If respecting my wishes or my discomfort ever served as a hurdle for him, little would he and I have become friends. There's almost as much fondness as aggravation behind his expression as he signs that. It's true, ever is Hythlodaeus one to wear a person of interest down, a war of attrition, one that Solus is ever the loser of when it comes to Hythlodaeus.
However, I cannot fully put Steven to blame for this, for ordinarily his words are but wind to me. There is little that anyone can say to me that would affect me in such a way, but... He pauses, thinking about Steven's reaction to him, and idly wonders if it's better to tell tyler about it befor Steven does. He glances at Tyler for a long moment, his mouth pursing into an uncertain and thin line.
For any of this to make sense, I suppose I should explain something about myself. You know I am an Ascian, but you know little what that truly means. I have explained the struggle my reality faces, but little what my personal means to survive is.
We Ascians...to become such, we are relinquished of our flesh, of our bodies. This body before you is not mine--never will it be. I have made it take on my likeness, but in order to interact with the world that has been denied to me and mine, we must use suitable vessels. A regrettable necessity for our continued survival. For our labors under Lord Zodiark.
A fact that Steven did not take kindly to, but I am not surprised nor upset by it. However...Hythlodaeus and I found ourselves in a debate over whether or not these acquired bodies then become my own--they do not--for he was under the misapprehension that our reality works in the same measure it once did, ere the sundering. It does not.
He stops for a moment, looking distracted once again. That grieving expression returning for a moment, before he realizes it's there. Quickly, he pushes it away with an ingratiating, sad smile.
In my time playing the role as a mortal, I have sired two sons. However, Hythlodaeus and Steven are of the opinion that they are indeed my children, but seeing as the body in which served such purpose, and the lie I played in so doing... Again he pauses, his face twisting into something a little pained as he closes his eyes against the sting that threatens to give away his true feelings. His jaw is tight, and the rational part of his brain is telling him to stop here, to not go further. But the inhibitors in his system, and the decades long ignored ache in his chest demands he says this much. As he continues, he does not look the least bit convinced by his words, and the glossiness of his eyes are even more incriminating than he'd care to admit.
I posited that they are my body's children, not mine. My eldest-- he jolts realizing what he signed, and then quickly ammends it as he swallows that lead ball in his throat, the eldest of the pair grew ill, and passed well before his time. Had he been truly my own, such fragility would not be possible...
He knows he's over simplifying this. It's not as if he doesn't know someone can be a parent without true blood relations. He is well aware of this, but his grief and fear of pain has a poor habit of making him greatly simplify it all for his own ability to cope. Hythlodaeus indeed called him out on it. Emet-Selch, father of none, does not have to grieve his dead child. Does not have to live the reality that he loved his mortal son as he did, does not have to acknowledge that his hope that came to life with the birth of that child, likewise died with him...
no subject
However, I cannot fully put Steven to blame for this, for ordinarily his words are but wind to me. There is little that anyone can say to me that would affect me in such a way, but... He pauses, thinking about Steven's reaction to him, and idly wonders if it's better to tell tyler about it befor Steven does. He glances at Tyler for a long moment, his mouth pursing into an uncertain and thin line.
For any of this to make sense, I suppose I should explain something about myself. You know I am an Ascian, but you know little what that truly means. I have explained the struggle my reality faces, but little what my personal means to survive is.
We Ascians...to become such, we are relinquished of our flesh, of our bodies. This body before you is not mine--never will it be. I have made it take on my likeness, but in order to interact with the world that has been denied to me and mine, we must use suitable vessels. A regrettable necessity for our continued survival. For our labors under Lord Zodiark.
A fact that Steven did not take kindly to, but I am not surprised nor upset by it. However...Hythlodaeus and I found ourselves in a debate over whether or not these acquired bodies then become my own--they do not--for he was under the misapprehension that our reality works in the same measure it once did, ere the sundering. It does not.
He stops for a moment, looking distracted once again. That grieving expression returning for a moment, before he realizes it's there. Quickly, he pushes it away with an ingratiating, sad smile.
In my time playing the role as a mortal, I have sired two sons. However, Hythlodaeus and Steven are of the opinion that they are indeed my children, but seeing as the body in which served such purpose, and the lie I played in so doing... Again he pauses, his face twisting into something a little pained as he closes his eyes against the sting that threatens to give away his true feelings. His jaw is tight, and the rational part of his brain is telling him to stop here, to not go further. But the inhibitors in his system, and the decades long ignored ache in his chest demands he says this much. As he continues, he does not look the least bit convinced by his words, and the glossiness of his eyes are even more incriminating than he'd care to admit.
I posited that they are my body's children, not mine. My eldest-- he jolts realizing what he signed, and then quickly ammends it as he swallows that lead ball in his throat, the eldest of the pair grew ill, and passed well before his time. Had he been truly my own, such fragility would not be possible...
He knows he's over simplifying this. It's not as if he doesn't know someone can be a parent without true blood relations. He is well aware of this, but his grief and fear of pain has a poor habit of making him greatly simplify it all for his own ability to cope. Hythlodaeus indeed called him out on it. Emet-Selch, father of none, does not have to grieve his dead child. Does not have to live the reality that he loved his mortal son as he did, does not have to acknowledge that his hope that came to life with the birth of that child, likewise died with him...