That's right- you do have one other characteristic.
[Emet-Selch essentially had two moods. Depressed, and angry. The unhappiness was always there; it was only a matter of how much of the other was layered on top of it. Normally it didn't surpass 'irritated', however--]
How could I forget your unparalleled arrogance. You would see me dead across every world, rather than allow even a single one be returned to the people who gave their lives to save it.
[It's hissed out, gone from grief to fury in a matter of moments. Dragging himself to his feet, his stare as he looks down at them is absolute venom.]
Blithely you continue on, so certain in your right to pass judgement on a star you'll never remember. How kindly you'll accept even an Ascian in your midst, now that he's toothless and defeated. How calmly you play at domestic life with someone you would see murdered a thousand times over.
[Yet if anything is coming through over their tether, it's hurt rather than anger. The lashing out of a trapped animal.]
...How careless of me to believe that even a single thing I've said ever mattered to you.
[Irhya's default reaction to conflict is not to back away, unfortunately. It is and ever has been to answer it head-on. She is just as quick to jump to her feet, though the knee-jerk emotion that pulses through her isn't the same type of fiery fury; it's all racing heart and cold adrenaline, as if he were actually threatening her with violence.]
Does it make you feel better to think we fancy ourselves guilt-free in all this? No matter how many times we have to hand down judgments like this, it never gets any easier! One life for one world is still too many, and yet--!
[She has to restrain the urge to throw one of those yarn balls at him. Despair creeps up inside her like bile, and she digs her nails into the couch's arm just to keep her hands from doing anything regretful. All the same, she straightens herself up as high as she can to meet his gaze, undaunted.]
I like you well enough. You're clever and sharp and steadfastly loyal, and I respect all that. But don't even start trying to tell me what does and doesn't matter to me, or the reasons I accepted you here and now!
Look. You're grieving. Understandably so. But don't take it out on us when there's no guarantee our compliance would even change anything upon your return!
[Her first instinct is to proclaim how wrong the thought is but it's when she feels the hurt through their bond that Mira pauses and thinks. She can't think like that or lash out otherwise, it'll just be worse between the three of them. No, the woman has to listen and choose her words carefully. Slowly, she stands and looks at Emet-Selch straight in his eyes, without a single doubt of fear.]
I have always seen myself as a sinner, will not proclaim better than anyone else. Nor will I ever speak of having no guilt for the actions I have done; 'tis something that is best owned rather than forgotten or so in my opinion.
[Her voice is calm, putting a hand over her heart, trying to keep herself steady just in case another wave of emotion comes crashing down but trying to hold her own at bay. All the pain and despair, the worry and sorrow that is not needed right now. Not when the tension is high and rightfully so.]
If you consider yourself toothless, then why are you showing us the opposite? Instead of running away, why do you stand your ground? If anything, you simply are not the kind of man who lies down like a dog at the heels of his master. Nay, you're bloody brilliant when you wish to be and damned determined to accomplish a goal no matter what it costs to you.
[It's kind of funny how they're similar in that aspect.]
But listen to me when I say this: you have every right to be angry. Every right to grieve, I will not take that away from you. But we do not know what would happen if we were to comply. This world's laws seem to be different from our own and we cannot assume that it will work as such.
[If there is a emotion that Mira has unknowingly linked through both Bonds, it's determination. That feeling of not yielding...and yet not smothering. That's how she feels.]
[Every word was a drip of oil into an already smouldering fire. It didn't matter how impassioned, how reasonable they both were; his mind worked automatically to twist their sentiments into cruelties, their compliments into mockeries. To hear only what he expected, what would justify his response.
The small awareness of they don't deserve this was drowned out in a chorus of pain. It didn't matter that this display would accomplish nothing useful. There was only to hurt, and to be hurt. Even if there was no satisfaction to be had; this was how he'd ever been.]
Oh, is this another one of your mercies? This pretension of understanding?
[The fury hasn't shifted, but it's joined by a flash of scorn.]
Do you think I'm not aware that my chances may as well be imperceptible? So minuscule as to be meaningless? But yet that's not good enough for you- you would take even that small hope from me, just as you've taken all else.
[Gesturing sharply, tension was written in every line of his body. Holding onto this anger was the same as holding himself together; if he let go of it, he'd have to face worse things, like fear and the guilt of his own failures.]
And if, against every shred of reason, some means existed that might- might carry some possibility of change for me- you would drown it. You would hide it, destroy it, unable to face even the chance that in one, lone version of our world, things don't work out exactly as you would will it.
[Soon enough the Ascian would probably try to leave; the lone defense he had that wasn't entirely destructive. But not so soon to avoid the bitterness he throws at them, for the sake of spite and nothing more.]
But I'm being inconsiderate, aren't I? Not appreciating the trouble you're going through, being disrespected by a walking corpse. How I shall weep for the guilt that dares to disturb your blameless rest.
[Pointless. He's too distraught to even think of listening to them right now, and it's only beginning to look like one of her arguments with her mother, something for which she does not have the physical or emotional energy. Irhya grimaces and looks away, dropping back down onto the couch and leaning heavily into her yarn.]
...Fine. Just let it go, Mira. It's too fresh to do anything about right now.
[In hindsight, she wonders if maybe he would have been happier not knowing at all. Was it worth telling him the truth? Would he not have been hurt and distrustful either way? To what extent?]
You can yell and scream until your throat is raw if it pleases you, then. I don't care anymore.
[This is going nowhere. She can talk until she's blue in the face and no one would budge. By this time, the gaelkitten has heard the commotion and scampers away into another room and Mira simply sighs in frustration.]
Very well.
[Perhaps they were wrong in speaking up this time, should have played the fool when seeing that small piece of crystal. But would it have been worse if she hid it? A lose-lose situation. Instead, she sits back down, gripping her pants leg.]
I still meant every word spoken.
[Quietly spoken and that's all she'll say. It's no consolation but it beats screaming and things being thrown around.]
[Intense frustration joined the heady mess of emotions already running through him. Frustration, and a just as intense feeling of insult, of being condescended to. As though his grievances could be brushed aside at their convenience, that it truly meant so little that they would shrug and give up at the first sign of criticism.
It was as though they expected he would come to his senses so long as they ignored him, that everything would return to that caricature of peace. But he knew the condition to this travesty of acceptance, that it was based solely on the certainty of his death. Not only on their own star, but on all of them. An impassive, indifferent judgement, that they weren't even willing to defend, that they simply expected him to agree to.
That they had only recognized the futility of the argument wasn't something that he could consider.
The futility was the point.]
'Anymore'? Come now, we both know that's a lie. [A pause, as Emet-Selch leans over to pick up that outwardly broken part of himself, then looks back to Irhya.] Wouldn't that mean you cared in the first place?
And you. [As his attention turns to Mira, all of the hurt is still there, but twisted into a sightly different shape. And though he hesitates, in the end, he only makes a dismissive, half-disgusted sound, shaking his head.] ...Nevermind. I hope you're satisfied.
[Without looking back to either of them, he stalks off from both the room, and the house entirely.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
I can list a few more if it helps.
[Stubborn, moronic, loving, helpful, is there truly a need to list them all because she's pretty sure it's a damn long one.]
Alas, there is no way around it. In an ideal setting, there would be no lives lost...but we do not have that luxury afforded to us.
[It's a hard pill to swallow for sure. Mira's folding her arms as she speaks but she too does not feel any happiness as she speaks.]
no subject
[Emet-Selch essentially had two moods. Depressed, and angry. The unhappiness was always there; it was only a matter of how much of the other was layered on top of it. Normally it didn't surpass 'irritated', however--]
How could I forget your unparalleled arrogance. You would see me dead across every world, rather than allow even a single one be returned to the people who gave their lives to save it.
[It's hissed out, gone from grief to fury in a matter of moments. Dragging himself to his feet, his stare as he looks down at them is absolute venom.]
Blithely you continue on, so certain in your right to pass judgement on a star you'll never remember. How kindly you'll accept even an Ascian in your midst, now that he's toothless and defeated. How calmly you play at domestic life with someone you would see murdered a thousand times over.
[Yet if anything is coming through over their tether, it's hurt rather than anger. The lashing out of a trapped animal.]
...How careless of me to believe that even a single thing I've said ever mattered to you.
no subject
[Irhya's default reaction to conflict is not to back away, unfortunately. It is and ever has been to answer it head-on. She is just as quick to jump to her feet, though the knee-jerk emotion that pulses through her isn't the same type of fiery fury; it's all racing heart and cold adrenaline, as if he were actually threatening her with violence.]
Does it make you feel better to think we fancy ourselves guilt-free in all this? No matter how many times we have to hand down judgments like this, it never gets any easier! One life for one world is still too many, and yet--!
[She has to restrain the urge to throw one of those yarn balls at him. Despair creeps up inside her like bile, and she digs her nails into the couch's arm just to keep her hands from doing anything regretful. All the same, she straightens herself up as high as she can to meet his gaze, undaunted.]
I like you well enough. You're clever and sharp and steadfastly loyal, and I respect all that. But don't even start trying to tell me what does and doesn't matter to me, or the reasons I accepted you here and now!
Look. You're grieving. Understandably so. But don't take it out on us when there's no guarantee our compliance would even change anything upon your return!
no subject
I have always seen myself as a sinner, will not proclaim better than anyone else. Nor will I ever speak of having no guilt for the actions I have done; 'tis something that is best owned rather than forgotten or so in my opinion.
[Her voice is calm, putting a hand over her heart, trying to keep herself steady just in case another wave of emotion comes crashing down but trying to hold her own at bay. All the pain and despair, the worry and sorrow that is not needed right now. Not when the tension is high and rightfully so.]
If you consider yourself toothless, then why are you showing us the opposite? Instead of running away, why do you stand your ground? If anything, you simply are not the kind of man who lies down like a dog at the heels of his master. Nay, you're bloody brilliant when you wish to be and damned determined to accomplish a goal no matter what it costs to you.
[It's kind of funny how they're similar in that aspect.]
But listen to me when I say this: you have every right to be angry. Every right to grieve, I will not take that away from you. But we do not know what would happen if we were to comply. This world's laws seem to be different from our own and we cannot assume that it will work as such.
[If there is a emotion that Mira has unknowingly linked through both Bonds, it's determination. That feeling of not yielding...and yet not smothering. That's how she feels.]
no subject
The small awareness of they don't deserve this was drowned out in a chorus of pain. It didn't matter that this display would accomplish nothing useful. There was only to hurt, and to be hurt. Even if there was no satisfaction to be had; this was how he'd ever been.]
Oh, is this another one of your mercies? This pretension of understanding?
[The fury hasn't shifted, but it's joined by a flash of scorn.]
Do you think I'm not aware that my chances may as well be imperceptible? So minuscule as to be meaningless? But yet that's not good enough for you- you would take even that small hope from me, just as you've taken all else.
[Gesturing sharply, tension was written in every line of his body. Holding onto this anger was the same as holding himself together; if he let go of it, he'd have to face worse things, like fear and the guilt of his own failures.]
And if, against every shred of reason, some means existed that might- might carry some possibility of change for me- you would drown it. You would hide it, destroy it, unable to face even the chance that in one, lone version of our world, things don't work out exactly as you would will it.
[Soon enough the Ascian would probably try to leave; the lone defense he had that wasn't entirely destructive. But not so soon to avoid the bitterness he throws at them, for the sake of spite and nothing more.]
But I'm being inconsiderate, aren't I? Not appreciating the trouble you're going through, being disrespected by a walking corpse. How I shall weep for the guilt that dares to disturb your blameless rest.
no subject
...Fine. Just let it go, Mira. It's too fresh to do anything about right now.
[In hindsight, she wonders if maybe he would have been happier not knowing at all. Was it worth telling him the truth? Would he not have been hurt and distrustful either way? To what extent?]
You can yell and scream until your throat is raw if it pleases you, then. I don't care anymore.
no subject
Very well.
[Perhaps they were wrong in speaking up this time, should have played the fool when seeing that small piece of crystal. But would it have been worse if she hid it? A lose-lose situation. Instead, she sits back down, gripping her pants leg.]
I still meant every word spoken.
[Quietly spoken and that's all she'll say. It's no consolation but it beats screaming and things being thrown around.]
no subject
It was as though they expected he would come to his senses so long as they ignored him, that everything would return to that caricature of peace. But he knew the condition to this travesty of acceptance, that it was based solely on the certainty of his death. Not only on their own star, but on all of them. An impassive, indifferent judgement, that they weren't even willing to defend, that they simply expected him to agree to.
That they had only recognized the futility of the argument wasn't something that he could consider.
The futility was the point.]
'Anymore'? Come now, we both know that's a lie. [A pause, as Emet-Selch leans over to pick up that outwardly broken part of himself, then looks back to Irhya.] Wouldn't that mean you cared in the first place?
And you. [As his attention turns to Mira, all of the hurt is still there, but twisted into a sightly different shape. And though he hesitates, in the end, he only makes a dismissive, half-disgusted sound, shaking his head.] ...Nevermind. I hope you're satisfied.
[Without looking back to either of them, he stalks off from both the room, and the house entirely.]