I believe I have come to know why. Others come from the same world as I do, but different moments in time. It appears that the older my world becomes, the less the humans turn to the gods. There are books in the library that speak of ages beyond the one I recall most vividly.
[ Not 'the one I know', because some part of him knows all of the history that he reads of. Perhaps not actively, though. It simply tells him to nod, to know that one day, Egypt as he knows it is gone. That foreigners steal their history and imprison it in their own nations, that the gods are distant — thought of as myth.
Dimitri joins him, and he cannot find it in his heart to protest. No dismissal comes from his mouth, as they had made a vow. An agreement, and so — he will uphold his end of it, to stay at Dimitri's side as he does Hayame. Even if their opposing aspects will make it HELL ON THEM!!! ] You try hard to be a good man.
[ That one statement carries more weight than not.
He is quick to tuck his sunbeam away, into the fall of his hair as he shakes his head and fans the red locks back over his shoulders. A curtain of carmine, the same shade as his brows, his lashes, the depths of his kohl-lined eyes. His brow knits, in hard thought over the question. Are his memories fond? He would not say so, nor would he say they are all miserable. 'Fondness alone does not lead me to seek its restoration.' / 'I recall it as a place difficult to feel solely fond of.' / 'I was never home. Not often enough to desire it as much as my siblings would.'
Things he thinks to say. Things he wishes he would have, instead of what he does: ] I was fond of it, once upon a time. What I feel for my world now is — I do not consider my feelings toward it, really.
no subject
[ Not 'the one I know', because some part of him knows all of the history that he reads of. Perhaps not actively, though. It simply tells him to nod, to know that one day, Egypt as he knows it is gone. That foreigners steal their history and imprison it in their own nations, that the gods are distant — thought of as myth.
Dimitri joins him, and he cannot find it in his heart to protest. No dismissal comes from his mouth, as they had made a vow. An agreement, and so — he will uphold his end of it, to stay at Dimitri's side as he does Hayame. Even if their opposing aspects will make it HELL ON THEM!!! ] You try hard to be a good man.
[ That one statement carries more weight than not.
He is quick to tuck his sunbeam away, into the fall of his hair as he shakes his head and fans the red locks back over his shoulders. A curtain of carmine, the same shade as his brows, his lashes, the depths of his kohl-lined eyes. His brow knits, in hard thought over the question. Are his memories fond? He would not say so, nor would he say they are all miserable. 'Fondness alone does not lead me to seek its restoration.' / 'I recall it as a place difficult to feel solely fond of.' / 'I was never home. Not often enough to desire it as much as my siblings would.'
Things he thinks to say. Things he wishes he would have, instead of what he does: ] I was fond of it, once upon a time. What I feel for my world now is — I do not consider my feelings toward it, really.