...You already seem like such an accomplished man, Diluc.
[ he's so diligent. but he knows that isn't really enough to fill in a loss so great and vast. ]
I find tragedy does act as a sort of beacon. It reminds us of something very important—the sort of person we need to become, in honor or another person. [ so there is moving beyond death. even so, his smile is sympathetic, not happy. ] It doesn't make it any easier, though.
[ he smiles up a little at him, looking far too tired for his 20-something years of age. but he'll accept his words as high praise, considering sidon has already outlived him by over a century. ]
Thank you for your kind words, Sidon. It's... difficult not to begrudge the past.
[ but i wonder what sort of person i would've become, had my father not died. i wonder if i would've kept living in a web of lies, none the wiser. ]
...For all the pain it's brought, I don't know if I could change things even if I wanted to. And perhaps that's what feels most helpless about the situation.
[ there's a quiet pang of muddied emotion here. (he would be a happier person, but at the same time he doesn't need to be—not at the cost of clarity.) ]
[ humans have to learn to adjust to life's struggles so quickly, and then they die. sidon is a young man at heart and mind, but he's had more time to adjust to youth than most humans will have to live their entire lifespans.
of course a singular instance would shape so much of their entire path. he turns his hand so that he can gather diluc's up between both his palms. ]
Hardship can change us all. Touch the very trajectory of our lives, forever. It is a regretful thing, what happened, yet there is nothing about you to regret.
[ he is also grateful as to who diluc is, even if it took a great amount of pain to get here. the truth here on the eudora is setting them free. it's better to live without that veil of lies. ]
The person you turned out to be is tremendous. Forthright, stalwart, and unwavering. I'm sure your father would be proud.
[ sidon hasn't seen the darker side of diluc's memories—the anger that had festered for years, the trail of ruin he'd left in the wake of his father's passing. perhaps he might change his mind if he knew, but the way he regards diluc now, diluc gets the feeling that wouldn't be the case.
regardless, the emotions he returns are grateful, if perhaps colored with self-consciousness. for a man of his station, he is not unfamiliar with praise and admiration. but this is something much more personal, between friends. he is not someone who desires to be seen, nor does he feel the strong need for recognition (not since then)—but it is meaningful to know he can be vulnerable in moments like these.
his smile softens a bit.
i get the feeling you're speaking from experience. ]
...I hope to live up to those words.
[ sidon's kindness and strength of heart is unmatched—and better spent on someone else. though, diluc will treasure the time and care he is given. he looks to sidon and thinks how fortunate he is—that they all are—to have him with them.
[ being vulnerable isn't his strong suit either, but this place draws it out forcibly sometimes, laying hurt out so plainly for others to see. the most they can do is be respectful when it happens, offering an open hand or a kind word or companionable thoughts. he doesn't answer the one that diluc has besides with a smile. ]
You have! And you will continue to! [ sidon is a Good person, but he has long since abandoned the notion that people here have totally clean histories and emotions. it's okay. what he has to judge is the diluc standing before him today, and he rather likes him a lot. ] I believe in you.
[ which he says and triggers a memory with, woah. the way i have to keep adding people to this filter because i have so few memories. sorry you have to look at aoc content for filler too. here ya go. ]
[ a hundred years is a long time to grieve. and given the nature of zora lifespans, diluc wagers there are hundreds more to go.
he's quiet as the memory fades, left with feelings of separation and loss. a fading warmth like faint wisps of smoke from a candle extinguished. (the legacy and pride of a people. the love of a sister.)
his hand clasps firmly around sidon's. ]
...I believe in you, too.
[ to protect his people in her stead. to give light to the world where she no longer can. if mipha is the moon, then sidon is as the sun, bright and unrelenting. ]
...I'm sorry, Sidon. You've lost something most precious as well.
[ it takes a moment to draw himself properly into the present again—this is a memory he's relived plenty of times, both here and before this, in his own private reminiscing, but it never goes down any smoother.
still. who hasn't lost someone important to them, here? it's unfortunate, how easily everyone can relate. he's pulled out of a daze by diluc's encouragement and firm grip, and smiles. ]
As you said for yourself—it was a long time ago.
[ a little tongue in cheek. ]
I'd been inconsolable at the time, frankly. [ he was a baby, it's fine to admit as much. ] But I've long since been able to talk about my sister with pride and happiness. So it's all right. I'm sorry you had to see the ugliness of my kingdom, if anything.
[ CHEEKY... but deserved. diluc smiles wryly, though he gives his hands a gentle squeeze. ]
No kingdom is perfect, Sidon. But it does not make your home unsightly.
...I'm glad you can think of her with fond remembrance.
[ he thinks the heartache won't ever fully fade, but with time it loses its bite. grief, great or small, can still serve as a bridge to their loved ones. ]
Though it wasn't on purpose, thank you for sharing her memory with me.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
...You already seem like such an accomplished man, Diluc.
[ he's so diligent. but he knows that isn't really enough to fill in a loss so great and vast. ]
I find tragedy does act as a sort of beacon. It reminds us of something very important—the sort of person we need to become, in honor or another person. [ so there is moving beyond death. even so, his smile is sympathetic, not happy. ] It doesn't make it any easier, though.
no subject
[ he smiles up a little at him, looking far too tired for his 20-something years of age. but he'll accept his words as high praise, considering sidon has already outlived him by over a century. ]
Thank you for your kind words, Sidon. It's... difficult not to begrudge the past.
[ but i wonder what sort of person i would've become, had my father not died. i wonder if i would've kept living in a web of lies, none the wiser. ]
...For all the pain it's brought, I don't know if I could change things even if I wanted to. And perhaps that's what feels most helpless about the situation.
[ there's a quiet pang of muddied emotion here. (he would be a happier person, but at the same time he doesn't need to be—not at the cost of clarity.) ]
no subject
of course a singular instance would shape so much of their entire path. he turns his hand so that he can gather diluc's up between both his palms. ]
Hardship can change us all. Touch the very trajectory of our lives, forever. It is a regretful thing, what happened, yet there is nothing about you to regret.
[ he is also grateful as to who diluc is, even if it took a great amount of pain to get here. the truth here on the eudora is setting them free. it's better to live without that veil of lies. ]
The person you turned out to be is tremendous. Forthright, stalwart, and unwavering. I'm sure your father would be proud.
no subject
regardless, the emotions he returns are grateful, if perhaps colored with self-consciousness. for a man of his station, he is not unfamiliar with praise and admiration. but this is something much more personal, between friends. he is not someone who desires to be seen, nor does he feel the strong need for recognition (not since then)—but it is meaningful to know he can be vulnerable in moments like these.
his smile softens a bit.
i get the feeling you're speaking from experience. ]
...I hope to live up to those words.
[ sidon's kindness and strength of heart is unmatched—and better spent on someone else. though, diluc will treasure the time and care he is given. he looks to sidon and thinks how fortunate he is—that they all are—to have him with them.
okay memshare me now >:( ]
no subject
You have! And you will continue to! [ sidon is a Good person, but he has long since abandoned the notion that people here have totally clean histories and emotions. it's okay. what he has to judge is the diluc standing before him today, and he rather likes him a lot. ] I believe in you.
[ which he says and triggers a memory with, woah. the way i have to keep adding people to this filter because i have so few memories. sorry you have to look at aoc content for filler too. here ya go. ]
no subject
he's quiet as the memory fades, left with feelings of separation and loss. a fading warmth like faint wisps of smoke from a candle extinguished. (the legacy and pride of a people. the love of a sister.)
his hand clasps firmly around sidon's. ]
...I believe in you, too.
[ to protect his people in her stead. to give light to the world where she no longer can. if mipha is the moon, then sidon is as the sun, bright and unrelenting. ]
...I'm sorry, Sidon. You've lost something most precious as well.
no subject
still. who hasn't lost someone important to them, here? it's unfortunate, how easily everyone can relate. he's pulled out of a daze by diluc's encouragement and firm grip, and smiles. ]
As you said for yourself—it was a long time ago.
[ a little tongue in cheek. ]
I'd been inconsolable at the time, frankly. [ he was a baby, it's fine to admit as much. ] But I've long since been able to talk about my sister with pride and happiness. So it's all right. I'm sorry you had to see the ugliness of my kingdom, if anything.
no subject
No kingdom is perfect, Sidon. But it does not make your home unsightly.
...I'm glad you can think of her with fond remembrance.
[ he thinks the heartache won't ever fully fade, but with time it loses its bite. grief, great or small, can still serve as a bridge to their loved ones. ]
Though it wasn't on purpose, thank you for sharing her memory with me.