modest standards were frequently not met.]
And I suppose I could eat, if you haven't changed your mind about offering.
[He's actually thinking of Irhya's own dietary requirements at the mention of dinner. And while Emet-Selch is certainly selfish enough to not give much of a damn as a default, he is trying to be on better terms with her.]
But what of you? 'Tis not as though your recent snack did much for your own condition.
Well... I must admit, I had thought about asking you afterward, but it seems you beat me to it. It isn't urgent, but I prefer to keep fed so there's no chance of any... accidents.
[She brings a finger to her lips, thinking about it. It also wasn't the point of the outing, so a part of her wants to just say she's fine and let the opportunity go. And yet... he was willing to still put himself out there for that, so she ought to at least prove his trust isn't misplaced, feeble a thing though it is right now.]
I don't mind letting you eat first, though. Then perhaps we can return home and see to that, if you're still willing.
[Hopefully she won't mind a stupid amount of bruising and bite marks around his throat; pucas are not as tidy feeders as vampires.
But he punctuates it with a faint shrug, as though to indicate that it wasn't a big deal. That there was nothing wrong with being hungry, and nothing unusual in using him as a source of food. While things weren't normal and Emet-Selch wasn't about to pretend as such... treating something like this like it was something to make a big production of concern over wouldn't help anything at all.
And it was fair, feeding each other, one way or another.]
So, where are you taking me?
the Hyth player just reminded me of something important asjfkdhsakfj
[She's about to lead him away when she suddenly remembers something, her ears perking up with alarm. It had only been a passing mention by Hythlodaeus before he vanished, but it's still stuck in her mind...
Irhya stops in her tracks, whips around, and scans the theater's sign.]
Wait a second. Wasn't this the place where...?
[Shite. It is, isn't it? Abruptly, she pulls Hades by the hand and heads back towards the theater, powering her way past the ushers with a quick "Forgot something, sorry!"
It's only once she gets back to the now-clear aisle that she explains herself.]
Sod me, I almost forgot to tell you... Look up.
[She gestures at the ceiling. On it, someone has done a meticulous job of painting Amaurot's night sky.]
[Being dragged back inside (suddenly, and without much explanation) wasn't according to his expectations, but apart from a grumbly noise of protest, the Ascian doesn't argue. Whatever it was, Irhya would not be denied, and after his moment of annoyance, curiosity began to take its place. What could be important enough to warrant this kind of reaction?
So he goes with her. With a sigh, Emet-Selch looks up when directed.
--It's unmistakable. How many years had he spent looking up at that particular vision? How many years had he spent without it, longing for its return? And now, knowing that he'd never see it again....]
...How unnecessary of him.
[Because there was only one person who could've done this. The only person who knew Amaurot well enough to do so, and the only one who would bother to leave such a gratuitous record.
He didn't know what to think; apart from sudden distress, he didn't know what he felt either. How could he even begin to sort through it all- and to hit so suddenly, with no prior expectations.... There was offense, that Hythlodaeus would leave something so personal where anyone could see it (no one else had a right to that sky), comfort at the memories it invoked, but immeasurable grief at their loss.
--Sorrow primarily, perhaps. Still holding onto Irhya's hand, Emet-Selch finds himself digging into it without realizing. Still staring upward, lost in his own thoughts.]
--I never told him, you know. Of all that would happen to us.
[He's not sure if he regrets it or not. If he hadn't known that Hythlodaeus was one of those who had only arrived here for a short time, he thinks he would've had to. His friend would've eventually gotten it out of him.
But there hadn't been time. A month was nothing; and yet, he still wondered if he'd wasted it.]
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[And whether he could accept her. Her help, her presence. Herself.]
As for what to watch: there can't be too many offerings at this early date, so I'd hate to rule anything out.
[Theatre was just legalized, how many shows have had a chance to form and practice?]
Nothing too banal, whatever the subject. Have you any preference?
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Your idea of banal is probably similar to mine, thinking about it. If it doesn't stimulate you at least a little mentally, it's kinda useless, right? That in mind, I think I can pick something out that'll please both of us. (・ω<)
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[He has no idea what those symbols at the end denote... so he assumes it's just some sort of typo.]
later...
I've got a play picked out now!! (*・∀-)☆
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...And I think some part of your last messages hasn't sent properly, they both conclude with some unintelligible characters.
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Anyway, I'm outside one of the reopened theaters in the Entertainment District. I wanted to ask about the shows, so I just came here in person. It's the big one that hosted a lot of the orchestral performances until recently.
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Across all of my years, I've yet to come across a face that looks anything like that.
Regardless. I believe I know the one you mean. I shall be there shortly.
[Getting ready doesn't take that long, and when he can teleport to the general area... yes, he doesn't leave Irhya waiting that long, despite his unhurried pace. Lazily scanning the crowds, he doesn't spot her immediately.]
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So, instead of him approaching her, she finds him after a bit of glancing about, tipping the hood back a little bit to smile even if not lowering it entirely.]
Hey.
[And here she was almost, almost expecting him to walk it just to keep her waiting, if not for the fact that it'd be more effort than just teleporting in the first place. And the less effort for him, the better.]
Thank you for coming out. I put a lot of thought into this, so I'm hoping it goes over well... I was very careful about avoiding certain themes. And we could go for dinner afterward too, if you're willing.
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It's true that he could've kept her waiting. Even with a teleport involved, the Ascian could've lazed away back at the house for a time before moving. But, if he was going out to see her, then he was going out to see her; while he was certainly petty enough to make Irhya wait for him... it was something he decided not to indulge. If she was putting forth an effort, he may as well try to match her for it.
That, and he didn't know when the show actually started, and the Ascian was curious as to what Irhya had picked out for them. Her comment gets an idle hum and an amused look.]
What themes are we attempting to avoid? But while I'm here, I suppose we might as well make an evening of it.
[How gracious, to accept being taken to dinner....]
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[In other words, mortality, war, and other such things that will likely cause an argument, or some raw feelings at the very least. She glances at one of the advertisement posters.]
At least based on the summary, the people in this particular play are already dead. I guess it's about three damned people stuck in a room together, awaiting judgment. It sounded interesting enough without delving too deeply into those existential questions that would ultimately seem very... mortal to you.
[She really had to put some thought into it, though; the other choices seemed to be lighthearted comedy, which she wasn't keen on, and some other things that definitely would not have impressed him in the slightest.
It occurs to her, thinking of the former, that she's never quite seen him laugh before. It's almost difficult to picture.]
...If that sounds all right. If not, I don't mind picking something else.
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[A thoughtful sound, though he can (if slightly grudgingly) appreciate Irhya's attempts to both take his interests (and disinterests) into account. And while he considered being miffed at the possible implication that he wouldn't be able to handle a show that touched on the complications of mortality... that very inclination probably meant Irhya's instincts were right.
So he acquiesces with a brief nod.]
And a performance surrounding death avoids this...? But very well.
[The premise sounded simple enough, but not uninteresting, and as with all shows, it was a matter of seeing whether the writing and acting was of sufficient quality to hold it together.]
So when does it start? I assume shortly, as you called me out here.
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[She waves a hand, quietly hoping he doesn't pick up on the thin layer of anxiety beneath her actions. Removing two tickets from an inside pocket, she fans them out and grins.]
In about half a bell. They should be selling snacks in the meantime, though! I could go for a few of those cake rolls.
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[The one benefit to a lack of Bond, is that it made it that much harder for him to pick up on things like anxiety. It didn't occur to him that there would be any reason for it- so why would she be nervous?
If anything, he's amused at the confidence over having already purchased the tickets, assuming both that he'd turn up, and that he'd find her choice of show acceptable. And, well, since her intuition was correct, it was a presumption he could view positively.
At her mention of snacks, he gestures vaguely in the direction that they're being sold in as an acquiescence, as they walk over there.]
I've wondered about that, actually... how does normal food affect you?
[Is it safe for vampires to eat things like that...?]
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[She's not run into problems yet, at least, but she'll cross that bridge if it comes. Fortunately, he seems to be willing to play along with her today, so hopefully the actual play itself doesn't put him in a sour mood. She just hopes Solus's love of theatre was genuine and not another part of the emperor act.
She comes away from the refreshments with a stack of the aforementioned cake rolls, individually wrapped. Leading him to their seats -- an aisle seat for her, chosen on purpose so that she doesn't have to strain over taller heads to see what's going on -- she extends one to him.]
I've no idea how much of a sweet tooth you have, but... want one?
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[But interesting, that a technically-dead entity could still consume things, even if Irhya couldn't get nourishment from it.
At least his appreciation for theatre was more than just pretense. Sure, he allowed- even obliquely encouraged- radical or even politically-critical productions because of the destabilizing effect it would have on Garlemald, but that was more a pleasant coincidence. A practical effort that he could take some kind of diversion from.
Though he does look askance at Irhya's offering for a moment, in the end he shrugs, taking her proffered gift.]
They're not my preferred flavor, but since you're offering.
[Free food is free food, and it was a polite gesture.]
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[A sly grin. Even so, she looks pleased enough at his acceptance, plopping down in the seat after letting him through. The dull din of people murmuring amongst themselves dies down as the lights dim, and the show starts.
Fortunately for the people backstage, it appears to be a show with a single setting, which means they were able to go all out in making it look lavish; couches, the statue above the fireplace, everything that would make any other play's stage hands groan for having to move it so frequently. At first, the three people led into the room are in denial; the man claims he was executed for being a pacifist, while one of the women thinks there has been some mistake. But the other woman is quick to deduce that none of this has been left to chance, from the furniture to the three specific people present in the room.
Finally, they confess. One died from being executed by firing squad. One died of pneumonia, half-conscious. One died in her sleep, suffocated by a leaky gas stove. And, the woman Inez is quick to point out, they're here to make one another suffer.
Irhya scoffs.]
Mmm... rather quick to get to the point, isn't she?
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He does look askance at Irhya at her comment (fortunately she's sitting on the side of his good eye, so he can sideeye her and actually see her). But he does spare a reply, given in an undertone.]
Some have a low toleration for liars.
[The three were all clearly terrible people- a fine example of mortals- and he could grudgingly appreciate that no matter how two of the characters might have protested, that there was no denying it in the end. There was no narrative justification or absolution for their crimes. And how appropriate, that three such people should be trapped together in death, the only company they deserved.]
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Once they're outside the theater, she stretches and yawns.]
Shorter than I thought, but what did you think? Enough to provoke thought for at least a few waking hours, I hope?
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You could say it didn't overstay its welcome.
[It was still daylight, even, when they exit the theater, his eyes blinking as they adjust to the comparatively brighter outside.]
It wasn't terrible. I've seen far worse. I'd even claim that its length is to its credit... when you can accomplish what you set out to in a short piece, extending it for the sake of it does you no favors.
[That all probably counted as some sort of praise. He's still mulling it over, at least, rather than immediately discounting the event.]
And what did you make of it? Not too disappointed with your choice, I hope.
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Well, that sounds pretty positive coming from you.
[Though perhaps he has a point there. As long as the length didn't put him off, then it seems everything went according to plan. She can kind of get behind the author's worldview, too; the idea of the human experience being defined by what the individual chooses it to be. To some extent, at least.]
It met my expectations. I'd call it quite clever, actually, to take such a seemingly silly scenario like "three people trapped in a room after death" and inject the kinds of questions into it that it did. And with such brevity, too.
[Once she's no longer at risk for being blinded by the sun, she emerges again like a turtle coming out of its shell, just with the protective hood still up. The sun is not as high now, but no less powerful than before.]
So! Dinner? Are you hungry?
[Looking at him expectantly. If he's not, then she definitely is, though it's something she'll have to approach a little more tactfully than just blurting it out at the table... right?]
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[Not that he'd gone into it with particularly high expectations, but he always left room for disappointment. Even what he considered to be modest standards were frequently not met.]
And I suppose I could eat, if you haven't changed your mind about offering.
[He's actually thinking of Irhya's own dietary requirements at the mention of dinner. And while Emet-Selch is certainly selfish enough to not give much of a damn as a default, he is trying to be on better terms with her.]
But what of you? 'Tis not as though your recent snack did much for your own condition.
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[She brings a finger to her lips, thinking about it. It also wasn't the point of the outing, so a part of her wants to just say she's fine and let the opportunity go. And yet... he was willing to still put himself out there for that, so she ought to at least prove his trust isn't misplaced, feeble a thing though it is right now.]
I don't mind letting you eat first, though. Then perhaps we can return home and see to that, if you're still willing.
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[Hopefully she won't mind a stupid amount of bruising and bite marks around his throat; pucas are not as tidy feeders as vampires.
But he punctuates it with a faint shrug, as though to indicate that it wasn't a big deal. That there was nothing wrong with being hungry, and nothing unusual in using him as a source of food. While things weren't normal and Emet-Selch wasn't about to pretend as such... treating something like this like it was something to make a big production of concern over wouldn't help anything at all.
And it was fair, feeding each other, one way or another.]
So, where are you taking me?
the Hyth player just reminded me of something important asjfkdhsakfj
Irhya stops in her tracks, whips around, and scans the theater's sign.]
Wait a second. Wasn't this the place where...?
[Shite. It is, isn't it? Abruptly, she pulls Hades by the hand and heads back towards the theater, powering her way past the ushers with a quick "Forgot something, sorry!"
It's only once she gets back to the now-clear aisle that she explains herself.]
Sod me, I almost forgot to tell you... Look up.
[She gestures at the ceiling. On it, someone has done a meticulous job of painting Amaurot's night sky.]
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So he goes with her. With a sigh, Emet-Selch looks up when directed.
--It's unmistakable. How many years had he spent looking up at that particular vision? How many years had he spent without it, longing for its return? And now, knowing that he'd never see it again....]
...How unnecessary of him.
[Because there was only one person who could've done this. The only person who knew Amaurot well enough to do so, and the only one who would bother to leave such a gratuitous record.
He didn't know what to think; apart from sudden distress, he didn't know what he felt either. How could he even begin to sort through it all- and to hit so suddenly, with no prior expectations.... There was offense, that Hythlodaeus would leave something so personal where anyone could see it (no one else had a right to that sky), comfort at the memories it invoked, but immeasurable grief at their loss.
--Sorrow primarily, perhaps. Still holding onto Irhya's hand, Emet-Selch finds himself digging into it without realizing. Still staring upward, lost in his own thoughts.]
--I never told him, you know. Of all that would happen to us.
[He's not sure if he regrets it or not. If he hadn't known that Hythlodaeus was one of those who had only arrived here for a short time, he thinks he would've had to. His friend would've eventually gotten it out of him.
But there hadn't been time. A month was nothing; and yet, he still wondered if he'd wasted it.]
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