The rap of knuckles on the top of the head, light though it is, succeeds in shocking Elidibus out of his efforts to bring himself back away from the pain and the looming, empty well that once held what defined him. Not just as Elidibus, but as...
Lahabrea will catch sight of the anguished expression before it shifts to some shocked surprise and finally is followed by a bit of slack and widened eyes. Confusion and... just a touch of recognition.
"You," he breathes. "You were the Convocation Speaker then?" He knows Lahabrea is the Speaker now. But somehow, Elidibus had not considered the notion that those fragmented memories applied to the Lahabrea he now looks upon. "I... I remember. You... you used to chide me. You and... and..." A struggle. No, he doesn't remember. "To go outside ...and then you were gone." Not gone. He had likely gone with them. But Elidibus can't remember what happened next. It's obvious through the Bond and the desperate way his eyes dart from side to side in the moment as if looking for something physical which would tell him what happened next.
The idea that he was no longer truly a part of the Convocation as he stood alone so as to steer them. That was truly a fear. It is true time and necessity when they became a Convocation of Three had somewhat warped that message, especially as they found and ascended sundered pieces of the other Convocation members. When he listens to Lahabrea tell him that the very act of being Elidibus was not to stand apart, Elidibus appears and feels dumbstruck.
And before he can open his mouth to refute... before the cold logic returns to bury the emotion, to center himself back to his purpose of now, not what once was. To once again be a void where Lahabrea's fury can simply drop into and fall, fall, fall, the Speaker has continued. Elidibus has loosened his grip, thankfully pulling only a couple of feathers truly loose, before falling back to his lap, clutching the downy tuft. They aren't inclined to open, so it is with his other hand that he receives the cookie. "I enjoy these?"
It's as if the Emissary never considered that buying them regularly- and yes he most certainly has been seen eating the cookies frequently as they rebuilt the second floor- meant he enjoyed them. Or the bean bag or a book. He speaks up as if to deny this, "It is but a convenience this form finds no discomfort from it."
It really is a weak excuse. Why else buy the same cookie or gravitate to the same chair? He doesn't get it, it's obvious through the Bond that he doesn't. And it's tragic.
He closes his eyes. Thoughts are in turmoil, confusion rests in listening to the Speaker's words and seeing him say such things with so much earnestness. He can't close out the subtle sensation of the claws running through his hair ever so lightly and carefully. Nor can he shut out Lahabrea's presence. Not anymore. And he was not able to control the pace of his heart, which seemed to beat in a quick, squeezing manner for a moment. When his eyes open they are downcast as though he were still in thought. Carefully words are murmured one by one.
"I... did speak before, did I not? That we must put aside some habits of eld and stand together." He knew he would have to make such sacrifice, though it would cost him a part of his duty to do it. But dare he be allowed to believe that Lahabrea is right and it is, rather than abandonment, a return to the proper meaning to his office?
Dare Elidibus truly let himself think for one moment that he should risk the happiness, joys, and sorrows of his fellow Ascians while their God remains broken? Perhaps when they finished their long task, he could rejoin Zodiark's heart, taking with him the carefully saved memories- Lahabrea will surely not fail him, yes- so that He would know His people had found small moments for themselves in the long Darkness.
Perhaps...
At least for now, for a night, Elidibus might choose to believe. He certainly can't weigh the matter in this state. But there is a promise he can make, by bringing the ginger snap to his mouth and biting into it. Taking in the taste that had drawn him to buy the cookies several times now and trying to place it with the idea of enjoyment.
"I... need to consider this carefully. Yet I thank you, Lahabrea."
no subject
Lahabrea will catch sight of the anguished expression before it shifts to some shocked surprise and finally is followed by a bit of slack and widened eyes. Confusion and... just a touch of recognition.
"You," he breathes. "You were the Convocation Speaker then?" He knows Lahabrea is the Speaker now. But somehow, Elidibus had not considered the notion that those fragmented memories applied to the Lahabrea he now looks upon. "I... I remember. You... you used to chide me. You and... and..." A struggle. No, he doesn't remember. "To go outside ...and then you were gone." Not gone. He had likely gone with them. But Elidibus can't remember what happened next. It's obvious through the Bond and the desperate way his eyes dart from side to side in the moment as if looking for something physical which would tell him what happened next.
The idea that he was no longer truly a part of the Convocation as he stood alone so as to steer them. That was truly a fear. It is true time and necessity when they became a Convocation of Three had somewhat warped that message, especially as they found and ascended sundered pieces of the other Convocation members. When he listens to Lahabrea tell him that the very act of being Elidibus was not to stand apart, Elidibus appears and feels dumbstruck.
And before he can open his mouth to refute... before the cold logic returns
to bury the emotion, to center himself back to his purpose of now, not what once was. To once again be a void where Lahabrea's fury can simply drop into and fall, fall, fall, the Speaker has continued. Elidibus has loosened his grip, thankfully pulling only a couple of feathers truly loose, before falling back to his lap, clutching the downy tuft. They aren't inclined to open, so it is with his other hand that he receives the cookie. "I enjoy these?"It's as if the Emissary never considered that buying them regularly- and yes he most certainly has been seen eating the cookies frequently as they rebuilt the second floor- meant he enjoyed them. Or the bean bag or a book. He speaks up as if to deny this, "It is but a convenience this form finds no discomfort from it."
It really is a weak excuse. Why else buy the same cookie or gravitate to the same chair? He doesn't get it, it's obvious through the Bond that he doesn't. And it's tragic.
He closes his eyes. Thoughts are in turmoil, confusion rests in listening to the Speaker's words and seeing him say such things with so much earnestness. He can't close out the subtle sensation of the claws running through his hair ever so lightly and carefully. Nor can he shut out Lahabrea's presence. Not anymore. And he was not able to control the pace of his heart, which seemed to beat in a quick, squeezing manner for a moment. When his eyes open they are downcast as though he were still in thought. Carefully words are murmured one by one.
"I... did speak before, did I not? That we must put aside some habits of eld and stand together." He knew he would have to make such sacrifice, though it would cost him a part of his duty to do it. But dare he be allowed to believe that Lahabrea is right and it is, rather than abandonment, a return to the proper meaning to his office?
Dare Elidibus truly let himself think for one moment that he should risk the happiness, joys, and sorrows of his fellow Ascians while their God remains broken? Perhaps when they finished their long task, he could rejoin Zodiark's heart, taking with him the carefully saved memories- Lahabrea will surely not fail him, yes- so that He would know His people had found small moments for themselves in the long Darkness.
Perhaps...
At least for now, for a night, Elidibus might choose to believe. He certainly can't weigh the matter in this state. But there is a promise he can make, by bringing the ginger snap to his mouth and biting into it. Taking in the taste that had drawn him to buy the cookies several times now and trying to place it with the idea of enjoyment.
"I... need to consider this carefully. Yet I thank you, Lahabrea."