... You have spoken of him as a spirit before. [She murmurs, carefully, amidst the awareness, of sitting there with their clasped hands.] But I did not truly understand the nature of your link, or the purpose of those requirements.
[The fact that he could go to another plane and wait and be safe until Lup would have to call him back like this, she knew; but she had not realized his manifestations were part of a service, an intentional link, rather than something purely created from Lup herself.]
... Is this... okay, for me to be so close to all of this?
[Probably a bit late for that question, but the realization hadn't hit immediately.]
It's fine. As long as you don't disturb the circle, your being here can't affect anything. And even if it could, he'd recognize you're not a threat.
[That isn't the purpose of this, either.]
What I always find interesting is that the feywild is transient- like with any universe, it's a plane of existence that manifests separate from all other universes, all other worlds. So the feywild that I first summoned him from on my homeworld hundreds of years ago isn't the same as the one I called him from in the fleet, and that isn't the same as the feywild that exists in this place. It's never the same spirit- it has its own thoughts, and memories, and experiences that exist outside of ours. But somehow, every time, it's still Ditto.
[She glances over at Honerva, a meaningful smile crossing her lips.]
[Interesting, steeped in layers and possibility, and context. Honerva remains quiet for a moment, head slightly lowered, allowing Lup's words to sink in, before her eyes slowly open, to catch that smile.]
... yes. That is very interesting.
[It wasn't even the word--the right word, really, to convey the depth of it, though the shift in her measured tone knows the weight of it. Lup knew what she was doing, gently tugging at her curiosity. All her life, she'd had this real other plane to interact with. Her hand gets a light squeeze.]
I think... that the universe has infinite possibilities, but that doesn't mean that constants don't still exist. And there isn't much use in worrying about those infinite possibilities, because infinity doesn't mean anything when the only potential that should matter is the one you experience.
[She reaches out to carefully stir the burning coals with an unlit incense stick, red sparks flitting in the air and mingling with the arcane energy that is still trying to become a cat.]
Ditto is Ditto because he's my familiar. For the two of us, the constant is me. In every universe you exist in, the constant should always be you.
[So maybe there's a Lup somewhere out there with a familiar that likes to be a hawk. Or maybe it goes by a different name. Maybe it's female instead. Maybe she trained as a bard and never learned that spell in the first place. Maybe she's the mortal and Taako's the lich.
And maybe there's a Honerva who got her happy ending, maybe she reconciled with Zarkon, maybe she found her son. Maybe there's one who lost everything, and then some, and never found a path to redemption.
None of it matters. Those people, those different versions- it isn't them. To want to be other is to deny themselves.]
[What a way to strike a chord. Honerva remains quiet for a few moments after Lup speaks, ears lowered, the words resonating, free hand curled at her chest as she reflects on Lup's reasoning for the theory. At the core of it all, identity; who she was and who she had been and who she may have been meant to be, strewn about different stars, ones that haunted her in whispers, even as she worked on building her new self. All universes unto themselves, with their own histories, interacting in their own ways.
Unless this had been her path, all along. To be pulled away from it all unexpectedly, to find ... solace, in another.
There was much value and potential in the present, now. This present. The person sitting at her side, holding her hand, who had known just what to say when she saw her faltering. Always willing to inject meaning when her vision was clouded. This Lup who always knew her own self.
She exhales, softly, eyes opening again, though she smiles once more, feeling -- well, proud, of Lup, really, as grateful as she is toward her.]
... Quite a belief to have. Your views of such things are always so... enlightening. Perhaps I had always been turned toward the prospects of the infinite. The promise of knowledge that might only be found beyond the veil we could see, those secrets just waiting to be discovered. Always looking outward, and not... inward.
[No wonder she'd lost herself. What a deep, dark, rabbit hole to fall into for untold years.]
Well, thank god you have me around to spin you 180 degrees, you big nerd.
[Lup reaches out with her free hand to poke Honerva irreverently in the forehead. Too serious, way too serious. She's glad, though- that Honerva understands, that she is taking those words to heart. They're not without meaning, not for either of them.]
I've heard it's good practice to look both ways before you cross any road.
Her ears flatten, straighten, the little flutter of a moment's confusion as she processes Lup's response. It was not the first time Lup had ever poked her in such a way and not likely the last. In this case, Honerva couldn't really help it; taking certain aspects all too seriously was part of how she interpreted the world. Especially with such a lesson being imparted here. She had to find meaning in such things or else be forever pining for what was gone.
But Lup was ever a reminder as well, that even such considerations need not be so dire. Not while they were here, able to speak freely like this. She exhales softly, trying to only breathe around that weight she carried in her chest.]
... Indeed. When did you get so wise?
[A light playfulness, even. Lup, ever the teacher.]
[Honerva pauses for a moment, though makes a soft sound of her amusement in her acknowledgement of the banter in progress. It was about the reaction she had anticipated, anyway, a chance to lighten the mood before she inevitably veered them in another serious direction.
It is better than satisfactory, though there is far more nuance to grasp.
[Let alone having enough concentration to allow for the language to be heard at all, the outside factor to all of this. Still... there is warmth in that praise and she accepts it, with a slight dip of her head. To know that the effort alone is still worth something has certainly been part of the 180 degree mindset. And hey, not bad for only a few months worth of practice in between everything else they were working on. There was still far to go.
She closes her eyes again, taking in the soothing properties of the ritual and sensing, there, the progress of the familiar.]
Aside from that, however... I have also wondered, if there is a day that the two of you consider your own. To be... celebrated.
[Even knowing what she does of their history, surely they'd have more context for such a thing than she would, is what she thinks.]
Implying that every day isn't a valid day for celebrating us?
[Probably not the answer she was looking for, but it's about the level of seriousness she seems to give to that particular subject. Honerva's welcome to push for it if she likes, though.]
[Huh. It had been a while since she had brushed against Lup's walls like that, and to the amusement she only falls silent for a few moments. Perhaps it was warranted; it wasn't fair to ask such a question of someone as changeable as Lup, who had gone through so much.]
I thought it might be... nice, to build a new tradition. If that is something you would want.
[Lup considers it a moment. Honerva is making an effort, here, and she can acknowledge that much. And who knows, maybe it could be fun. It's been a long, long time, after all.]
I don't know how well the calendar would translate here, but we picked our own when we were 12. [That age, if Honerva remembers, is significant for the both of them, but Lup especially.] Midsummer, the day before the festival- so we'd always have a party, even if no one was around to celebrate us.
[And there was really only ever one person who did. She died a long, long time ago, leaving behind only a handful of good memories and a flawless turkey recipe.]
[The memories of others stand out far more in her mind than her own. Her time spent with Lup's had particularly had left impressions, all overwhelming in the layers of sensation and experience. The remnants of her own life were not nearly as rich, not when they were hardly her own memories. Her husband's impressions of her. That's what it had been.
So now she listens, nodding at the familiarity of the age, the unspoken significance there.]
... I admit that my grasp of any calendar system is not sufficient.
[None of the ones she was accustomed to would be relevant here. She was less certain about... how to create a new birthday tradition, but she wanted it to mean something, going forward.]
But I should like to learn yours. Perhaps we may find a way to determine what would align with what exists here.
Ah, shit. For real? It's been like over a hundred years since I paid much attention to that calendar.
[She'd gotten snippets here and there, while in the umbrella, but it was mostly just to track how much of the year had passed. It's not as if people were always saying what day or month it was when she was conveniently in earshot, and when she'd been lost in Wave Echo cave, alone in the dark, there'd been no way to know any of that. Time had lost all meaning. When she woke in the fleet the old calendar no longer mattered, so this is the first time she'd given it any thought since.]
I can try to remember, but... you might be better off asking Taako for that one. He actually lived in that world.
... I see. Perhaps that is a conversation we can all have together.
[It did concern the both of them, after all, and the whole point was to... make some meaning of time, to build that future, even if it was considerably harder for her and Lup to conceptualize in some ways. And probably not the best for Taako either, losing half of his heart like that and getting smushed back together.]
Might be a good plan. Honestly, anything involving home ought to involve Taako. He's seen way more of the world than I have, knows tidbits about the culture and regions that I didn't get to experience. You can learn different things from him than you can from me.
[And it's not like she's trying to artificially force them together - they can develop their own relationship, on their own terms. But to her, Honerva is family now. Just like Taako will always be. And her family getting along, trusting one another, is always precious to her.]
That is fair. I hope... that he will be willing to indulge in such things with us. Any time a conversation becomes too... in depth for his liking, he's all but racing out of the room.
[Hard for her not to have some wariness at potentially spooking him instead, as much as things had improved considerably between them.]
You can't push Taako, most days. Getting close to him is a trail of breadcrumbs, that's just how it is. It's lucky you've got a long life ahead of you! That'll give you a leg up over most people.
[She gives Honerva's hand a meaningful squeeze, her tone shifting subtly- quieter.]
Try to be patient with him, okay? It's worth it, I promise.
[Honerva falls quiet for a moment, letting the reassurance sink in. Couldn't deny that it was needed, and Lup always just seemed to know, when it was, reading her as if on instinct. For Lup she could be better, because no one else held her whole heart just like this.
She couldn't afford to not be patient, when they had both been so patient with her.]
Perhaps it is because I am eager.
[A smile in the words. Not merely an attempt, but an aspiration, to wait, to endure and not feel as though she was failing in some way.]
I know that in this way he and I are similar. He has his own... choices, to make. But you are with us.
Yeah, I know. But hey, you know what they say! You can't hurry love.
[Her tone shifts back to whimsical, but her words are no less genuine; Taako may not say it, he may not even show it, but he does love, just as strongly and purely as anyone can. His way of showing it is as unique as the rest of him, that's all.]
[Can't hurry love. What a phrase, for the starved of it to live by. She doesn't really know what or who they are that Lup references so often that supposedly say such things. But it is Lup who says it and for it she is still wise, and that is enough for now.
By the end of Lup's words, she's the one who follows that up with the return squeeze of her hand.]
[The rest of the hour passes by quickly enough, filled with small talk, long stretches of silence, Lup quietly filling the brazier with more incense at timed intervals until the pile is fully depleted. As the last stick burns and fizzles out, and the spell reaches its conclusion, the arcane energy swirls around in the center.
Releasing Honerva's hand, she reaches out and lifts the brazier out of the way, letting the last of the smoke coalesce with that same energy. In a matter of seconds, that smoke forms into a silhouette... and then solidifies, finally, into the shape of a cat.
Ditto yawns, stretches, and rolls over the glyphs on the floor, displaying his belly and pawing the air, making Lup huff a laugh.]
You asshole. You make us wait all this time and the first chance you get, you're covered in chalk.
[She can't even fake sounding annoyed about it. It's just... really, really good to see him again.]
[ It's not so long of a time, as much as it might seem so while in the moment. Certainly a baby lesson on patience, of sensing him there, waiting for the moment of arrival. When Lup laughs, she does as well, mostly drinking in the sight of a reunion. ]
Well, there was likely not much chance of doing that where he's been, was there?
[ She doesn't know. But odd spirit that he is, perhaps he is happy too, in his own way to be drawn forth and to become... companionable. ]
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[The fact that he could go to another plane and wait and be safe until Lup would have to call him back like this, she knew; but she had not realized his manifestations were part of a service, an intentional link, rather than something purely created from Lup herself.]
... Is this... okay, for me to be so close to all of this?
[Probably a bit late for that question, but the realization hadn't hit immediately.]
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[That isn't the purpose of this, either.]
What I always find interesting is that the feywild is transient- like with any universe, it's a plane of existence that manifests separate from all other universes, all other worlds. So the feywild that I first summoned him from on my homeworld hundreds of years ago isn't the same as the one I called him from in the fleet, and that isn't the same as the feywild that exists in this place. It's never the same spirit- it has its own thoughts, and memories, and experiences that exist outside of ours. But somehow, every time, it's still Ditto.
[She glances over at Honerva, a meaningful smile crossing her lips.]
That's interesting, isn't it?
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... yes. That is very interesting.
[It wasn't even the word--the right word, really, to convey the depth of it, though the shift in her measured tone knows the weight of it. Lup knew what she was doing, gently tugging at her curiosity. All her life, she'd had this real other plane to interact with. Her hand gets a light squeeze.]
Why do you believe that is?
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[She reaches out to carefully stir the burning coals with an unlit incense stick, red sparks flitting in the air and mingling with the arcane energy that is still trying to become a cat.]
Ditto is Ditto because he's my familiar. For the two of us, the constant is me. In every universe you exist in, the constant should always be you.
[So maybe there's a Lup somewhere out there with a familiar that likes to be a hawk. Or maybe it goes by a different name. Maybe it's female instead. Maybe she trained as a bard and never learned that spell in the first place. Maybe she's the mortal and Taako's the lich.
And maybe there's a Honerva who got her happy ending, maybe she reconciled with Zarkon, maybe she found her son. Maybe there's one who lost everything, and then some, and never found a path to redemption.
None of it matters. Those people, those different versions- it isn't them. To want to be other is to deny themselves.]
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Unless this had been her path, all along. To be pulled away from it all unexpectedly, to find ... solace, in another.
There was much value and potential in the present, now. This present. The person sitting at her side, holding her hand, who had known just what to say when she saw her faltering. Always willing to inject meaning when her vision was clouded. This Lup who always knew her own self.
She exhales, softly, eyes opening again, though she smiles once more, feeling -- well, proud, of Lup, really, as grateful as she is toward her.]
... Quite a belief to have. Your views of such things are always so... enlightening. Perhaps I had always been turned toward the prospects of the infinite. The promise of knowledge that might only be found beyond the veil we could see, those secrets just waiting to be discovered. Always looking outward, and not... inward.
[No wonder she'd lost herself. What a deep, dark, rabbit hole to fall into for untold years.]
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[Lup reaches out with her free hand to poke Honerva irreverently in the forehead. Too serious, way too serious. She's glad, though- that Honerva understands, that she is taking those words to heart. They're not without meaning, not for either of them.]
I've heard it's good practice to look both ways before you cross any road.
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Her ears flatten, straighten, the little flutter of a moment's confusion as she processes Lup's response. It was not the first time Lup had ever poked her in such a way and not likely the last. In this case, Honerva couldn't really help it; taking certain aspects all too seriously was part of how she interpreted the world. Especially with such a lesson being imparted here. She had to find meaning in such things or else be forever pining for what was gone.
But Lup was ever a reminder as well, that even such considerations need not be so dire. Not while they were here, able to speak freely like this. She exhales softly, trying to only breathe around that weight she carried in her chest.]
... Indeed. When did you get so wise?
[A light playfulness, even. Lup, ever the teacher.]
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[Lup tosses another stick of incense on the coals, a fresh wave of arcana washing over them.]
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'You have a point.' She replies, in Elvish. See, she's practicing! She listens! Or maybe she just doesn't know the succinct phrase of "touché".]
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Well, well, look at you! Still a little formal, and your accent needs work, but you nailed it. Solid B-plus.
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[Let alone having enough concentration to allow for the language to be heard at all, the outside factor to all of this. Still... there is warmth in that praise and she accepts it, with a slight dip of her head. To know that the effort alone is still worth something has certainly been part of the 180 degree mindset. And hey, not bad for only a few months worth of practice in between everything else they were working on. There was still far to go.
She closes her eyes again, taking in the soothing properties of the ritual and sensing, there, the progress of the familiar.]
Aside from that, however... I have also wondered, if there is a day that the two of you consider your own. To be... celebrated.
[Even knowing what she does of their history, surely they'd have more context for such a thing than she would, is what she thinks.]
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Implying that every day isn't a valid day for celebrating us?
[Probably not the answer she was looking for, but it's about the level of seriousness she seems to give to that particular subject. Honerva's welcome to push for it if she likes, though.]
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I thought it might be... nice, to build a new tradition. If that is something you would want.
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[Lup considers it a moment. Honerva is making an effort, here, and she can acknowledge that much. And who knows, maybe it could be fun. It's been a long, long time, after all.]
I don't know how well the calendar would translate here, but we picked our own when we were 12. [That age, if Honerva remembers, is significant for the both of them, but Lup especially.] Midsummer, the day before the festival- so we'd always have a party, even if no one was around to celebrate us.
[And there was really only ever one person who did. She died a long, long time ago, leaving behind only a handful of good memories and a flawless turkey recipe.]
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So now she listens, nodding at the familiarity of the age, the unspoken significance there.]
... I admit that my grasp of any calendar system is not sufficient.
[None of the ones she was accustomed to would be relevant here. She was less certain about... how to create a new birthday tradition, but she wanted it to mean something, going forward.]
But I should like to learn yours. Perhaps we may find a way to determine what would align with what exists here.
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[She'd gotten snippets here and there, while in the umbrella, but it was mostly just to track how much of the year had passed. It's not as if people were always saying what day or month it was when she was conveniently in earshot, and when she'd been lost in Wave Echo cave, alone in the dark, there'd been no way to know any of that. Time had lost all meaning. When she woke in the fleet the old calendar no longer mattered, so this is the first time she'd given it any thought since.]
I can try to remember, but... you might be better off asking Taako for that one. He actually lived in that world.
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[It did concern the both of them, after all, and the whole point was to... make some meaning of time, to build that future, even if it was considerably harder for her and Lup to conceptualize in some ways. And probably not the best for Taako either, losing half of his heart like that and getting smushed back together.]
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[And it's not like she's trying to artificially force them together - they can develop their own relationship, on their own terms. But to her, Honerva is family now. Just like Taako will always be. And her family getting along, trusting one another, is always precious to her.]
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[Hard for her not to have some wariness at potentially spooking him instead, as much as things had improved considerably between them.]
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[She gives Honerva's hand a meaningful squeeze, her tone shifting subtly- quieter.]
Try to be patient with him, okay? It's worth it, I promise.
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She couldn't afford to not be patient, when they had both been so patient with her.]
Perhaps it is because I am eager.
[A smile in the words. Not merely an attempt, but an aspiration, to wait, to endure and not feel as though she was failing in some way.]
I know that in this way he and I are similar. He has his own... choices, to make. But you are with us.
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[Her tone shifts back to whimsical, but her words are no less genuine; Taako may not say it, he may not even show it, but he does love, just as strongly and purely as anyone can. His way of showing it is as unique as the rest of him, that's all.]
And I'm not going anywhere.
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By the end of Lup's words, she's the one who follows that up with the return squeeze of her hand.]
No, you are not. And neither am I.
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Releasing Honerva's hand, she reaches out and lifts the brazier out of the way, letting the last of the smoke coalesce with that same energy. In a matter of seconds, that smoke forms into a silhouette... and then solidifies, finally, into the shape of a cat.
Ditto yawns, stretches, and rolls over the glyphs on the floor, displaying his belly and pawing the air, making Lup huff a laugh.]
You asshole. You make us wait all this time and the first chance you get, you're covered in chalk.
[She can't even fake sounding annoyed about it. It's just... really, really good to see him again.]
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Well, there was likely not much chance of doing that where he's been, was there?
[ She doesn't know. But odd spirit that he is, perhaps he is happy too, in his own way to be drawn forth and to become... companionable. ]
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