Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Feb 3, 2021 16:23:36 GMT -5
Orpheus knew he was unique in having lived the stories in the stars. He was unique in having lived stories that were now seen as myth. He had heard the way people told his stories. They were all wrong. They didn’t know the truth of the heroes they told about, they didn’t know the real story. Orpheus found he wasn’t upset by that. If the people in the world as it was now wanted to immortalize the people Orpheus had known… who was he to stop them? Who was he to tell them that they couldn’t tell these stories? There was something sad about being forgotten, something painful about the idea of the world passing by, of a name never being spoken again. Even the people Orpheus had met that he didn’t’ like didn’t deserve that. They deserved someone telling their stories, even if the stories were told inaccurately. Let Heracles be made into a hero, if that was what people wanted to do. He may not have deserved it, but he did deserve to be remembered.
He didn’t mention these thoughts to L. He didn’t tell him that the sort of person he was afraid Orpheus might be were simply the sorts of people Orpheus had travelled with for a while, the sorts of people Orpheus had tried to temper, had tried to hold back. He hadn’t succeeded in making those men kinder. Perhaps their stories were tragedies for a reason.
“I’ve done the best I can,” Orpheus admitted, looking at the ground for a long moment. “I… I’ve made mistakes, but I’ve done what I can to improve the lives of the people who are still alive now.”
Orpheus had a very different perspective of hope than L did. If he had known what L thought, he would have told him he was right, that hope could make failure hurt more, but… but that it was worth it anyway. That it was easier to hold onto yourself when you had hope, that someone who maintained hope was more human than someone who had lost it. That the greatest stories were about people who had either lost hope and chosen to relight the torch, or people who had held onto hope in the first place.
“I think you’ve tried to do good too,” he added, his words small, meant only for L. “I think if you weren’t trying to do good… then you wouldn’t have ever followed me in the first place. I think you don’t give yourself enough credit.” He managed a small smile, then turned away from L to pack up the remainder of the food and the rest of the cooking supplies. He let the fire burn for a bit longer, giving them both a moment to take in the stars.
“Ready to move on?” he asked after a moment. He wasn’t tired. He had a feeling L wasn’t very tired either.
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It had been a while. Orpheus wasn’t keeping track of days, except to remember the date. He didn’t want to lose track of that, for reasons he didn’t quite understand. Perhaps he just wanted to remember how long he had been alive. Conversation between them, though not exactly awkward, was rare. They talked sometimes when they stopped for food or rest, but not often when they were walking. Walking was quiet – Orpheus knew why. They were used to quiet walking. They were used to being alone as they travelled, used to the other’s company only insofar as the fact that there would be someone with them when they reached their destination. Travel had always been something a little bit more… private. Orpheus wished he knew how to break the silence.
He could smell salt, now. They were coming closer to water, and Orpheus couldn’t hide his smile. They had to keep near rivers sometimes, to make sure they had a source of water if dehydration ever struck, but… it had been a long time since they had seen a huge body of water. It reminded Orpheus a bit of home.
“We used to tell stories about the sea,” he murmured, itching to get a little bit closer to it. “Of people who came from there, of people who lived on the ocean… I traveled it once,” he continued, glancing over at L.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Feb 3, 2021 21:15:37 GMT -5
L wasn’t keeping track of the date. He hadn’t done that even when he’d been mortal, he had never been good at keeping track of things outside his own head. Certain facts, sure. Certain facts rested well inside his head, but not time. Not dates. At least...not usually. Sometimes they seemed to stick, but he could never predict what he would remember so it wasn’t terribly helpful, all things considered.
He wasn’t used to having the option to speak, honestly. Even when they’d arrived places. It perhaps spoke to how different their experience was, that Orpheus felt that the other immortal considered traveling more lonely, because he’d always had people he could talk to when he arrived. L hadn’t. L had been alone even in crowds, perhaps especially in crowds. Invisible in plain sight, sometimes, or invisible on shadows, but invisible nonetheless.
He glanced at Orpheus, torn from his thoughts by the comment. He wasn’t sure how to respond, at first...they hadn’t talked much, though they had some when they rested. L was unused to speech. His voice was probably only in as good condition as it was due to the curse that kept him living, since he’d not said a word for years at a time, sometimes.
“What sort of stories?” He asked after a moment, curiosity winning out against all else, as it usually did.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Feb 4, 2021 1:44:19 GMT -5
Orpheus gave a small smile as he let his mind drift back to the sorts of stories they used to tell. He couldn’t remember sometimes which were real and which were made up. That was the thing about being a thing of myth – it was hard to separate the truth from the story, sometimes. Especially with things he’d only heard rather than experienced. He glanced at L for a long moment, then let his eyes drift closed as he kept walking, soaking in the smell of the salty sea air. They were getting close. He could feel the urge to be closer racing through his blood. It had been too long and being near open water always felt at least a little bit like coming home. Except without the painful memories, without the reminder that everything he had grown up with was gone. It was like a new city now, built up around and over the one Orpheus had loved. And yet… it was still the same, still very much the same. He pushed the thought away. Thinking about Thrace was always going to hurt a little bit.
“Well,” he murmured, considering for another moment, “There were stories of great sea monsters, things that could crush boats without a second thought, leaving them to sink and the sailors to drown. There were stories of sirens – which are real – and the way they bewitch you, promising you whatever it is you want most… and then they take you under and drag you to the depths. Make you crash your boat on their rocky shores. But there were also stories of people who lived out on the water, who traded on large rafts made of seaweed and coral. If they liked you, they would give you necklaces made of shells. I always wanted to meet them, when I was a child.”
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Feb 10, 2021 1:54:17 GMT -5
Orpheus felt the urge to be near the ocean more than L did, truthfully. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel it, of course he felt it, it was just...Orpheus felt it more. L didn’t know that seemed to be the case, but it did. He could see the eagerness in the other immortal’s expression, could see the way he almost seemed to want to run. L couldn’t hold it against him, truthfully. He may not have really shared the sensation, but Orpheus had perhaps had more experience than he had. L hadn’t traveled much, truthfully...he hadn’t been able to. Opportunities hadn’t really come up for him, and he’d had plenty to keep his attention as it was.
He listened quietly as Orpheus spoke, head tilted a little as he looked at the other person. Yes, he definitely had first hand experience here...and not just when L knew him. He probably had traveled even before he’d been cursed though probably not as much. Still, L thought this was something much deeper and more nostalgic than he could understand.
He imagined what a siren could possibly offer him. His mortality? Maybe...L frowned a little. Odd, that humans could reject immortality but couldn’t seem to want to get rid of it once they had it. Not that L was really able to know what everyone would do under those circumstances.
“I’ve never heard of them,” he admitted, eyes wide as he looked at Orpheus. He was being careful still, but there seemed little harm in admitting that much…he wasn’t worried about this small confession.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Feb 10, 2021 2:17:54 GMT -5
Orpheus couldn’t help but wonder what sirens might offer him now. He wasn’t the same man he’d been when he had protected the men from them the first time. He knew what they had promised him then – human connection, friends, people who would understand him… he had managed to ignore them. He had played for his life, played for the lives of every man in the crew, had done everything he could to save the lives of people who hadn’t been nearly as conscientious about the lives they came across. Sometimes, in Orpheus’ darkest moments, he wondered what would have happened if he had refused to go on the mission. If he had just… let those men die. How many lives might he have saved that way? But the lives his crewmates had taken weren’t on his head. He had done everything in his power to save those lives. And he had enough to feel guilty about.
“The sirens and the sea monsters are real,” he told L with a small shrug. “Or… they were real, a very long time ago. I don’t know if they are anymore.” He hadn’t risked going sailing for more than a day, especially not when he had become aware of L’s presence. He hadn’t wanted to lose his shadow by sailing somewhere he couldn’t follow. Besides, you didn’t need a crew for land travel. There was nobody who could question why you weren’t growing old.
“I think the others only exist in Thracian legend. I didn’t think our stories were that different from other places, but… I guess I’ve had plenty of time to learn better.” He gave a sort of shy smile, then hesitated for a long moment. “Did… your people tell stories?” He didn’t want to ask L where he was from. Didn’t want to force him to answer things he didn’t want to. But he could ask that, right?
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Feb 12, 2021 14:14:26 GMT -5
Sirens sounded frightening, if they could really see inside your head like that. L didn’t like the idea that his thoughts could be visible, that what he wanted could possibly be known by monsters...no, he didn’t like that at all. He didn’t want to think about that. He shook his head a little, keeping his thoughts carefully to himself.
He didn’t know about the things Orpheus had done before he was cursed. It was odd, to think he didn’t know of an Orpheus who wasn’t cursed, to think that there had been a version of this person he now walked beside who had done things L didn’t know about. It was possible that that was because L had been following him for so long that it felt like he’d always been doing it. It was also possible that he just didn’t like not knowing things. But he wouldn’t push. Orpheus seemed to be giving him that same courtesy.
He couldn’t deny that the idea of monsters was interesting at the same time it was frightening. Sirens and other things were outside his range of expertise by a lot, after all, and he didn’t know what to expect from hearing about them. Though...he suspected they wouldn’t be tales of befriending them, somehow. From what he did know, monsters were not to be befriended.
He hesitated at the question, glancing at Orpheus. Did he want to talk about that? It hadn’t been a direct question about where he had lived, but couldn’t Orpheus figure it out based on any information.
Then again….it wasn’t like L had anything left to protect there.
“Yes,” he said finally, deciding it was worth any potential risk. “They did. I suppose, probably, they still do, though I don’t know what stories they tell anymore. I expect if I went home now, I wouldn’t recognize it.
Interesting, that he still thought of it as home, even now.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Feb 12, 2021 22:45:03 GMT -5
Orpheus didn’t know if sirens actually got inside people’s head. He wasn’t sure they were actually aware of what their targets wanted. Orpheus figured it was probably a lot like his own music – he had a feeling in mind that he tried to infuse the music with, and when he played it, the listener’s imagination did most of the work. He had only known the basics of the story he had sung to Hades and Persephone, after all. He hadn’t known exactly how Hades had felt, he didn’t know the exact words he had told Persephone, the promises they had shared. What he knew, however, had been enough. It was their thoughts – their memories that had done the rest of the work for him. He figured the sirens made you feel longing – it was your own mind that supplied what you wanted. The sirens’ magic promised that they would be able to give it to you, but they didn’t actually need to know what it was their victims wanted. It wasn’t as though they were planning on giving it to them, after all.
Orpheus had been very different before he had been cursed. He still trusted too easily, still saw the world the way it could be, but… he had tasted heartache now. He knew what it was like to love, and he knew what it was like to lose. He hadn’t known that before he was cursed. His understanding of the world had been limited – he’d been optimistic and idealistic. There was a difference between being optimistic because nothing bad had ever happened to you and being optimistic because you chose to be in spite of the cruelty of the world. Yes, he had changed over the past few hundred years.
“Maybe the stories are more similar now than you think they’d be,” he replied quietly, glancing back up at L. He wasn’t going to ask him if he wanted to go home. If L wanted that… then Orpheus figured he would volunteer it himself. It wasn’t Orpheus’ place to push for information. “What… what stories did you like, when you were younger?” He had been about to ask what L’s favorite had been, but he figured ‘favorite’ might be too personal. Best to start with just… ones he had enjoyed.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Feb 12, 2021 23:07:58 GMT -5
L didn’t know what he would have been offered by the sirens. He didn’t know how sirens worked, that they couldn’t actually read your mind, he didn’t know much about monsters. At least, not those kinds.
He didn’t know what Orpheus was thinking. He knew the story now, Orpheus had told him that much, but he didn’t connect that to the sirens, and he wasn’t thinking of it now.
He still wouldn’t have liked it if he’d known what sirens could really do. Causing him to feel things felt so wrong, and he didn’t want to think that he could be influenced that easily. Maybe he couldn’t. Maybe if he ever met a siren, they’d fail. He hoped so. He didn’t want to think about what would happen if he were to meet a siren and fall into their trap, immortality or not.
He would never know Orpheus before he was cursed. Just as Orpheus would never meet the L from before. This was who they were, this was the way things were now, and he knew all too well that they couldn’t turn back the clock.
L had always been paranoid. He’d always been careful, wary, uncertain about strangers. But...he had been different, before. He’d been sure he could help. Hebrew so sure he would find a purpose, and he’d had one person to encourage him, and when he’d lost that person he’d felt broken inside. Was it the curse that had made him see how powerless he was? Or was it something else?
“Maybe,” he said quietly, meeting Orpheus’ eyes for a moment before he looked away again. He didn’t want to go home. Or...he did. But home wasn’t a place, and it hadn’t been for a long time. He didn’t know where home was, didn’t know how to go there, how to find it. He didn’t know if he ever would.
“Fairy tales, mostly.” He answered, thinking back to the ones he’d heard as a kid. “I liked ones where I couldn’t predict the ending. Which, wasn't often.” He shifted, trying to remind himself not to give too much away. He wasn’t relaxed, he was careful, but he also knew that there was no point in passing the time in the silence they were both used to. And he didn’t mind talking a little. What could Orpheus do with a fairy tale?
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Feb 13, 2021 0:57:37 GMT -5
Orpheus continued walking, closing his eyes for just a moment as he embraced the scent of the sea air. No matter how long it had been since he’d been near an ocean, it still tasted like home. He had travelled a lot as a child, and not always over water. Hermes had taken him all over Greece, and there were plenty of places that weren’t quite as near to the water. Still… Orpheus thought of Thrace as home. Even if it hadn’t been home for a very long time. Even if he didn’t have a home anymore at all. He would take anything that felt like home where he could get it. It was a very rare feeling, but one he still held close, treasured, tried his absolute best not to stifle. It was like a baby bird he held in his hand, afraid to let go for fear it might not make it more than a few feet away before a hawk grabbed it or its wings gave out and it fell from the sky.
“Were there any fairy tales in particular you liked?” Orpheus asked, inclining his head. He didn’t mean to push – if L didn’t want to talk, Orpheus had plenty of his own stories to fill the silence, but… L had been silent for so long. Orpheus wanted to give him the chance not to be, if that were at all possible.
It was a delicate balance, trying to tell L that it was okay to be human without accidentally pushing any of his boundaries. He just… didn’t know him well enough.
“I was always really bad at predicting the endings to stories when I was little,” he admitted with a small smile. Somehow, it didn’t surprise him that L was able to see where certain stories were going before the characters knew. If the two of them were in a story… did L know where this was going? Could he see further than Orpheus could, did he have any idea what might befall them? Orpheus supposed he might, if he was planning to leave after this. L might know what would happen if he was the one to make that choice. Orpheus breathed out. Maybe… maybe he’d be enough to convince L to stay. He’d been enough that L had followed him… he shook the thought away. They weren’t even at the lights yet. What happened after wasn’t Orpheus’ concern yet, even if L already knew whether their paths diverged when they made it North.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Feb 22, 2021 0:21:21 GMT -5
It was funny, how Hermes and Watari might have met at some point in their travels. How, L might not have known, being left wherever they were staying. He didn’t often come with Watari outside, after all.
Was it likely? Not really. But it was possible.
Home was...not somewhere L knew of anymore. Did he have a home? The answer to that was a resounding no. He hadn’t had a home in a very long time.
He missed belonging somewhere. Missed existing in a place he could call his own. Having a place to return to, a place where he felt safe. He hadn’t felt safe in a long time, and he missed that perhaps most of all.
He tilted his head a little, considering the question carefully. He wasn’t used to being asked questions...wasn’t used to being spoken to at all. He wasn’t used to existing anymore, not in any way that really mattered.
So it took him a few minutes to digest that he could actually answer.
“I don’t think I had a favorite…” he said hesitantly, tilting his head a little as he considered. “I liked once that I couldn’t guess, I suppose.”
He watched Orpheus, curious as he admitted he didn’t share L’s knack for guessing at the endings. “It depends on how the story is laid out, usually, and how it begins, as it often references the beginning when it ends. That means the beginning is a clue. It will also have a resolution to the problem, and it will often attempt to surprise you, though that doesn’t usually succeed.”
He stopped himself. He didn’t want to talk too much, not when he didn’t know Orpheus very well. He rubbed the back of his neck a little, then continued in a slightly less animated tone. “I could usually figure it out, but I liked it when it was challenging.”
He also remembered being upset when he got it wrong. But that wasn’t relevant.
He couldn’t guess the ending to this story, though...he didn’t know what was going to happen here. Perhaps Orpheus didn’t expect him to even consider staying. He didn’t know…he didn’t know how to read this. He was completely out of his element and it was making him feel shy.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Feb 22, 2021 2:46:42 GMT -5
Orpheus wasn’t sure that L was going to answer. He didn’t think he could blame him if he didn’t. There were a number of factors at play. Primarily that L had gone a very, very long time with speaking, but also that Orpheus could be annoying and pushy and all sorts of other things. He didn’t know if he was a good travelling companion. He didn’t know if he was a good friend. He didn’t know how to be one anymore. Did L even want a friend, or was Orpheus just… a means to an end? A way to pass time, or a way to see the Northern Lights without worrying that the man who had tried to defy death would go off and do something stupid.
Orpheus knew he was overthinking it. He didn’t know L well enough yet to read him. He didn’t know what to expect from this, he didn’t even know what he wanted. No… he knew that. He didn’t want to be alone anymore.
“I never noticed any of that,” he admitted softly, adjusting the strap of his lyre so it rested more comfortably on his back. He was used to carrying it long distances, but sometimes it still sat awkwardly. He kept walking, eyes scanning the path to make sure they were alone. As long as they were alone, they could talk freely. That, and Orpheus wasn’t really sure how L would react to people now that he had rejoined humanity. Orpheus may not have known the area very well, but he was going to do his absolute best to ease L back into interacting with people. It shouldn’t be too hard to avoid any big cities. Unless L decided he wanted to spend time in one… he didn’t want to be making decisions for the other immortal, but he didn’t know how else to navigate this.
“So you deconstructed stories when you listened to them?” Orpheus asked, eyes widening a little bit as he risked a glance at L. He enjoyed hearing his thoughts on things, enjoyed… well, seeing him be a person, not just a shadow. He would encourage his companion to speak his thoughts as much as he could. If L didn’t want to share… that was fine. Orpheus just wanted him to know that the option was there.
“I guess I sort of did the same, just… not in the same way,” he admitted, a small smile touching the corner of his face. “I tried to make all the words rhyme so I could fit it into a song. I tried to make the story make sense while still being singable. And the accompaniment had to match the tone of the story.” Was he oversharing? He fell silent a moment later, anything else he might have said dying on his lips.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Feb 24, 2021 22:55:15 GMT -5
L hadn’t yet been annoyed by Orpheus. Far from it, in fact. He found he was actually enjoying this, enjoying the time he was spending with Orpheus, somehow even more than he’d liked merely following. This was about more than keeping an eye on Orpheus, because he was only sort of doing that, too. This was also about standing at his side instead of to his left in the shadows. It was about more than seeing the lights. It was about Orpheus himself.
He didn’t want to think about parting with the time came. He didn’t want to think about Orpheus asking him to leave, but...if it happened...L would listen. He didn’t actually believe Orpheus was dangerous anymore, after all. It was odd, thinking that and still not trusting the person in question.
He nodded a little, not surprised that Orpheus noticed what L had. It made sense, not many people did. He didn’t worry about that, not as much as he used to anyway.
He was sure how he’d react if they came to a city. Or...met someone else. He’d been alone so long, he wasn’t sure he was okay with the idea of being around other people. What would he do if they met someone on the road? L knew what he was likely to do. Say nothing and hope they didn’t notice him, even though he was very obvious. He hoped they wouldn’t meet anyone...he didn’t want to meet anyone else. Orpheus was hard enough, and he knew him so well by now. Or he thought he did. If you could call following someone for 400 years knowing them. Could you?
“Yes, precisely,” he said, nodding a little. He didn’t know why he was sharing his past, why he was thinking this was a good idea, but he couldn’t help it. Apparently be8nf alone for that long had a tendency to make you desperate for interaction.
He wasn’t sure he wanted to share. But...he didn’t not want to share. He listened to Orpheus carefully, eyes widening just a little at the thought of turning stories into music.
“I’ve never tried that,” he admitted quietly, tilting his head a little as he imagined it. “Turning stories into songs. Perhaps I’m not very musically minded.”
He noticed Orpheus had stopped speaking, though he didn’t know why. He let a moment pass before he tentatively started again.
“Did...you have a favorite story?” He asked, voice quiet and not a little bit shy. He wasn’t sure that was what he was supposed to ask, but he’d asked it now, so it was too late to take it back. Hopefully Orpheus wouldn’t mind.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Feb 25, 2021 2:19:16 GMT -5
It was quickly becoming very clear to Orpheus that he and L had very different ways of thinking. It wasn’t a bad thing, by any means. He had already known that they were very different. He knew he couldn’t have survived nearly as long as L had in the shadows. Though he considered himself an introvert, he was still human. He still needed to talk to people and spend time with them and see the sunshine in order to feel happy. He tilted his head a little as that thought occurred to him. Was L… happy? When was the last time he had a happy moment? When was the last time he had experienced unfettered joy?
Orpheus hadn’t been fully happy since before Eurydice died, but he still managed to find happiness here and there. He had recovered as much as he was likely to recover. He smiled when he saw flowers blooming. He felt his heart light up when he played for children and they asked if they could pluck the strings of his lyre. He had gotten used to the rush of familiarity that came with knowing exactly where Érebos was without needing to look at him. Yes… Orpheus had managed to find small moments of happiness. Had L? How could he, when he was hidden in the shadows? How could he, when he had practically become shadow himself?
“You’re very intelligent,” Orpheus commented after a moment, his voice completely absent of sarcasm or scorn. It was an observation. Not necessarily a compliment (though he did think it was a good thing), just something he had noticed. “And observant,” he added. “Actually… you’re just very impressive all around.” That was meant to be a compliment. Orpheus had no idea how L would take it. Had he been complimented in the past several hundred years? If he hadn’t talked to anybody, then nobody would have noticed how genius his thought pattern was. That seemed a shame, to Orpheus. And it was his fault.
“Music makes things easier to understand, for me,” Orpheus admitted, glancing over to meet L’s gaze for a long moment. “From what I can tell, you don’t need anything in between information and understanding.” At least not when it came to stories. “Or… maybe I’m just more used to learning about things emotionally. Maybe you’re more used to doing it analytically.” He felt like that was a fair assumption to make, but he watched L’s face, brows creased in case he had somehow managed to say the wrong thing.
“A favorite story?” Orpheus repeated, trying to think of one. “Well… how much do you know about the gods? I mean… the ones we have in Thrace. Did… you worship them where you lived?”
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Feb 25, 2021 2:46:14 GMT -5
L had been prepared to spend the rest of his life in the shadows, and he had no idea how long that might be. He hadn’t thought he’d had a choice, hadn’t expected this. He was good at predicting things, and he hadn’t predicted this.
Happy? He wouldn’t have known how to reply if Orpheus had asked him that. Truthfully...he wasn’t sure he remembered what true happiness felt like. It wasn’t that he was constantly miserable, he was just...well. He wouldn’t have called it joy.
He hadn’t had moments, like Orpheus had. He hadn’t had the chance to exist in so long. When he saw flowers, he didn’t know whether to smile or turn away because they would die. When he saw people, it was always from the shadows, never interacting with them, not even close.
So no, he wasn’t happy, but he tried to be okay with that. He was lost. And...if he were honest with himself...lonely. Very lonely. Humans weren’t made for the life he’d been living, not made to be alone for more than one lifetime. Without Orpheus, he’d probably have lost his mind.
He blinked, surprised by the comment, head tilting a little. He knew he was intelligent, but it had been a very long time since he’d heard anyone tell him that. Or tell him anything. Sometimes he thought he would have taken insults just to have someone acknowledge his existence.
“Oh,” he replied, surprise in his tone as he tried to formulate a reply. His brain glitched. He’d been complimented, and all he could do was reach up and rub the back of his neck awkward. How did people normally react to compliments? Because he was aware that he was intelligent, so it wasn’t like he’d been told something he didn’t know, but...
“You’re impressive, too,” he blurted out, some color building in his cheeks. Was that the correct reply? He hoped it was. It wasn’t like him to be at a complete loss, but he was now.
He focused on the story instead, determined not to seem any more awkward than he had to.
“Yes, that seems to make sense,” he nodded, thinking of the way Orpheus had described things so far. “You seem to use your emotions more than me, in general,” he added tentatively. “Which isn’t a bad thing. I’ve just never been that connected to my emotions.”
Orpheus was easy to talk to...a little too easy. He felt himself slipping a little, not his mask but his words. Maybe it had just been too long since he’d had anyone to talk to.
He hesitated. “Yes, and no,” he answered carefully. “I mean...I knew of them. And I believed in them. But it didn’t affect me much, I suppose.”
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Feb 25, 2021 3:12:57 GMT -5
If Orpheus wanted one thing from this… it was to show L that he could be happy. That it was possible, even with the infinite life that had been handed to him. That maybe it was worth it to go see the parts of the world that he had always wanted to see, maybe it was worth it to break away and take life into their own hands. Even if L wanted to leave after this… Orpheus hoped their time together had an impact. He found he just wanted L to be happy, even if that meant somewhere else, away from him. Was Orpheus a painful reminder? It seemed he wasn’t, though he still didn’t understand how. He still didn’t understand how L didn’t resent him for what had happened. He was going to need to get over that feeling eventually. He had to take L at his word that he didn’t blame him. He had to trust him. And Orpheus had always been very good at trusting people.
Orpheus hadn’t expected the compliment to be turned on him. His eyes widened and he stared at L for a long moment, almost stopping where he stood. He managed to keep walking, however, rolling the words around in his head.
“Thank you,” he managed after a few moments, a smile spreading across his face. It seemed he might have been misreading L. If the man was annoyed by him… he probably wouldn’t have returned the compliment, right? Orpheus shook his head of the thought. He wasn’t going to be able to stop trying to read L, but he also knew that it was going to be a very long time before he succeeded in reading him. If ever.
“Perhaps we make a good contrast, then,” Orpheus replied after a moment, his expression softening into something just a little less self-conscious. “If I’m the heart and you’re the brain. I can think of many poets who would point out that many good teams are comprised of just that. Granted… most epic poems also go on to talk about war, and at least one of them dies, and I’d rather not… think about that right now.” He blushed a little bit, unsure how he had started rambling again. Perhaps it was just the indescribable feeling of finally being able to actually talk to the one person who had a chance of understanding what it was to go through life like they both did. Orpheus may have stayed out of the shadows, but he still didn’t belong anywhere. He still couldn’t make friends or keep people in his life for more than a few years before he had to pack up and move on.
“My favorite story was about the gods,” Orpheus murmured, glancing over at L one more time as he kept walking. “Actually, it’s about how this lyre got made,” he continued, pushing one shoulder up to show off the lyre to L.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Feb 25, 2021 10:56:59 GMT -5
Was it possible, being happy? Was it possible to feel that, even in this world that he’d already been in too long? He didn’t know...he didn’t even know if Orpheus was happy. If he wasn’t, then what chance did L have? He didn’t know. Too many questions, not enough answers.
He didn’t blame Orpheus. Especially not now that he knew what had happened.
He couldn’t trust Orpheus. Or anyone else for that matter. But Orpheus was far from a painful reminder for him...he was, for better or for worse, a good companion. He was friendly and he wasn’t pushy and L liked him, even if he didn’t trust him. Of course, he’d already known that much, just from watching him. But now? Walking at his side rather than observing from the shadows? Now it was even more clear to him.
He had panicked at the compliment, to be honest. He hadn’t expected it to be given. So turning it back was all he could really hope to do. He glanced at Orpheus, and the smile reassured him that he’d done the right thing, somehow. He breathed a little easier at that, because somehow he didn’t want to hurt Orpheus, even if he didn’t know if they’d even stay together after this. He still didn’t want to make this unpleasant...was it already unpleasant? Was Orpheus only humoring him? It was so hard to tell, L didn’t know and he didn’t know how to find out. Still, he hoped this wasn’t too bad.
He looked back as Orpheus began to speak again, and he tilted his head, considering that with interest. If Orpheus was the heart and he was the brain...he wasn’t sure what that meant. Did it mean Orpheus planned on staying with him even after the lights? Would he have said that if he hadn’t? Wouldn’t he hen trying to keep his distance? Would he even be talking about his past, his stories, the things he used to love if this was goodbye? L hated that he was unsure, but he was. He just wanted to know what was happening next.
He tilted his head slightly as Orpheus continued, raising an eyebrow slightly. “War?” He asked, curious. “I haven’t heard that many epic poems, truthfully. But I would prefer not to be in one, in that case. In spite of how long I’ve been alive...I’d rahrwe stay that was as long as I can.”
He looked back at the road, eyes moving over it, scanning for any others that might have wandered into their path. He didn’t see anyone though...good.
A glance back at Orpheus. “Oh,” he said, a bit surprised at that. “There’s a story behind that?”
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Feb 25, 2021 16:46:13 GMT -5
They were, slowly but surely, figuring each other out. Orpheus was at a disadvantage, he knew. L had spent four hundred years getting to know him. And Orpheus was a lot more open about himself and his past than L was. Orpheus didn’t blame him. He didn’t know that L didn’t trust him, but he wouldn’t have been surprised to find out. They didn’t know each other. Orpheus trusted L because he knew there were countless times he could have killed him, and Orpheus wouldn’t have been able to do anything about it. Orpheus had never had such concrete abilities to attack L. And not poisoning their first meal together was a step, but it wasn’t the end all be all in gaining L’s trust. If Orpheus wanted that… he supposed he was going to have to let it come to him instead of seeking it out. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure he cared about having L’s trust. His companionship was more important. L’s comfort was more important. There were a lot of things that were more important than L handing away his trust.
Orpheus pushed the thought away. He would be careful next time he wanted to compliment L. It seemed that neither of them really knew what to do with compliments. Perhaps it was because neither had received on in a very long time. In Orpheus’ case, he had never been very good at accepting them, except perhaps about his music. And even then his normal response had usually been ‘I can teach you some chords, if you’d like.’
“I’d rather not have to fight,” Orpheus agreed softly, setting his sight straight ahead. “I’ve never much understood the point of war. I guess… well, I suppose you know that. You were there when I dodged the draft in Sparta.” He gave a small smile at that, then shook his head. “Still, wars make good subjects for poetry. There’s something about the idea of creating something beautiful from destruction that compels artists.” Orpheus himself hadn’t ever written any war poems or songs, but some of the ones he sang were about his time on the Argo. About the bloodshed there, if only because the crew had asked him to sing about their victories. His songs about those things tended to be more honest than most people wanted to hear.
“Yes, there’s a story behind it,” Orpheus replied, glancing back at L for a long moment. “I… spent a good part of my childhood raised by Hermes. He told me the story himself. When the world was new, he thought it would be fun to steal Apollo’s sheep. That’s part of how he came to be known as patron god of thieves, I suppose. Apollo chased him around the world many times until he finally caught him. And instead of giving the sheep up, Hermes proposed a trade. He would get to keep the sheep if he gave Apollo a new instrument. So he fashioned a lyre – the first one – this one – and traded it to Apollo. And when I first showed interest in music, Hermes took me to Apollo to learn how to play. When I finished learning… Apollo handed me the very same lyre Hermes had created for him a long time before.”
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Mar 18, 2021 16:25:43 GMT -5
The thing about getting to know Orpheus from afar was that he knew about him, but he didn’t really know him. He had learned more about him in a day by talking to him than he had in four hundred years by observing him, and he just kept discovering new things about him. They hadn’t been together for long...and so far, Orpheus hadn’t attacked. That meant nothing, though. He could easily be biding his time and waiting for L to trust him enough to not see an attack coming. He could be playing a long game...no, L couldn’t trust him just yet.
He didn’t know what to expect. The truth was that it seemed unlikely that Orpheus was dangerous, but he couldn’t take that chance. He’d been alive so long and he still was ready to die…he didn’t think he ever would be.
Compliments were confusing...he didn’t know how to react to them. That wasn’t new. He tended to just say I know when people told him he was smart and just stare at them whenever they said anything else...not that they usually did. He hadn’t received a compliment since long before he’d been cursed. Orpheus didn’t seem to know how to accept them either. He made a note of that in case it became relevant.
He nodded a little. He had never seen the point of war, either. “Yes, I remember.” He agreed. “They didn’t draft me. A plus of not existing, I suppose.” He considered for a long moment, then looked at Orpheus again. “I suppose that makes sense. Poetry tends to spring from pain. Humans find meaning in everything, it seems.”
He hadn’t heard Orpheus sing about war, and he had heard a lot of Orpheus’ music. They tended to be stories, tales from another time.
“You always sing about the past.” He said after a moment, tilting his head a little. He didn’t want to pry, but it was something he had noticed.
He fell silent a moment later, listening. He didn’t know the story, but he didn’t interrupt as Orpheus told it, just listened quietly.
“Sheep seem like they’d be hard to steal…” he said thoughtfully as Orpheus finished. “They’d need to be herded, I suppose. And they wouldn’t listen to you, so you’d have to find a way to make them, and then if they got lost no one would have them. Running away would be a pain.”
He fell silent, glancing at the lyre. “It’s old, then.” He murmured. “No wonder it matter to you so much.”
He shifted. Truthfully, he didn’t think he had a story quite that interesting. His life had been less interesting.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Mar 18, 2021 17:36:12 GMT -5
Orpheus knew he trusted too easily. He knew by now that L didn’t trust very easily at all. Orpheus hadn’t really expected him to trust him right away (after all, he had chosen to spend hundreds of years following Orpheus from the shadows. If he had been inclined to trust him, he likely would have emerged a lot sooner), but it turned out there were things that had to do with trust that Orpheus rarely gave so much as a second thought to. Of course you needed to trust someone to eat their food, but Orpheus hadn’t even considered that until L hadn’t eaten his food. He was still learning to exist in the same place as L, to exist and respect that he didn’t trust him. He didn’t know where the lines were – he supposed he would have to find a way to learn L’s boundaries without crossing them, but that would come in time. Assuming they stayed together.
Orpheus needed to stop assuming that they would continue travelling together once they reached the Northern Lights. He didn’t know that L wanted that, and if he let himself believe that he wouldn’t be alone after this… then he was just setting himself up to be crushed again. He couldn’t think about the future. It was… it was hard to think about what an eternity would be like completely alone. If L left… no. He wasn’t going down that train of thought right now.
“I was worried they would try to draft you,” Orpheus admitted, shaking his head just a little bit. “I didn’t know that you didn’t exist.” That had been… what, the second time Orpheus had seen L? It seemed like so long ago… they had both been so young, then. Odd, that so much had changed. Had they changed? Orpheus knew he had, but not as much as he would have anticipated in four hundred years. Perhaps it was because he hadn’t let himself be changed by anybody. He didn’t let anybody that close.
“I… suppose you’re right,” Orpheus murmured after a long moment, shaking his head just a little bit. “I think… it’s hard to think about the future. For everyone else in the world, there’s at least one certainty in their future. For us… there’s not. It’s easier to write about the things that have already happened, I think.” Maybe one day he would feel comfortable enough to write about the future. Or about the present. As soon as he found something to make of his life.
“I’ll be honest,” he added, laughing quietly, “I have no idea why Mr. Hermes stole them. But the lyre exists because of it, so… I suppose I’m not complaining.”
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Mar 21, 2021 14:29:55 GMT -5
L was paranoid. He knew that, on some level, but he couldn’t help it. Things were just so dangerous and he couldn’t help jumping to the worst possible scenario before all else. Had he always been like that…? He’d given the lyre back, or tried to, all those years ago. He hadn’t assumed Orpheus was trying to hurt him or trick him then, he had assumed Orpheus had lost it and was upset because of that. He knew now that he’d been wrong, but...that had still been his immediate assumption. What did that say about him? Had he changed over the years? Had he been changed?
He shook his head a little. So what if he had? This was who he was, for better or for worse. He supposed it was probably inconvenient, sometimes, but...it kept him safe. Safe was important.
He wasn’t making any assumptions. He had no idea what would happen when they made it to the Northern Lights. He didn’t see the point in assuming anything at all, not when he didn’t know Orpheus well enough to predict his decisions and actions. He tried to imagine leaving...not following Orpheus anymore. He couldn’t. Hundreds of years, and he’d never picked his direction, never chosen what he wanted to do, besides choosing to follow someone else. Hundreds of years, and he hadn’t said a word. He still thought the fact that his voice still worked was probably a symptom of his curse.
“They probably would have tried, if I had existed,” he said quietly, giving a small nod. “As it was, I was in no danger. I’m glad they failed to draft you. I was worried I would be forced to try and follow you into war…”
Would he have done it? He considered that for a moment. He thought...he thought perhaps he would have. Losing Orpheus, even all those years ago when he was barely used to following him, wasn’t something he’d wanted to consider.
He let the thought slide, listening to what Orpheus said next.
“Mm...I suppose so.” He murmured, studying the other immortal’s face. “Still...from what I’ve been able to tell, from studying others...it’s been my observation that people who are generally happy speak of the present, and people who are generally unhappy or dissatisfied in some way speak more of the past. Likely because, in our minds, we think of the good things that happened to us and think it was a better time then, or that bad things hadn’t yet happened, or just that we idolize the past and demonize the present. It’s easier to think things were better when they’ve already happened.”
He tilted his head, meeting Orpheus’ eyes. “My point is...are you unhappy, Orpheus?”
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Mar 21, 2021 23:11:49 GMT -5
“I would have asked you not to,” Orpheus murmured, blinking in surprise at the conviction with which the words had left his lips. “War is a terrible thing, and… even if we can’t die, I wouldn’t have wanted to lead you into bloodshed. Even if I was forced into it…” he shook his head. “I don’t think you would have listened to me, but…” he glanced at the ground, adjusting the weight of the lyre on his shoulder. He took a deep breath in, forcing himself to keep walking forward. “Either way… I’m glad it didn’t happen. I’m glad neither of us have needed to experience war.” He knew it was a distinct possibility in the future. No matter how many wars were fought, there were always going to be more. Perhaps that was why so many cultures had a personification of war that they worshipped. As kind as humans could be, they could be equally bloodthirsty. Maybe one day they wouldn’t be able to escape war. So far… they had. And Orpheus was grateful.
He kept walking, listening to what L was saying, but he didn’t really know where he was going with it until he got there. And then Orpheus stopped, his hands falling to his eyes and his brow furrowing.
“Oh,” he murmured, the sound scarcely more than a tiny, surprised noise. He hadn’t been expecting that. He hadn’t thought about his own happiness, not in a very, very long time. If he thought about it too hard… he was reminded of what he should have had. He should have died and found Eurydice again, should have played in the Underworld and brought light there, should have been with the woman he loved, even if she didn’t remember him yet. She would, eventually. He hoped she hadn’t forgotten, but… he knew Hades. He knew having her remember was a liability.
“I don’t know,” he whispered truthfully, looking up to meet L’s gaze. “This curse was… specifically designed to make me miserable. Hades knew the one thing I wanted was something I could only have when I died, but… I’m not the same person I was four hundred years ago. And I don’t want to die, but…” he trailed off, gently fingering the strings of his lyre, though he didn’t pluck them. “I miss humanity,” he said eventually. “And… I can’t be part of it anymore. I’m scared of being alone, and thinking about the present means acknowledging that I probably will be, eventually. You don’t know me, I don’t… know you, and to think we’ll travel together forever is… unrealistic, even if it is a nice fantasy. The past is the only time I don’t have to worry about living in a world that’s too big for me all by myself. The past is smaller than now… and I have a feeling the world is just going to keep getting bigger.”
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Mar 21, 2021 23:59:03 GMT -5
L blinked, startled at the reply he hadn’t anticipated. And yet...it fit Orpheus perfectly. He could imagine it, imagine hiding around a corner, watching, invisible as always...and hearing Orpheus speak. Érebos, he might have said, don’t follow me for this part. Érebos, wait here for me. Érebos, you don’t need to see this bit. Érebos, go home. Would L have listened if he’d been told those words? Or was Orpheus right to think he would have followed him into war, regardless of the warnings? He didn’t know. It had been a long time since then...he’d been younger, still unsure of what the curse meant, unsure of Orpheus’ role in this, half convinced he’d deserved his sentence. Still...that was when he had returned the lyre.
He was a contradiction. He was paranoid, he assumed the worst, he didn’t even trust Orpheus not to poison him after four hundred years of observation. Yet he’d returned the lyre, he’d followed him even after he clearly was not a threat, he’d sacrificed the places he wanted to go to go where he did.
It didn’t matter. He didn’t understand anyone else, why should he understand himself? He was human, or at least he had been, once. Were you still human without your own mortality? Whatever he was...he didn’t understand himself, or Orpheus, or anyone. He was just doing his best and hoping it was enough.
He met Orpheus’ eyes. He didn’t know what to expect...the question had been a personal one, not to mention deep. He had asked it because it had been in the back of his mind ever since he noticed what Orpheus sang of, but he’d never expected to ask it to his face.
He didn’t answer as Orpheus spoke, and then not for a long moment after he was finished. Perhaps he was making sure there was nothing Orpheus intended to add...or perhaps he was only trying to process the reply. Now that he had it, well...he realized he hadn’t expected Orpheus to answer, or if he did say anything at all, to skirt the question or lie or turn it around on L. He searched Orpheus’ eyes, only barely realizing that they had stopped moving. The most surprising thing was, he believed the other immortal. He didn’t think he was lying.
“I believe...I understand,” he said at last, his voice soft and very serious. Orpheus hadn’t lied. L would show the same respect. “Or perhaps not. This curse wasn’t built to make me unhappy, it wasn’t built for me at all. Yet...I was human once too.”
He pursed his lips a little without meaning to. “I...suppose unhappy is the wrong word.”
He broke off, the words to explain failing him. He tried again.
“Eternity is a long time to be alive,” he whispered. “Especially alone. I’m frightened of a meaningless existence. I always knew I would likely die alone, but I never expected to live that way.”
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Mar 22, 2021 0:34:57 GMT -5
Orpheus noted the way L pursed his lips, noted the careful way he watched him, how he did everything so deliberately. Although L certainly had some eccentricities on the surface – the way he didn’t wear shoes, the way he had sat down when they’d stopped for food – but those weren’t enough to know the other immortal by. There were thousands more quirks, Orpheus was sure, hidden just under the surface. He was likely never going to see them, never going to understand L as a whole person, just… as Érebos. He didn’t have words for the weight that created in his chest. He wanted to know L, wanted to spend enough time with him to have that privilege. He didn’t know how long they were going to be together, and he really needed to stop thinking about that…
“Oh.” His voice was soft as he listened. In truth, he hadn’t expected L to respond. He had thought he had unintentionally overshared, that his forthright, genuine answer would be enough to scare L off. Just as L had things that Orpheus was slowly discovering, Orpheus did, too. That he was genuine, sometimes too much so, that he trusted too easily and handed his emotions away on a silver platter. He was open in a way even he didn’t expect sometimes. He closed his eyes for a long moment, then lifted his gaze back to meet L’s.
They were both human, once. Were they not human anymore? What made someone human? They could still die, theoretically. Neither of them were going to, not unless something bad happened, but Orpheus knew better than most that tragedy could strike at any time. But both of them had been deprived of the connection that created humanity. L more so than Orpheus, but neither of them had anyone around to keep them human. Orpheus had his music, he had his past, but… what had kept L human. Orpheus was afraid he was never going to find out.
“You have a long time ahead of you to find meaning,” Orpheus whispered, catching L’s gaze. “I can’t promise you will, but… there will be time. If you want to try.” Would Orpheus ever see whatever L managed to do that was meaningful? He hoped so, but… he didn’t know. All he knew was that L was the one person in the world he could connect with in the way he wanted. The only person he could be candid with, because anyone else would think him insane or heretical.
“I won’t… tell you to stay. I won’t even ask you to, because you’ve been following me for so long that… that you deserve to choose where to go from here. That you should get to decide for yourself what you want, without my personal feelings getting in the way. But… but if you want to stay, I wouldn’t object to travelling together. And… I know it’s early to say. I know we don’t know each other; I know that we may not get along, that… that you don’t trust me, and I’m okay with that, but… but if you want to stay, you have a place at my side. If only so we don’t have to be alone.” He looked away, brow furrowing as he closed his eyes.
“I’m sorry. I’m not nearly as good at… at saying the right thing when there’s no music.”
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Mar 22, 2021 1:08:19 GMT -5
Every single human being that had ever been born had thousands of quirks and things that set them apart. Orpheus was no exception to that rule. He spoke softly, his brow creased when he was thinking, and his music...his music. L couldn’t really begin to describe that, and he’d only ever heard it from a distance. And perhaps after this journey,..perhaps never again. He didn’t know. He wasn’t going to force Orpheus to let him stay. Did he even want to stay?
There were so many people he would never meet. And of all the people he would never understand...there was exactly one person he ever had a chance of actually coming to know, really know.
Orpheus hadn’t overshared, in L’s opinion. He had merely answered the question. And L had felt that he owed his own perspective if he was going to ask foe Orpheus’ so he had shared it, even if it made him feel vulnerable and nervous to do it.
They were very different people. Orpheus was open, honest, trusting...and L was closed, a liar, and suspicious. Orpheus led, L followed. Orpheus sang. L stayed silent. And so on. Even if he wanted to stay...it was possible they were too different to coexist. In which case, it would be much better to part on good terms, not wait until they hated each other.
He still thought about the curse’s wording, sometimes. How it had said they could be killed, under certain circumstances. They’d survived this long, somehow. And the longer they lived, the more L seemed to cling to life.
Even if that wasn’t enough to make him human. He didn’t know, he didn’t know what made someone human and what made them someone else. He just knew that, out of the two of them, it was Orpheus who had come close to acting human. Orpheus, who played for people, who ate their food and visited them and spoke with them...L was a shadow, little more.
He hesitated, then gave a small nod. He had nothing but time, now. They both did.
“I suppose, of all the things we’re missing out on...we do have time,” he murmured, looking away from Orpheus and down at the ground instead. “I don’t think I know what meaning is, or where to start looking, but…” he shook his head. If he couldn’t find any meaning in his existence, what hope did the rest of humanity have?
He blinked, caught off guard by Orpheus as he continued, dark eyes flicking up to meet his, head immediately tilted as he processed it. Orpheus...was making him an offer.
And he didn’t know how to react.
He was...wanted. Perhaps merely as a buffer against boredom, but Orpheus was telling him it was alright to stay, if he chose to. That he had a choice. He had chosen to travel North, and he had thought that would be it, the last decision he was allowed. He had thought, if he stayed with Orpheus, that he would be following again, perhaps not in the shadows but not side by side, either.
“You’re right, I don’t trust you,” he said quietly, catching Orpheus’ gaze with his own. “I can’t. And I don’t know you, and you don’t know me, and it’s possible I’ve forgotten how to be a person. However...I wouldn’t object to helping you fight the loneliness of existence. If you agree to help me fight it, too.”
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Mar 22, 2021 1:30:53 GMT -5
Orpheus didn’t know what he expected out of this. He certainly hadn’t expected them to be so open with each other after only a few days of travel, but… they had had 400 years to be strangers. Perhaps that time together, even if they weren’t directly together, made it a little bit easier to get to the deeper things. Perhaps it was just that they were desperately lonely, that having someone to talk to who could even possibly understand was something of a breakthrough. The sort of relief they couldn’t get anywhere else without being locked up or thrown out. They couldn’t be themselves, unaltered, around any other living being, except, perhaps, the gods. And Orpheus doubted, somehow, that L knew the gods. Orpheus did, he had spent much of his childhood with them, but the world was getting bigger, and they hadn’t visited. Orpheus hadn’t seen any of them in a very long time.
Well… that wasn’t true. He saw Persephone in every flower he walked by, every blossom that couldn’t exist without her. He heard Apollo in his music, the bright laugh the god had given when he had gotten something right, when he had surprised him with a melody even Music himself hadn’t thought of. He saw Hermes more often than almost any other god. In the traveler at the side of an inn, in every place he stopped to call home, however briefly. But it was Hades he couldn’t escape. He saw Hades in every minute that stretched too long, every ache in his heart, in every moment someone died while Orpheus continued to live. He couldn’t get rid of Hades. Perhaps he wasn’t alone so much as stifled by Death.
“I thought I knew what meaning was,” Orpheus admitted softly, lifting his gaze to meet L’s. “I searched for it and it came to me. But… that was a very long time ago. I don’t know if it was meaning or not, but… if it’s meaning you’re looking for… perhaps it would be easier to look with someone at your side. If you’ll have me, I mean. If that’s what you choose.”
Orpheus had meant what he had said when he’d told L that he would follow him, if that was what L wanted. If he would rather have a shadow than a companion. Orpheus would learn how to live in the darkness, to follow unnoticed. If it kept him from being alone, if it meant that neither of them lost each other, even if they didn’t want to travel together… yes, Orpheus would become Érebos for L.
“I won’t ask you to trust me,” Orpheus returned softly, turning his gaze from L to the path stretching out before them. They still had a long way to go before they made it to the lights, if they were even more than a story. “I won’t ask you to be a person, if that’s not what you want. But I’ll walk beside you…” he had made that promise before. He had broken it. No… Hades had broken it for him. “Or behind you. Or wherever you want… but if you want to stay together, I won’t leave. I don’t… want to be alone, either. And maybe… maybe it will work. Even if you never trust me. Even if we continue being strangers together.” And maybe, Orpheus added in his head, I’ll start singing of the present. Maybe… maybe I’ll have a future to look forward to.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Mar 22, 2021 2:31:01 GMT -5
L didn’t know what he was doing didn’t know what had come over him and gently pried the truth from his hands for all to see. Or not all. Only one person, Orpheus, to see. Did Orpheus realize how unlike him this was? How his heart bear quickly, as though it sensed the danger a single misstep neither bring? Could he know that for L, this was than he had given even Watari for a long time?
Of course he couldn’t know those things. He probably never would but the truth was...L was starving for something he had no name for. It was like a deficiency, something he knew he needed but didn’t know how to get. Only now, somehow, now that he had tasted it, he understood,
Humans were not meant to be shadows. It killed them, slowly. Which as part of the reason he could never ask Orpheus to be one.
Where Orpheus saw Persephone, L saw flowers that were doomed to wilt and die. Where Orpheus saw Apollo, L saw music that would fade with time and be forgotten. Where Orpheus saw Hermes, L saw a lost soul and felt for it, because he was lost, too. And where Orpheus saw Hades...L saw inevitability. He saw the ending of a story, the last breath of a unique soul, the pointlessness he fled from. If he craved meaning, it was what Orpheus called Hades that he feared. He had seen how the world changed, how the things he had once cared about were buried and forgotten, how everything had an end. Perhaps it wasn’t dying he feared, after all. It was dying without having lived first.
He met Orpheus’ eyes, not answering right away. He wondered whether what was true. Would he be easier to find meaning in his existence with Orpheus at his side? Would it be easier if he wasn’t alone? Or would it be harder? He didn’t know...he didn’t have the experience to know.
He didn’t want a shadow. He wasn’t sure what he wanted, but he knew that much. Orpheus was a person, and L knew better than anyone that there was a price to becoming a shadow for too long. He might never have come out if Orpheus hadn’t convinced him to...if that eclipse had never occurred. But he had come out. And now, he wouldn’t force anyone to replace him, not ever.
He didn’t know what had come over them, to speak of this here. They might never stand here again. They might never walk this road, at least not together. And if they did...L didn’t like to think there was a chance they would be enemies at some point, but he couldn’t allow himself to discount the possibility.
He listened. Orpheus was persuasive...and not in the way L had come to expect. He was persuasive in how genuine he seemed to be, how honest he seemed in his words. How much he seemed to believe what he was saying.
“I accept your offer,” L murmured, meeting Orpheus’ eyes. “Even if we’re no more than a defense against eternity, I will fulfill that role to the best of. My ability. And...beside me is alright. As far as where you can be.”
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Mar 22, 2021 2:58:04 GMT -5
It was going to take a while for Orpheus to understand just how differently his thoughts worked than L’s. They were two very, very different people, and where Orpheus saw opportunity and promise, L seemed to see danger. And yet… here they were, Orpheus trusting L implicitly and L unable to trust even that Orpheus wouldn’t poison him, sharing truths they had both kept locked up in their chests for too long. Humans weren’t meant to live forever. Plenty wished to, plenty yearned for immortality, but it seemed the only way to get immortality was to be punished with it. Ironic, that Orpheus and L held a gift that thousands probably wanted, but that Orpheus, at least, wanted to be rid of. He didn’t want death, but he did want the possibility of a life that meant something. Just like L, it seemed.
Somehow, even after all this time, Orpheus had hope. For four hundred years, what he had done to save spring seemed to have worked. Persephone came back every year, the flowers bloomed, and the fall came, temperate and kind, seemingly without issue. Orpheus had lost everything, but he had given the world a gift. And the fact that his gift hadn’t yet gone sour? That was proof enough that there was something to look forward to, that he had made something out of his existence. Even if there was nothing left to do with it now. What would happen if he decided to lay down and let eternity wash over him? What if he never got up again? It was something he would have been likely to try were it not for L. L… made things more complicated, but he also made things better. Orpheus wasn’t going to give up until he was absolutely certain there was no way around being completely alone. Perhaps he was wrong about why he had hope. Perhaps he had hope because a stranger had followed him for four hundred years, a stranger who had finally stepped into the light. L was a shadow, but he was also hope.
“Meaning used to be other people,” Orpheus finally admitted, shaking his head. “I’m not sure it can mean that for us, anymore. But I think… we’ll find something. Eventually. And… maybe it won’t be where we think it will be.” He offered L a small smile, uncertain if his words were enough, or even if L wanted to hear it. Did L want hope, or did he just want the present?
Orpheus didn’t know that L was considering the possibility of them becoming enemies. For Orpheus, the worst-case scenario was parting ways and losing each other forever, the last human being who could understand what it was like to live as they did. It could get worse, much worse, but the though didn’t even cross his mind. Perhaps that was one more indication of how different they were.
“A defense against eternity,” Orpheus echoed, giving a small nod. “I like that. I find… I hope it lasts, at least for a little bit.” He didn’t know what to expect, but he couldn’t deny that it was nice to imagine a future where he didn’t have to face everything alone.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Apr 11, 2021 15:17:14 GMT -5
L might always have a hard time understanding why Orpheus trusted him. How he could trust him, when trust was so dangerous. He didn’t know L, not that well. Really...it ought to have been switched. L was the one who had reason or trust Orpheus, after observing him for four hundred years. Orpheus had every reason to be suspicious of L, since he’d barely even seen him in all that time. And here they were anyway...L, wary to even eat anything Orpheus hadn’t tried first, Orpheus willing to turn his back to L without worrying.
Did he want to be rid of his immortality? He didn’t buy that the shortness of life equaled meaning, but he did understand why it had been a punishment. It wasn’t a kindness, immortality. It was piercing loneliness and the touch of insanity stalking you until you couldn’t evade it any longer.
But Hades had made a mistake. He had cursed not one, but two people. If L hadn’t followed...if he hadn’t made that choice, what would have happened? If he’d fled, would they have lost their minds by now? He thought that was possible, isolation could drive even the strongest of minds to madness, and he didn’t count himself among those.
The truth was, he owed Orpheus. His life, his sanity, everything. And that made him nervous. He didn’t know how to owe people, not really...he had kept out of the way, mostly. Did Orpheus even realize what L owed him? Did he know?
L had no idea what Orpheus thought of him. Hope...could he possibly be hope for someone else? How? He didn’t know if he had hope or not...he hadn’t given up, of course, but was that the same as having hope for the future, or was it merely stubbornness that drove him to continue?
Or...was it possible Orpheus was hope, too?
A stranger, cursed. A stranger, lost. A stranger who played music and didn’t stop trying to help people even when he himself couldn’t be helped. L believed he didn’t trust because he didn’t have reason to, but perhaps he was a liar. Perhaps he didn’t trust because he was more afraid that Orpheus was trustworthy than that he wasn’t.
He listened quietly, considering the words. “I don’t know if we’ll find meaning...I don’t know if there’s meaning to be found,” he admitted. “But then, that isn’t because we're immortal. It’s just because of the way the world is. Besides, what would count as meaning, anyway? I don’t know. I don’t think I knew before, either.”
If meaning existed, it was possible it couldn’t be found by immortals. But then, maybe only immortals could find it. Eternity was a very long time to find answers. He may not have chosen this path, he may not even choose to keep it, given the chance to be rid of it, but he could make the most of it couldn’t he?
“Perhaps it will,” he murmured, glancing at Orpheus again. “I can’t say for sure. But neither of us want to be alone. Unless tragedy strikes, unless we can’t actually stand each other, unless...well. We have as much chance as we ever did, I suppose.”
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Apr 13, 2021 1:18:11 GMT -5
Orpheus didn’t spend much time thinking about insanity. It wasn’t something he wanted to contemplate. He didn’t value his mind as much as L valued his, but… he also knew that his grip on sanity would have been far more tenuous without L there. Without being able to at least hope that someone else knew what his life was like, that someone else shared his experiences. People weren’t meant to be alone, but they were also hard and suspicious, they didn’t trust things that they didn’t understand. Orpheus and L could try to search for connection with the people they ran across, but what happened when they didn’t age? They would be cast out as witches or demons or worse. They would be killed. They would be experimented on. Orpheus knew what the risks were, no matter how much faith he had that people were good. Part of staying alive was being afraid of what you didn’t understand. Part of humanity was wanting the things you couldn’t have. Orpheus wasn’t going to make a character judgement about anyone who wanted immortality, but it was hard to find much good about it. And yet… he still didn’t want to die. He wanted to keep moving forward and exploring the world, and getting to know L, if the other immortal let him.
It wasn’t a matter of owing, in Orpheus’ mind. He knew that L’s presence made his life better, even when he didn’t know him. If he made L’s life better, too… then that was all he could ask. Then maybe they would be able to get along well enough to keep traveling together. To try to find some sort of meaning, and to keep the insanity at bay.
“Even if there isn’t any meaning to find… I think it’s a very human thing to keep looking. And personally… I don’t think I’m ready to give up on being human yet.” Was that too heavy a thought? Well… it was out there now. They were basically human. The only difference between humanity and the two of them was time. Life. They still bled the same.
“Tragedy is inevitable sometimes,” he murmured, brow furrowing just a little bit. “But that’s no reason to avoid trying it. I think… having company will be nice.” Was it too early to get his hopes up? Would it just hurt later if it didn’t work out? Well… he knew the answer to that second question. Yes, it would hurt. But he wouldn’t regret giving it a chance. He wouldn’t regret letting himself have hope. If he had learned anything about life, it was that it was better to have hope.
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Orpheus hadn’t been prepared for the cold. Well… he had been in cold places before; it was hard to live as long as he had and avoid it entirely, but he had never been this far North. He wished he had bought more furs in the last town they’d stopped in. But burning underneath the cold, warmer and brighter than anything else, was the excitement. The anticipation. He knew this was L’s trip – L’s destination. Yet… after so long spent talking to him, getting to know him… he felt a little bit like it was his destination, too. They had seen small bits of the lights already, though Orpheus had done his best not to look. He wanted them to be as magical as possible when he saw them for real. Which… judging from the sun’s position in the sky… was going to be soon.
“Almost there,” he murmured, tilting his head so he could see L, a small smile tugging at his features.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Apr 14, 2021 0:53:37 GMT -5
Orpheus hadn’t been this far North, and by extension, neither had L. He’d only ever been where Orpheus went, after they were cursed, anyway. Before that...well. He didn’t know what Orpheus’ life before that had been like. He supposed he could ask, someday, but he wasn’t sure if he should. Would the question be welcome? Did Orpheus want to think about the past, before the curse?
It felt, sometimes, like he’d been killed when it had hit him. Like the curse, in order to give him immortality, had had to destroy a part of him, too. He didn’t know if that was true, but he thought it might be.
But that didn’t matter now. What mattered was the fact that they were, at long last, nearly there. He looked at the sky...then dragged his gaze down, not wanting to spoil it. He glanced at Orpheus, taking in the small smile...and dipped his head. “Almost,” he agreed, trying hard not to look up. To catch just a glimpse of the thing he’d wanted to see after four hundred years of seeing only what Orpheus chose to visit.
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