Yes, it's unfortunate, but it's happened here and again... even death does not promise safety.
[ they don't have time or mind to happily reunite with the living on these journeys. ]
But I am healed, yes. Amazing what mere hours can do here! [ he musters a little enthusiasm, though there's still a tired sag in his posture, assuming that diluc is not asking if he is physically rested. ] It's... difficult today. But I'll be all right.
[ correct, diluc is not asking about physical rest... he reaches out to place a hand on sidon's arm, but there's enough rust on his hands the best he can do is tap two fingertips lightly against him. ]
...Don't force yourself.
[ which is hypocritical of him to say because he is insanely bad at receiving comfort, and would rather power through instead. to the point he's actually borrowing someone else's words right now—though the sentiment behind them is sincere. (he wouldn't offer them otherwise.) ]
It's... all right to have moments of frustration and grief.
[ any bit of contact is nice—he's a very physical guy. it's a small gesture, but it reaches him almost more than words do. diluc is obviously not a chatterbox; it is the quietly spoken heart of his sentiments, this effort to reach out in a difficult time, that he appreciates.
he smiles; one of his hands is much less rusted than the other, and he uses it to return the gesture, almost playful. ]
I know. I tell others as much, whenever I see them suffering.
[ he sighs, a tired huff, but not without a wry amusement. ]
Strange then, how difficult it is to remind myself of the same! Maybe it's something we always need to hear from someone else.
[ the light tap on his arm draws a smile from diluc, small but heartfelt. just as sidon understands his reticence, he knows sidon as someone of broad and sweeping action. this quieter gesture stands apart all the more, feels like something personal. ]
...We're very much the same in that regard.
[ better at offering a shoulder than receiving one. ]
I'll gladly remind you any time, Sidon. Though I'll admit I don't care to hear it, myself.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Yes, it's unfortunate, but it's happened here and again... even death does not promise safety.
[ they don't have time or mind to happily reunite with the living on these journeys. ]
But I am healed, yes. Amazing what mere hours can do here! [ he musters a little enthusiasm, though there's still a tired sag in his posture, assuming that diluc is not asking if he is physically rested. ] It's... difficult today. But I'll be all right.
no subject
...Don't force yourself.
[ which is hypocritical of him to say because he is insanely bad at receiving comfort, and would rather power through instead. to the point he's actually borrowing someone else's words right now—though the sentiment behind them is sincere. (he wouldn't offer them otherwise.) ]
It's... all right to have moments of frustration and grief.
no subject
he smiles; one of his hands is much less rusted than the other, and he uses it to return the gesture, almost playful. ]
I know. I tell others as much, whenever I see them suffering.
[ he sighs, a tired huff, but not without a wry amusement. ]
Strange then, how difficult it is to remind myself of the same! Maybe it's something we always need to hear from someone else.
no subject
...We're very much the same in that regard.
[ better at offering a shoulder than receiving one. ]
I'll gladly remind you any time, Sidon. Though I'll admit I don't care to hear it, myself.
[ he huffs, allowing for a little bit of humor. ]