historicals | pc catchall | turboheaven

... I'd believe you if I didn't feel what you felt.

[ relief. escape. freedom. the idea that you are so trapped in what you know that you are trying to go back to it because of that sense of guilt for the people you feel indebted to. it is what yves feels, but yves hasn't been convinced yet to go back out of duty. not yet, even though he knows he could be.

but that would be guilt guiding his hand. ]

Maybe you can go back to a time before things went so wrong. Or maybe you can enter a different version of yourself's timeline, where your freedom isn't taken from you. [ he's aware that he's starting to sound like the angels ]

Or you can go somewhere else, entirely different, exploring new places with the people who love you and seeing new lands that are just as in need of a historian.

You don't need to be resigned to that life, Taair. They've taken enough from you.

[ he is definitely sounding like the angels because they have given him this very same talk, but it's - hard. it's hard to step over an obstacle for himself, hard to push the cage door open and let himself out. iria is going to suffer. the people who protected him - the leader, princess inanna - they'll suffer, too. it's being trapped between a rock and a hard place, all because he was born into a palace that was destined to burn.

that makes it so hard to leave. taair loves his country. he loves iria more than almost anything, and his lovely little dream of seeing her mountains and rivers is a fantasy, and he knows it. he could record her history forever, but the history he recorded, should he return, would be a miserable era of a downfall that he watched from the sidelines like a coward.

coward, neverah said, you can't even fight for yourself. ]

I'll... take what you're saying into consideration. I will. I promise. [ that much he can do, at least. he finally looks up again, small frown on his face, up at yves and his mask and the face he's come to care for so very much. ] If you can do the same, then...I ought to, too.

... we can figure it out together. [ and he'll reach out to hold onto taair's hand then, hold gentle but firm. like he doesn't want to be shaken off. ] I... left my country in a pretty bad state too but—

[ well. what's better than explaining it? just seeing it.

"I also wanted to fall in love like you did." ]

[ it's... devastating.

that's the only way to describe it. devastating. yves has lost everything - how much it must hurt, to have lost adolphe first thing once again. how many more painful losses is yves expecting? (but then again - when someone's heart is so large, won't they always?) the sight makes his heart hurt, and, reflexively, with each loss, his grip tightens, until he's holding onto yves' hands like a lifeline.

scien's condition - self inflicted as it is - is hard for an empathetic heart to witness, but it's not any excuse to destroy anything, not like that. and he's almost white knuckling as the two reach their conclusion in battle, aching for yves' kind, warm heart even as they're fighting to the death. he can see it coming, when he steps into the knife, but he flinches anyway, and doesn't turn his gaze. it's all yves deserves,for him to see this through to the end the way he saw through taair's, too.

by the time it's over, he's trembling a little, though it's not out of fear. it's just an overwhelming amount of emotions all at once, and he breathes out the gasp he sucked in when he flinches, slowly. ]

Oh, Yves... [ the death of a martyr, he'd thought, at first - and maybe that's true, but there's a similarity between the two of them that echoes like a string freshly plucked. a choice, in death. a choice in contentment. maybe a choice in cowardice, too. he looks up, finally, expression a thousand emotions at once - concern, sorrow, worry. empathy, too. ]

[ sometimes your best friend dies on you and your life slowly goes downhill from there, and then he dies on you again in heaven and hope it's not a repeat. but—he doesn't mind when taair grips onto his hands. yves watches too, as if letting himself remember the ache of it all, and only at the end does he let his thumbs run over the back of taair's hands to try to ease the trembling.

the emotion from it is... sweet. yves wishes he felt that much over it. instead there's just a vague feeling of guilt. ]

... I'm sorry you had to see that but... I hope you believe me when I say I understand.

[ that sometimes you feel like you have a responsibility to go back, even though you know you will literally be waltzing back into everything you love in ruins ]

It's been hard to admit... but I've started being able to tell people I... don't want to go back to that. I think I could do it, if I really force myself because I know there's more I could do but... [ softly ] it hurts.

[ the simplicity of "it hurts" is heartbreaking, and he squeezes his hands gently once more, searching yves' face for... something. the sorrow on his own remains, deeply, deeply empathetic, and he swallows. ]

I know it does. [ that it hurts. and for someone who feels no physical pain, the emotional whammy of it all must be devastating. ] And... I do. Of course I believe you, my friend - I did not doubt you, either way.

[ he thinks once again of the strange not quite yves he met last week, and how awful that felt, to look at a creation of a person, a facsimile of someone who did not want to be reborn. taair can't always see it for himself, but the idea of a single person going through anything close to what he has, what he will, is beyond upsetting. ]

You give and give until you are empty. Even if you can give more, you will scrape from nothingness, and wring yourself dry. I... would never dare to speak for the dead, but... I am sure those you have mourned, and those who love you alike would hate to see your spark smothered.

[ softly: ] I know that I would.

[ . . . he pauses to think about it, and he takes in taair's kind words, and then he'll just lean forward again to gently press their foreheads against each other. just a small, tender little touch. yves can't feel pain but he can still feel this. the care and warmth and concern of others, even though he tries not to be a concerning person.

but he always is one, because those are just the flaws he carries. to give so readily even without taking inventory of how much he has left.

though at the same time he can't help but think— ]

... you offer me such kind words, Taair. But... don't you know that's how I feel about you?

[ to not want to see a bird caged. that terrifying future of a taair that feels nothing, that only drifts in slumber and sadness. ]

[ he allows this gesture, though as ever the closeness sometimes flusters him - in the emotional intensity of this conversation its accepted, though, and his eyes flutter shut despite the pink on his cheeks. deep breath in. deep breath out.

taair listens to yves talk, and... despite it all, despite the awful shackles of both of their situations, he manages a soft smile, a huff of a laugh, and there's fondness that leaks into his voice when he replies. ]

...My friend, it seems we will chase each other around and around with this conversation one thousand times.

[ it's not the first time by any means. "i care about you, but forget about me" - an endless cycle of kind hearts that pour until they're empty. ]

Well. I've been told that stubbornness is one of my best qualities.

[ and at the time, he'd laughed. stubbornness! what a word. but... he is persistent. he is the friend who will badger you for months until you accept him. the person who will try to help with your problems day and night as if they're his own.

but he is also optimistic. ]

... there has to be a version of events where you get everything you want, Taair. Even if it's hard to hope for it.

I know that you love recording history... but I'd love to see the future you create, too.

pc catchall | turboheaven | yves

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