[Therion shivers - it's almost but not quite a startle - and then he blinks, shaking his head as he comes out of his reverie. Glancing up, he frowns.]
I'll put up with being called 'Mr. Therion' by Cordelia, but it's weird coming from you.
[He realizes he's stalling, though, so his eye drops back down to the book, while he heaves a sigh. Before he was caught up in remembering, but now he's stymied by figuring out where to even start. There's another pause - much shorter this time - and then he finally begins:]
All this is probably going to sound pretty insane - or... maybe not. I guess it depends on what you already know. [Still stalling. His eyes flick up to Rondo's and then back down to the surface of the desk as he decides this is easier if he's not looking at anything in particular.] The extremely short version is, apparently Galdera, may he rest in fucking pieces, had a daughter, and she used the stones to open the Gate of Finis to try and let her dad out.
[There's a brief hesitation over saying the Dark God's name aloud; Therion generally avoids invoking the gods by name out of superstitious paranoia. It behooves a thief to avoid being Noticed by anyone, after all, not even the gods. Given that they very clearly Noticed anyway, if the past year or so is any indication, he supposes he ought to have free license to use their names however he sees fit. Still, old habits die hard.]
The first time... something went wrong. But recently, she tried to finish what she started. Honestly, it's pure luck that we were even there, chasing after Kit, but... [Luck, or maybe the whole reason the gods even took note of their odd little band to begin with? He's still not sure.] We went in after them, and inside the gate, there's... it's... We meet a bunch of ghosts. Or pieces of ghosts, I suppose. I don't really know. Anyway, the point is just -- some of them left us with... messages. Memories, I guess.
[He finally looks back up at Rondo and holds out the book, though he doesn't quite meet the knight's eyes.]
[ it doesn't sound any more insane than literally anything that rondo has done in the past few months of his life, so perhaps luckily, he takes it all in stride. it's not insane, it's familiar - the gate of finis, the daughter of the dark god, both figures that have appeared and weren't quite lost to time and memory. he lifts his hand, absently reaching up to rest it over his chest as therion continues to explain, feeling for the warmth of the sacred flame even if he doesn't summon it forward, like a reminder.
not that therion could possibly know any of that, considering! but externally, rondo just looks concerned, frowning as he comes a little bit closer and listening attentively to everything that he has to say.
and so, when the subject turns to memories, the look that ripples across rondo's face - surprise, unguarded - is as clear and vulnerable as day. ]
... My father?
[ lord ravus himself. the loss of his father and mother is an old one, so much so that he doubts that cordelia even really remembers their faces, but that doesn't mean the mere mention awakens something deep and sad, a locked away melancholy that easily bobs to the surface.
rondo holds out his hand, and there's a beat before he asks, hesitantly: ]
... You didn't... see him, did you? [ fragments of memories, ghosts... it's not impossible, all things considered. he doesn't know how he'd handle the thought - perhaps one of the luckier members of this twisted together destiny, rondo never encountered a ghost of anyone he knew in the varying cities of the hells. only sazantos, worse than the rest for a thousand other reasons. ]
[Therion is quiet as he places the book in Rondo's outstretched hand. His lips press together in a thin line, letting the silence stretch while he considers how to answer. It's hard, thinking about the ghosts, not the least because his mind tends to gravitate to the one that had shocked him to his core. He hadn't know Darius was dead until-- until then, though he doesn't want to think about that now - refuses to, in fact. He can deal with his own shit on his own time.
After several seconds, he lets out a heavy sigh.]
Maybe. I don't know for sure. He wasn't as... solid as some of the others, but maybe that's because he'd been dead longer. Or had fewer regrets. Who knows. Prim's dad was also pretty faded...
[Not that he expects Rondo to know who he's talking about there, but whatever. They'd speculated about it a bit later on their long trek back, but that's all it had been - speculation. Guesswork. And now Therion's just thinking aloud about it again.]
Anyway, Cyrus wrote down everything the ghosts had to say in there. Don't bother with the front half - you'll give yourself a headache. [Therion does not elaborate on why, but if Rondo looks, he'll just see a lot of scribbling academic shorthand. The front pages are also more stained.] The part from your father's marked with the second ribbon. [The first ribbon simply marks the end of the shorthand and the start of the Properly, Neatly Written Transcription (with annotations and supplementary notes!). Cyrus even started this section with a rough table of contents!]
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I'll put up with being called 'Mr. Therion' by Cordelia, but it's weird coming from you.
[He realizes he's stalling, though, so his eye drops back down to the book, while he heaves a sigh. Before he was caught up in remembering, but now he's stymied by figuring out where to even start. There's another pause - much shorter this time - and then he finally begins:]
All this is probably going to sound pretty insane - or... maybe not. I guess it depends on what you already know. [Still stalling. His eyes flick up to Rondo's and then back down to the surface of the desk as he decides this is easier if he's not looking at anything in particular.] The extremely short version is, apparently Galdera, may he rest in fucking pieces, had a daughter, and she used the stones to open the Gate of Finis to try and let her dad out.
[There's a brief hesitation over saying the Dark God's name aloud; Therion generally avoids invoking the gods by name out of superstitious paranoia. It behooves a thief to avoid being Noticed by anyone, after all, not even the gods. Given that they very clearly Noticed anyway, if the past year or so is any indication, he supposes he ought to have free license to use their names however he sees fit. Still, old habits die hard.]
The first time... something went wrong. But recently, she tried to finish what she started. Honestly, it's pure luck that we were even there, chasing after Kit, but... [Luck, or maybe the whole reason the gods even took note of their odd little band to begin with? He's still not sure.] We went in after them, and inside the gate, there's... it's... We meet a bunch of ghosts. Or pieces of ghosts, I suppose. I don't really know. Anyway, the point is just -- some of them left us with... messages. Memories, I guess.
[He finally looks back up at Rondo and holds out the book, though he doesn't quite meet the knight's eyes.]
One of them was your father.
no subject
not that therion could possibly know any of that, considering! but externally, rondo just looks concerned, frowning as he comes a little bit closer and listening attentively to everything that he has to say.
and so, when the subject turns to memories, the look that ripples across rondo's face - surprise, unguarded - is as clear and vulnerable as day. ]
... My father?
[ lord ravus himself. the loss of his father and mother is an old one, so much so that he doubts that cordelia even really remembers their faces, but that doesn't mean the mere mention awakens something deep and sad, a locked away melancholy that easily bobs to the surface.
rondo holds out his hand, and there's a beat before he asks, hesitantly: ]
... You didn't... see him, did you? [ fragments of memories, ghosts... it's not impossible, all things considered. he doesn't know how he'd handle the thought - perhaps one of the luckier members of this twisted together destiny, rondo never encountered a ghost of anyone he knew in the varying cities of the hells. only sazantos, worse than the rest for a thousand other reasons. ]
no subject
[Therion is quiet as he places the book in Rondo's outstretched hand. His lips press together in a thin line, letting the silence stretch while he considers how to answer. It's hard, thinking about the ghosts, not the least because his mind tends to gravitate to the one that had shocked him to his core. He hadn't know Darius was dead until-- until then, though he doesn't want to think about that now - refuses to, in fact. He can deal with his own shit on his own time.
After several seconds, he lets out a heavy sigh.]
Maybe. I don't know for sure. He wasn't as... solid as some of the others, but maybe that's because he'd been dead longer. Or had fewer regrets. Who knows. Prim's dad was also pretty faded...
[Not that he expects Rondo to know who he's talking about there, but whatever. They'd speculated about it a bit later on their long trek back, but that's all it had been - speculation. Guesswork. And now Therion's just thinking aloud about it again.]
Anyway, Cyrus wrote down everything the ghosts had to say in there. Don't bother with the front half - you'll give yourself a headache. [Therion does not elaborate on why, but if Rondo looks, he'll just see a lot of scribbling academic shorthand. The front pages are also more stained.] The part from your father's marked with the second ribbon. [The first ribbon simply marks the end of the shorthand and the start of the Properly, Neatly Written Transcription (with annotations and supplementary notes!). Cyrus even started this section with a rough table of contents!]