being immortal makes time feel strange. ten years feels like a week, sometimes; twenty can even feel like a day. in his time as the raven queen's champion, he has seen worlds change and move, has seen all of his companions but one now through shadowfell, held vex'ahlia's hand again and brought her to percival. he's watched empires rise and fall, live and die. with the ability to move from universe to universe, he's seen it multiplied.
... he's seen what happened to amaurot, too. to their entire society - to hades, who twisted away from the future he was given and not in the way that anyone really expected. who knows how much time has passed since then, really, but vax'ildan felt the loss in a frustratingly upsetting way that he shouldn't have, because death - death is his friend, and this was beyond him, beyond his reach, because it wasn't quite death at all.
and over the years, he's seen how it affected hythlodaeus, too.
sometimes time passes too quickly. sometimes, it'll be ten, twenty, thirty years, but he tries to visit when he can. it's been a particularly long stretch this go around, but as he takes down another archlich claiming the rebirth of vecna in a long, hard fought battle, his queen grants him the favor to check on yet another star.
and so, he does. by now, he's learned to pull on the aether of this place to make himself into a more familiar, human shape in a way he cannot do almost anywhere else. (it was the gravity of the power of the seat of emet selch that allowed vax'ildan this in the first place; what a wondrous, strange thing that had been.) still, ghostlike and unseeing, he moves beyond the skies, beyond the lush lands and kingdoms, down, down, into the ocean. unbreathing, wings extended light through the water like it's nothing, until vax'ildan finds his way to an underwater city that once gleamed on land.
... it's heartbreaking, to know why this stands the way that it does. it's lonely.
he doesn't shift into something tangible until he's in a familiar building. an apartment, one he knew intimately in the years and years that went by - like always, vax is slippery, finds his way in through the cracks and the windows with no trouble, silent as the grave.
and as he alights on the rebuild of an old bedroom, he just holds there for a moment, looking at the back of hythlodaeus, it's hard not to think that for someone so large, with so much presence and light to fill a room - he just looks so small.
... empathetic and heart aching to a fault, vax'ildan stays as he is for the moment. drawing on the aether on his own can only get him so far, anyway - he swoops down quietly from where he was perching, down towards the bed, and delicately lands on the surface. the only sound is a maybe strange rustle of feathers, before he does a little bird hop. once, twice, covering a little ground - and then worms his head underneath where he knows there's an arm across the bed, and starts moving to press up against the figure curled up in it, only then actually announcing his presence with a soft croak. ]
[the raven is a comfort, through all of these years.
he does not remember why this came to happen. he only knows that one day, they woke to the world falling apart, quite literally destroying itself from the inside out. and they could not allow that to happen, their home, their beloved star. but it required a deep sacrifice, and then another, and another.
the seat belongs to you, now, as it always originally had. hades had told him, handing him his mask. his burden to carry, his memory to hold. in an instant, hythlodaeus lost everything dear to him - hades, azem, his city, his home. he and the others, elidibus, lahabrea - they could not watch this world they loved so dearly fall from their grasp.
the apartment is a contained space. hythlodaeus is here, watching creatures of the ocean make their way through amaurot's empty streets. there is air, here. a bubble that allows for hyth to trace his fingers along the sheets of the bed he'd shared with someone gone for millennia.
the bird surprises him, a little. he's not expecting it, and it takes a moment to even remember who or what this is. the half mask of the seat of emet-selch rests on his face - he barely takes it off, these days. he'd refused to, the last time vax had been here. it remains to be seen if he'll refuse again.]
... Ah, Vax'ildan. Is that you? [he asks, soft, allowing for the bird to press up against him. he strokes the bird's head, smoothing back the feathers.] It has been... hm.
[he doesn't remember. time gets hard to keep track of.]
[ the initial response just gets another soft croak, at first - it rumbles loosely, a bird's song carrying the weight of vax'ildan's emotions. his eyes are closed, as he tips his head up into the strokes along the crown of his feathers, nudging against the fingers, butting affectionately into hyth's hand as he comes by. he knows, by now, he needs it, even when he's stuck like this and can't shift shapes.
sometimes visits are moments longer - snatches of a familiar black bird streaking through the sky, or raven feathers in a windowsill, or tucked into hythlodaeus's braid when he's off somewhere existing through life, in and out like a thief. sometimes this is the best he can do, with the destruction of this world and his own tenuous relationship with solidity in his own. but, as he glances up again at hyth, catching onto that mask, vax'ildan decides that today won't be that day.
he makes another caw noise, like an answer, quiet, feathers ruffling, as he focuses. focuses, focuses, puts all of his intent and energy into a familiar shape. (tries to pull on the aether the way hades taught him to, centuries ago; it doesn't work as well as he wants it to - and when that fails, he shifts forward and very gently presses the edge of his raven beak to the nose of the mask, and then down gently to press against his mouth. like old times.
it's stabilizing and steadying - and it only takes a moment, in a soft flurry of black feathers, for him to take a more familiar, human shape, to naturally fit into the space of the bed, still wormed under his arm, and the second time, it's vax'ildan's soft, rough voice. he's too small still, his normal six feet something instead of appropriately so for hyth at first, but that's fine. ]
the pain is bad today - most days he can shut it away, carry on. do his duty, as he has been entrusted. he will bring back his world. he has to. and maybe he'll find shards of his loved ones. he hasn't seen the soul of the young man that elidibus has been watching, but elidbus says there's promise, there. something to manipulate. the thought makes hyth's stomach turn. makes him come here, and pretend that he's just home first. that hades and azem are on their way, that perhaps azem found a raven fluttering around outside and coaxed it indoors. he can imagine hades complaining, drowned out by the sound of cawing that sounds like laughter.
the raven presses its beak to his lips, and - when he feels the tug of aether, he gives, easily enough. unravels it bit by bit, giving vax his shape. small, sure, but that's fine, for now. if vax wants to change shape, he'll tell hyth, and hyth will oblige.
he brings a hand up to run through vax's hair, a lifeless little smile on his lips.]
Ah, I don't track time these days regardless. What's another day, month, year? [...] Hello. It is good to see you.
[ very much familiar - the echo of a meeting, many years past.
he stays there as the transformation takes hold, beak shifting to a mouth, soft and familiar, holds a greeting as gentle as a kiss, and then pulls back just a little bit. the size difference between them doesn't really matter, like this, and... besides, he can remember being curled up around even back in the prism, faint as the memory is.
vax'ildan takes the moment to center himself in his more human form as the hand comes up through his hair, and then shifts up to press their foreheads together, gentle - there's a soft huff, a little wry, because doesn't he know it. what is time.
... even still; ] ...You too.
[ one large raven wing comes up and flutters a little, crossing over his back to wrap around him like a small blanket, curling up and around hyth, protective and warm even at a smaller stature; the emotions he has are much larger than his frame, and always have been. vax hates that lifeless little smile, actually. ]
You look fucking terrible. [ wow
there's no heat to it though, coming with a little extra bonk. ]
[forehead to forehead, hyth closes his eyes, allowing for vax to try to comfort him best he can. there isn't much he can do to stop the pain, but he can ease it, at least a little.]
My thanks. [he says, with a touch of dryness to his tone. he tugs vax's hair a little.] You are as lively as ever.
[it's nice. better than the quiet, empty world around him.] You always do find a way past the defenses.
[ heh. he tips his head up a little bit when he pulls his hair, unrepentant as ever - a hint of his normal humor. ]
Course I do. Snuck past way scarier than you, Hyth.
[ it's true - there are few defenses that could ever keep vax'ildan away from something (except maybe a door). especially like this, hundreds of years into his immortality, a tether to reality, a tether to something small and sweet and warm - bitter, with a part missing, but no less loving, either.
the wing over his back rustles softly, warm and reaching. ] When was the last time you took a bath?
[ that's never really a good sign. vax'ildan frowns - it's obvious and immediate on his face, mouth pulling at the corners. he worms a hand free and reaches up to cup his cheek with his small hand for a moment, all callouses, looking up into the eyes of that mask. vax had never really personally enjoyed them, but it's not like he's not used to the look - and after last time, he's going to have to test that water slowly.
he huffs. ]
Too long, then. [ ... at least, if anything else, maybe vax can get him to try and take care of himself. he'd done similar for hades, even, when he was overworking, as hyth had done for hades hundreds of times before, too. ] We should. Let me fix your hair for you.
[it's hard to see, with the mask. but he flinches, just a little, at the touch to his face. it takes a moment for hyth to look again, meeting vax's gaze. there's a flicker of soft purple eyes watching him from behind emet selch's mask.]
If you should desire it, I would be a fool to refuse. [he just sounds... tired. insincere, almost, but not on purpose - it's just been a long time since he's talked to anybody for something past business.] Would you prefer to stay that size?
[he's already sitting up, slowly. delicately. like he's sore.]
[ the flinch is one thing, the tone of voice another. as hyth starts to try to get up, vax'ildan pauses, just sort of stays there for a moment with a ] - Well, you can shift me if you want, but -
[ ultimately, he can't let that go, can't let the just there flicker of purple disappear, can't leave anything well enough alone. he's moving so slow that it's not hard for him to sit up with a soft ruffle of his feathers, pushing up onto his knees and reaching out to take his face again, this time in both hands. he's trying to be gentle, as emotionally intuitive as ever if not just plain worried, but his mannerisms aren't always as soft as he likes.
if nothing else, his eyes show it, though, gaze steady. ] ... What I desire - that's not the point, is it? [ this feels like an echo, too, of a conversation long past had in much better settings. ] What do you want?
[he freezes, when vax takes his face in his hands.
what does he want? well - it's nothing vax can give him, but he hears the unsaid part of that question, and so he doesn't waste their time with it.
what do you want, hythlodaeus? what a question. even when he wasn't a couple of millennia deep into the end of the world, he's not sure he could've answered it. what he wants is to be useful. useful to the people he loves. people that he hasn't seen for so long that he can barely remember what they sound like. he drags in an unsteady breath, and tries. vax is the only living, breathing (sort of) reminder of a life he's been holding onto, white-knuckled.
a pause.]
... Perhaps a lesson in how to feel something other than despair. [he says, like it's a joke. a humorless smile plays at his lips.] My apologies. Our plans have been a strain, as of late.
[ well - that doesn't make anything much better, actually, but, trying's worth something. part of the struggle of seeing hyth like this is that - well, he knows what that pit of despair feels like, and he knows how fucking hard it is to claw your way back out of it. how endless and dark the world is, when it's full of loss and pain at every turn, and... how important it can be, to have at least someone you can try and rely on when you don't want to crawl back out from it.
his voice is rough gravel, as ever, and a little wryly; ] Iunno how good I am for that one. [ comes a slighter joke of his own, too. he has to really straighten up, pushing himself up high and pressing one foot backwards off of the big bed that used to be for more than just one person and practically standing up so he can lean over and press a kiss to the crown of hyth's head this time, lingering.
as he straightens afterwards, he does reach out to try and coax him along. ]
Don't have to apologize. Can talk about it, if you like. [ a beat. ] Or, we can do everything possible to try and forget about it, too.
[he takes the kiss with a little sharp inhale of breath. and then vax is trying to move him along, and hythlodaeus pauses for just a moment before reaching to hold onto vax with both hands. it doesn't matter how - his aim is to adjust their sizes. to make them on par with each other, to make it so that hyth is proportionate. like this, hyth is shorter, though not by much.
and then he lets go, letting vax coax him wherever. it's a familiar apartment, after all. vax will know where the bathroom is.]
Forgetting has never been the goal. [he says, walking slow. there's a weight to his movements.] If I am to forget, nobody will be left to remember.
[he reaches up to adjust the mask, making sure it's in place.] Both Lahabrea and Elidibus have forgotten their true names. Only their titles remain.
[ by now, he's used to the feeling of aether, so - he doesn't flinch or move when hyth reaches out to hold him, hands at full size nearly as large as his entire torso. he stays still through the process, hands on his cheeks remaining a little longer, enough to get them both situated, before he drops them and takes one of his hands, instead.
from there, yeah. it's an easy walk, leading him along down the pathway of a memory, of an old apartment that feels almost cloying in its grief. he doesn't rush him much, walking with a purpose, eyes ahead as to hide his expression, though the statement gets his wings to puff out just slightly, a reactive moment of surprise.
vax glances back over his shoulder. ] No shit? That's awful. [ ... and again, his gaze flicks to that mask, briefly, brow furrowing further. ] ... you worried about it, too?
[a lot. he's terrified of it, but... he isn't a vessel, and he doesn't body hop. not like elidibus, lahabrea. he should be okay - though it's impossible to not worry. it's been a long, long time. and he feels gutted, when he thinks about how there is always a possibility he could forget hades' face. that's what this city is for. a reminder.
a deep breath.]
I am in no danger of it. I will hold fast. [and he tightens his grip on vax's hand.]
[ that confidence is a little reassuring, but the tightened grip maybe more so. vax nods - his palm presses tighter into hyth's, and he shifts enough to slide their fingers together more properly and squeeze. ]
You will.
[ no doubt on that; vax pauses at the door to the bathroom, and then pulls hyth's hand up to his mouth, wraps his other hand around it, and kisses his knuckles, giving their hands a little shake. ] Course you will.
[ it bears repeating, anyway, as he maintains eye contact, encouraging the best he can 0 fiercely so. vax'ildan has faith in hythlodaeus, that he can hold onto himself, that maybe he can help hyth do it, too. you're not alone. not just yet.
pulling him into the bathroom area, he glances back at the tub for a moment before pulling away, going to work the taps and get the water running, then waves a hand back behind him. ] Now, c'mon. Not gonna be spending much time with anyone if you smell like the backside of a barn. [ rude and untrue hyth probably smells like flowers ]
Rude. [he says, soft, teasing.] I allow you into my house and you insult me thus. I see how it is.
[but he's not offended, and he doesn't mind. in fact, slowly, he curls a little closer, wrapping his arms around vax from behind and burying his face against vax's neck. he gives him the room to finish what he's doing with the tub, but he doesn't want to give up the little amount of physical contact he still has. he didn't realize how much he missed it until it was gone.]
[ this is fine. the wings at his back seem to meld a little closer to his form and drape downwards as hyth comes to wrap around him, making space for him to get as comfortable and close as he likes. truthfully, he's not the only one who misses this - human contact for vax'ildan was limited the moment he stepped over the threshhold of shadowfell, and even a millennia later, he still isn't used to it. it's better now than it was before, but before, hyth and hades were a major part of keeping vax'ildan anchored, so he's glad to return the favor.
it's just rote, now - finding the taps, turning the water hot and warm, reaching for where the soaps used to always be and tossing one that smells particularly good into the bathtub with his free hand, the other resting easily on hyth's wrist. hythlodaeus can likely feel him laugh more than hear it, the noise soft and rumbly as he quips back, ] Will you listen?
[ but it's just as teasing, as he moves without much effort to squirm around to face hyth, tapping him gently on the chest and then moving to undo his robes while steam starts to waft up behind him. ]
Clothes, off. Come on. Get mine if you'll make me do yours, lazy.
[a little laugh, soft and musical, pressed against vax's neck.]
Perhaps. [it's the most life he's had in his voice yet. he likes the sound of vax's laughter. he likes this. something familiar to hold onto, the teasing back and forth.
when he's tapped, he lets go entirely, taking a deep breath. clothes off, vax says, and hythlodaeus pauses, allowing for vax to remove his robes. he reaches for vax's clothes as well, tugging, but then stops, and takes his hand instead.
carefully, he brings vax's hand up to the mask on his face. that can come off too, finally, if vax would like to remove it.]
well. there's something about this that's a little ironic - it brings back a memory of a millenia ago, standing in a dark residuum factory as his sister saved percy's life with a little kindness. it ripples a soft feeling of fondness through him, mouth curling up in a small, soft smile, as he carefully gets his fingertips underneath the mask, to pull it up and over his face, standing up tall and straight as it comes free and staying close by to take in the sight, and -
... vax exhales a breath he didn't really know he was holding. ]
... There. [ it comes with a little huff - he reaches up to cup his cheek for a moment now that it's bared, drinking in the sight of the familiar face of a friend with an easy, unhidden warmth in his voice, on his face. ] Long time no see, Hyth.
he's more tired than he used to be. there are circles under his eyes, and a weariness in his eyes that didn't used to be there, but he's here, and he's present. vax cups his cheek, and hythlodaeus manages a smile for him, small, but genuine. he rests a hand on vax's arm - not to push him away, but to brace him. show a little gratitude.]
Long time no see. [he repeats softly, leaning forward to press their foreheads together.] Thank you.
[for a lot of things, but mostly for pulling him out of the dark.]
[ that's relieving, to see the genuineness of that smile. vax returns it in kind without even really thinking about it, some of the worry wound around his heart starting to loosen as he comes closer. it's still hyth, indeed - kind, playful, sometimes actually kind of terrifying gremlin that vax came to know in the years after his time in the prism. he might be miserable, and he might be exhausted, but he's still there.
eyes closed, vax stays quiet for a long moment, and thinks to himself - i'm trying, hades. it's not like vax can do as much as he's sure hades would want. (if he had a way, he imagines he would've long since been here, fixing all of this with an unbelievable amount of complaining and a snap of his fingers, but reality isn't that kind, in the way it's not kind enough to let vax see keyleth, either.) he can't save hyth from this mess or his responsibilities or the sadness that seems to weigh him down, but... at least he can do this. at least he can try. ]
Course. [ really, hyth doesn't have to thank him, but. it's for more than just taking off his clothes, and vax knows it, so. his thumb strokes briefly over his cheek now that he's got it, and he pulls back only after the quiet settles, relishing in the contact, letting the affection and the words sink in, as he often has with such an important gesture.
he then leans in and smooches the tip of hyth's nose and steps out of the way, making a wide gesture at the tub, which is now pretty much full and smells amazing. ] In you go.
[ and then goes to set the mask down on a small table to the side. time for a metaphorical brain steam clean!! ]
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being immortal makes time feel strange. ten years feels like a week, sometimes; twenty can even feel like a day. in his time as the raven queen's champion, he has seen worlds change and move, has seen all of his companions but one now through shadowfell, held vex'ahlia's hand again and brought her to percival. he's watched empires rise and fall, live and die. with the ability to move from universe to universe, he's seen it multiplied.
... he's seen what happened to amaurot, too. to their entire society - to hades, who twisted away from the future he was given and not in the way that anyone really expected. who knows how much time has passed since then, really, but vax'ildan felt the loss in a frustratingly upsetting way that he shouldn't have, because death - death is his friend, and this was beyond him, beyond his reach, because it wasn't quite death at all.
and over the years, he's seen how it affected hythlodaeus, too.
sometimes time passes too quickly. sometimes, it'll be ten, twenty, thirty years, but he tries to visit when he can. it's been a particularly long stretch this go around, but as he takes down another archlich claiming the rebirth of vecna in a long, hard fought battle, his queen grants him the favor to check on yet another star.
and so, he does. by now, he's learned to pull on the aether of this place to make himself into a more familiar, human shape in a way he cannot do almost anywhere else. (it was the gravity of the power of the seat of emet selch that allowed vax'ildan this in the first place; what a wondrous, strange thing that had been.) still, ghostlike and unseeing, he moves beyond the skies, beyond the lush lands and kingdoms, down, down, into the ocean. unbreathing, wings extended light through the water like it's nothing, until vax'ildan finds his way to an underwater city that once gleamed on land.
... it's heartbreaking, to know why this stands the way that it does. it's lonely.
he doesn't shift into something tangible until he's in a familiar building. an apartment, one he knew intimately in the years and years that went by - like always, vax is slippery, finds his way in through the cracks and the windows with no trouble, silent as the grave.
and as he alights on the rebuild of an old bedroom, he just holds there for a moment, looking at the back of hythlodaeus, it's hard not to think that for someone so large, with so much presence and light to fill a room - he just looks so small.
... empathetic and heart aching to a fault, vax'ildan stays as he is for the moment. drawing on the aether on his own can only get him so far, anyway - he swoops down quietly from where he was perching, down towards the bed, and delicately lands on the surface. the only sound is a maybe strange rustle of feathers, before he does a little bird hop. once, twice, covering a little ground - and then worms his head underneath where he knows there's an arm across the bed, and starts moving to press up against the figure curled up in it, only then actually announcing his presence with a soft croak. ]
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he does not remember why this came to happen. he only knows that one day, they woke to the world falling apart, quite literally destroying itself from the inside out. and they could not allow that to happen, their home, their beloved star. but it required a deep sacrifice, and then another, and another.
the seat belongs to you, now, as it always originally had. hades had told him, handing him his mask. his burden to carry, his memory to hold. in an instant, hythlodaeus lost everything dear to him - hades, azem, his city, his home. he and the others, elidibus, lahabrea - they could not watch this world they loved so dearly fall from their grasp.
the apartment is a contained space. hythlodaeus is here, watching creatures of the ocean make their way through amaurot's empty streets. there is air, here. a bubble that allows for hyth to trace his fingers along the sheets of the bed he'd shared with someone gone for millennia.
the bird surprises him, a little. he's not expecting it, and it takes a moment to even remember who or what this is. the half mask of the seat of emet-selch rests on his face - he barely takes it off, these days. he'd refused to, the last time vax had been here. it remains to be seen if he'll refuse again.]
... Ah, Vax'ildan. Is that you? [he asks, soft, allowing for the bird to press up against him. he strokes the bird's head, smoothing back the feathers.] It has been... hm.
[he doesn't remember. time gets hard to keep track of.]
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sometimes visits are moments longer - snatches of a familiar black bird streaking through the sky, or raven feathers in a windowsill, or tucked into hythlodaeus's braid when he's off somewhere existing through life, in and out like a thief. sometimes this is the best he can do, with the destruction of this world and his own tenuous relationship with solidity in his own. but, as he glances up again at hyth, catching onto that mask, vax'ildan decides that today won't be that day.
he makes another caw noise, like an answer, quiet, feathers ruffling, as he focuses. focuses, focuses, puts all of his intent and energy into a familiar shape. (tries to pull on the aether the way hades taught him to, centuries ago; it doesn't work as well as he wants it to - and when that fails, he shifts forward and very gently presses the edge of his raven beak to the nose of the mask, and then down gently to press against his mouth. like old times.
it's stabilizing and steadying - and it only takes a moment, in a soft flurry of black feathers, for him to take a more familiar, human shape, to naturally fit into the space of the bed, still wormed under his arm, and the second time, it's vax'ildan's soft, rough voice. he's too small still, his normal six feet something instead of appropriately so for hyth at first, but that's fine. ]
Too long.
[ way, way too long; it's an unvoiced apology. ]
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the pain is bad today - most days he can shut it away, carry on. do his duty, as he has been entrusted. he will bring back his world. he has to. and maybe he'll find shards of his loved ones. he hasn't seen the soul of the young man that elidibus has been watching, but elidbus says there's promise, there. something to manipulate. the thought makes hyth's stomach turn. makes him come here, and pretend that he's just home first. that hades and azem are on their way, that perhaps azem found a raven fluttering around outside and coaxed it indoors. he can imagine hades complaining, drowned out by the sound of cawing that sounds like laughter.
the raven presses its beak to his lips, and - when he feels the tug of aether, he gives, easily enough. unravels it bit by bit, giving vax his shape. small, sure, but that's fine, for now. if vax wants to change shape, he'll tell hyth, and hyth will oblige.
he brings a hand up to run through vax's hair, a lifeless little smile on his lips.]
Ah, I don't track time these days regardless. What's another day, month, year? [...] Hello. It is good to see you.
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he stays there as the transformation takes hold, beak shifting to a mouth, soft and familiar, holds a greeting as gentle as a kiss, and then pulls back just a little bit. the size difference between them doesn't really matter, like this, and... besides, he can remember being curled up around even back in the prism, faint as the memory is.
vax'ildan takes the moment to center himself in his more human form as the hand comes up through his hair, and then shifts up to press their foreheads together, gentle - there's a soft huff, a little wry, because doesn't he know it. what is time.
... even still; ] ...You too.
[ one large raven wing comes up and flutters a little, crossing over his back to wrap around him like a small blanket, curling up and around hyth, protective and warm even at a smaller stature; the emotions he has are much larger than his frame, and always have been. vax hates that lifeless little smile, actually. ]
You look fucking terrible. [ wow
there's no heat to it though, coming with a little extra bonk. ]
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My thanks. [he says, with a touch of dryness to his tone. he tugs vax's hair a little.] You are as lively as ever.
[it's nice. better than the quiet, empty world around him.] You always do find a way past the defenses.
[his defenses.]
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Course I do. Snuck past way scarier than you, Hyth.
[ it's true - there are few defenses that could ever keep vax'ildan away from something (except maybe a door). especially like this, hundreds of years into his immortality, a tether to reality, a tether to something small and sweet and warm - bitter, with a part missing, but no less loving, either.
the wing over his back rustles softly, warm and reaching. ] When was the last time you took a bath?
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That you have. [he murmurs.] ... I could not say. Centuries, perhaps.
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he huffs. ]
Too long, then. [ ... at least, if anything else, maybe vax can get him to try and take care of himself. he'd done similar for hades, even, when he was overworking, as hyth had done for hades hundreds of times before, too. ] We should. Let me fix your hair for you.
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If you should desire it, I would be a fool to refuse. [he just sounds... tired. insincere, almost, but not on purpose - it's just been a long time since he's talked to anybody for something past business.] Would you prefer to stay that size?
[he's already sitting up, slowly. delicately. like he's sore.]
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[ ultimately, he can't let that go, can't let the just there flicker of purple disappear, can't leave anything well enough alone. he's moving so slow that it's not hard for him to sit up with a soft ruffle of his feathers, pushing up onto his knees and reaching out to take his face again, this time in both hands. he's trying to be gentle, as emotionally intuitive as ever if not just plain worried, but his mannerisms aren't always as soft as he likes.
if nothing else, his eyes show it, though, gaze steady. ] ... What I desire - that's not the point, is it? [ this feels like an echo, too, of a conversation long past had in much better settings. ] What do you want?
[ ... that I can give you, goes unsaid. ]
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what does he want? well - it's nothing vax can give him, but he hears the unsaid part of that question, and so he doesn't waste their time with it.
what do you want, hythlodaeus? what a question. even when he wasn't a couple of millennia deep into the end of the world, he's not sure he could've answered it. what he wants is to be useful. useful to the people he loves. people that he hasn't seen for so long that he can barely remember what they sound like. he drags in an unsteady breath, and tries. vax is the only living, breathing (sort of) reminder of a life he's been holding onto, white-knuckled.
a pause.]
... Perhaps a lesson in how to feel something other than despair. [he says, like it's a joke. a humorless smile plays at his lips.] My apologies. Our plans have been a strain, as of late.
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his voice is rough gravel, as ever, and a little wryly; ] Iunno how good I am for that one. [ comes a slighter joke of his own, too. he has to really straighten up, pushing himself up high and pressing one foot backwards off of the big bed that used to be for more than just one person and practically standing up so he can lean over and press a kiss to the crown of hyth's head this time, lingering.
as he straightens afterwards, he does reach out to try and coax him along. ]
Don't have to apologize. Can talk about it, if you like. [ a beat. ] Or, we can do everything possible to try and forget about it, too.
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and then he lets go, letting vax coax him wherever. it's a familiar apartment, after all. vax will know where the bathroom is.]
Forgetting has never been the goal. [he says, walking slow. there's a weight to his movements.] If I am to forget, nobody will be left to remember.
[he reaches up to adjust the mask, making sure it's in place.] Both Lahabrea and Elidibus have forgotten their true names. Only their titles remain.
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from there, yeah. it's an easy walk, leading him along down the pathway of a memory, of an old apartment that feels almost cloying in its grief. he doesn't rush him much, walking with a purpose, eyes ahead as to hide his expression, though the statement gets his wings to puff out just slightly, a reactive moment of surprise.
vax glances back over his shoulder. ] No shit? That's awful. [ ... and again, his gaze flicks to that mask, briefly, brow furrowing further. ] ... you worried about it, too?
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[a lot. he's terrified of it, but... he isn't a vessel, and he doesn't body hop. not like elidibus, lahabrea. he should be okay - though it's impossible to not worry. it's been a long, long time. and he feels gutted, when he thinks about how there is always a possibility he could forget hades' face. that's what this city is for. a reminder.
a deep breath.]
I am in no danger of it. I will hold fast. [and he tightens his grip on vax's hand.]
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You will.
[ no doubt on that; vax pauses at the door to the bathroom, and then pulls hyth's hand up to his mouth, wraps his other hand around it, and kisses his knuckles, giving their hands a little shake. ] Course you will.
[ it bears repeating, anyway, as he maintains eye contact, encouraging the best he can 0 fiercely so. vax'ildan has faith in hythlodaeus, that he can hold onto himself, that maybe he can help hyth do it, too. you're not alone. not just yet.
pulling him into the bathroom area, he glances back at the tub for a moment before pulling away, going to work the taps and get the water running, then waves a hand back behind him. ] Now, c'mon. Not gonna be spending much time with anyone if you smell like the backside of a barn. [ rude and untrue hyth probably smells like flowers ]
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Rude. [he says, soft, teasing.] I allow you into my house and you insult me thus. I see how it is.
[but he's not offended, and he doesn't mind. in fact, slowly, he curls a little closer, wrapping his arms around vax from behind and burying his face against vax's neck. he gives him the room to finish what he's doing with the tub, but he doesn't want to give up the little amount of physical contact he still has. he didn't realize how much he missed it until it was gone.]
Direct me as necessary.
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it's just rote, now - finding the taps, turning the water hot and warm, reaching for where the soaps used to always be and tossing one that smells particularly good into the bathtub with his free hand, the other resting easily on hyth's wrist. hythlodaeus can likely feel him laugh more than hear it, the noise soft and rumbly as he quips back, ] Will you listen?
[ but it's just as teasing, as he moves without much effort to squirm around to face hyth, tapping him gently on the chest and then moving to undo his robes while steam starts to waft up behind him. ]
Clothes, off. Come on. Get mine if you'll make me do yours, lazy.
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Perhaps. [it's the most life he's had in his voice yet. he likes the sound of vax's laughter. he likes this. something familiar to hold onto, the teasing back and forth.
when he's tapped, he lets go entirely, taking a deep breath. clothes off, vax says, and hythlodaeus pauses, allowing for vax to remove his robes. he reaches for vax's clothes as well, tugging, but then stops, and takes his hand instead.
carefully, he brings vax's hand up to the mask on his face. that can come off too, finally, if vax would like to remove it.]
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well. there's something about this that's a little ironic - it brings back a memory of a millenia ago, standing in a dark residuum factory as his sister saved percy's life with a little kindness. it ripples a soft feeling of fondness through him, mouth curling up in a small, soft smile, as he carefully gets his fingertips underneath the mask, to pull it up and over his face, standing up tall and straight as it comes free and staying close by to take in the sight, and -
... vax exhales a breath he didn't really know he was holding. ]
... There. [ it comes with a little huff - he reaches up to cup his cheek for a moment now that it's bared, drinking in the sight of the familiar face of a friend with an easy, unhidden warmth in his voice, on his face. ] Long time no see, Hyth.
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he's more tired than he used to be. there are circles under his eyes, and a weariness in his eyes that didn't used to be there, but he's here, and he's present. vax cups his cheek, and hythlodaeus manages a smile for him, small, but genuine. he rests a hand on vax's arm - not to push him away, but to brace him. show a little gratitude.]
Long time no see. [he repeats softly, leaning forward to press their foreheads together.] Thank you.
[for a lot of things, but mostly for pulling him out of the dark.]
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eyes closed, vax stays quiet for a long moment, and thinks to himself - i'm trying, hades. it's not like vax can do as much as he's sure hades would want. (if he had a way, he imagines he would've long since been here, fixing all of this with an unbelievable amount of complaining and a snap of his fingers, but reality isn't that kind, in the way it's not kind enough to let vax see keyleth, either.) he can't save hyth from this mess or his responsibilities or the sadness that seems to weigh him down, but... at least he can do this. at least he can try. ]
Course. [ really, hyth doesn't have to thank him, but. it's for more than just taking off his clothes, and vax knows it, so. his thumb strokes briefly over his cheek now that he's got it, and he pulls back only after the quiet settles, relishing in the contact, letting the affection and the words sink in, as he often has with such an important gesture.
he then leans in and smooches the tip of hyth's nose and steps out of the way, making a wide gesture at the tub, which is now pretty much full and smells amazing. ] In you go.
[ and then goes to set the mask down on a small table to the side. time for a metaphorical brain steam clean!! ]