taair smiles a little to himself at that, despite himself. he's glad, too - the bonds he's made here so far have left an indescribable impact, especially on someone who was described in a word on his profile as simply lonely. ]
I... until I arrived here, I did not have much experience with such personal moments of loss. I have been lucky, at least in that regard.
I lost my parents, but I don't truly remember their faces, or even what it felt like to lose them. And then, to come here... and week after week, to lose people so close - and when I disappeared, last week, to lose all of those people in that adventure, too... it is a heavy, heavy weight.
[ yves listens, and—it's different for him. he remembers every loss so distinctly, every single one that he's experience since he was young. it is a marvel to him that others have never mourned and yet... he is both glad and worried for them.
Before I came here - when the loneliness in my life got too heavy to bear, I used to do things just like this.
[ the story is told in his usual soft tone, a little smile on his face - the melancholy seeps in through his words, but he tells it with nostalgia. he tips his head in the direction of the roof where they're sitting. ]
I'd climb out of my window in the dead of the night, out of the roof, and I'd stare out at the horizon for hours. There was no ocean to look at, but there were hills, and fields beyond the palace walls. And... I'd dream I was a bird.
I'd dream that I could fly as far as I wanted- I'd soar away, as far as I could. Past the walls, past the city gates, past the green hills of the Papal States, until I reached Iria. And then, I'd fly even further, until I could see the convallaria fields in bloom, and follow the sprawl of the clear waters of the Iria River, and the snowy peaks of the Vlder Mountains.
And once I finally was tired of flying, I'd land, and I'd meet people. Those people would become my friends, and we would travel all over the continent - as far as we could, all together, having grand adventures and exploring from sea to sea by day. And at night, we'd light a campfire, and sit around it and share stories. Drinks. Songs. Food. Laughter.
[ ... ]
It's a simple dream, isn't it? To most people, it might even seem ridiculous. But it helped me, in my worst moments. And now... here, I've gotten to do so many of those things - I've achieved much of that dream, but I still find myself climbing up these roofs.
I suppose when we dream, we don't really think of the bad things that can happen. I never daydreamed that my companions would die.
[ yves listens quietly with the same attention that he listens to any of taair's stories. it sounds familiar to him, in certain ways. to long for something that you never thought you'd be able to find—and then discovering it here, with a million different caveats and ways in which that it's still imperfect. ]
... I think that'd stop being a dream, and start being more of a nightmare. No one can blame you for wanting a blissful life filled with friendship and laughter, but... it's also hard to be prepared for days in which the laughter pauses. Or the friendship ruptures for one reason or another.
[ a little sigh, one of understanding. there is an ache in yves's own words ]
There's nothing ridiculous about it, Taair. I'm just sorry that reality had to hit you so hard, so early into your new journey.
[ soft and genuine - he turns a little to look at yves when he says it, and he does smile. ]
You would think... well. Rodinia is at war, and it is all that I study. It is all that our continent has ever known. Suffering, loss, and pain. I suppose... in some senses, it is just another experience in life I must have.
[ and... something he must learn, for his future. for rodinia, for the fate that awaits him when he leaves this place. ]
I know you've been through great loss, too. [ adolphe last week was just the very tip of that - he's learned enough about the island through yves, adolphe and lucas that he has the faintest idea. ] And...
There is one constant across both dreams and reality, here, and it is that we do not have to suffer these burdens alone. [ there's a small smile. ] So... thank you, Yves, for... coming to keep me company. And listening to my woes. I appreciate it more than you could ever know.
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taair smiles a little to himself at that, despite himself. he's glad, too - the bonds he's made here so far have left an indescribable impact, especially on someone who was described in a word on his profile as simply lonely. ]
I... until I arrived here, I did not have much experience with such personal moments of loss. I have been lucky, at least in that regard.
I lost my parents, but I don't truly remember their faces, or even what it felt like to lose them. And then, to come here... and week after week, to lose people so close - and when I disappeared, last week, to lose all of those people in that adventure, too... it is a heavy, heavy weight.
[ his gaze drifts back out to the sea. ]
...Have I ever told you of my dream, Yves?
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for taair. ]
I'm not sure you have. What is it?
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[ the story is told in his usual soft tone, a little smile on his face - the melancholy seeps in through his words, but he tells it with nostalgia. he tips his head in the direction of the roof where they're sitting. ]
I'd climb out of my window in the dead of the night, out of the roof, and I'd stare out at the horizon for hours. There was no ocean to look at, but there were hills, and fields beyond the palace walls. And... I'd dream I was a bird.
I'd dream that I could fly as far as I wanted- I'd soar away, as far as I could. Past the walls, past the city gates, past the green hills of the Papal States, until I reached Iria. And then, I'd fly even further, until I could see the convallaria fields in bloom, and follow the sprawl of the clear waters of the Iria River, and the snowy peaks of the Vlder Mountains.
And once I finally was tired of flying, I'd land, and I'd meet people. Those people would become my friends, and we would travel all over the continent - as far as we could, all together, having grand adventures and exploring from sea to sea by day. And at night, we'd light a campfire, and sit around it and share stories. Drinks. Songs. Food. Laughter.
[ ... ]
It's a simple dream, isn't it? To most people, it might even seem ridiculous. But it helped me, in my worst moments. And now... here, I've gotten to do so many of those things - I've achieved much of that dream, but I still find myself climbing up these roofs.
I suppose when we dream, we don't really think of the bad things that can happen. I never daydreamed that my companions would die.
no subject
... I think that'd stop being a dream, and start being more of a nightmare. No one can blame you for wanting a blissful life filled with friendship and laughter, but... it's also hard to be prepared for days in which the laughter pauses. Or the friendship ruptures for one reason or another.
[ a little sigh, one of understanding. there is an ache in yves's own words ]
There's nothing ridiculous about it, Taair. I'm just sorry that reality had to hit you so hard, so early into your new journey.
no subject
[ soft and genuine - he turns a little to look at yves when he says it, and he does smile. ]
You would think... well. Rodinia is at war, and it is all that I study. It is all that our continent has ever known. Suffering, loss, and pain. I suppose... in some senses, it is just another experience in life I must have.
[ and... something he must learn, for his future. for rodinia, for the fate that awaits him when he leaves this place. ]
I know you've been through great loss, too. [ adolphe last week was just the very tip of that - he's learned enough about the island through yves, adolphe and lucas that he has the faintest idea. ] And...
There is one constant across both dreams and reality, here, and it is that we do not have to suffer these burdens alone. [ there's a small smile. ] So... thank you, Yves, for... coming to keep me company. And listening to my woes. I appreciate it more than you could ever know.