standvastig | Abraxas Inbox

[The cold expression darkening his face shifts in acknowledgement - brightness in his eyes fading as he loses himself in old memories. Not to hide from the man he became but to acknowledge him.]

I know. I do not seek your forgiveness.

[He hardly desires to be forgiven. Nor deserves kindness, even. On the other? Kindness is all he needs.]

You should not be thinking of wanting my forgiveness as it is. I am still alive, and I can decide if those trespasses can fade with time.

[His hands shift, resting on the arms of the chair but turning upward in something of a clarifying motion.]

That was not a sentiment allowed for the people of Heliodor who died in the aftermath. Stolen always like the people of Dundrasil and my home country.

[Jasper lowers his gaze before closing his eyes. People died and cannot return except by the will of Yggdrasil. Their stolen lives colour his hands crimson like his eyes - but that comparison hardly matters. His humanity exists invisible below his skin and makes him wish he could scrub himself raw.

It almost stops him facing his current predicament. But those stolen lives draw his attention to the matter at hand.]

I understand.

[Not about the loss of his old countrymen. He understands not to demand his old friend ignores his feelings. He remains silent because what else is there to say?]

[He dislikes the stretch of silence that follows Jasper's succinct reply, sighing as he lifts his arms to fold them across his chest. It all feels rather uncomfortable, with the common garbs given by their hosts not made for withstanding the elements or a battlefield.

It is difficult not to dwell on the past when the atrocities Jasper allowed are still so fresh in his mind. But he knows he cannot simply continue getting angry at the other man for existing in the same space as him.]

You must be enjoying having so much new material to read.

[The sudden change in direction fails to surprise him. Hendrik is utterly predictable and makes him long to smile. It is also uncommon for him to fail to exhibit some enthusiasm for learning - but life is entirely predictable in its misery.

He reaches inside himself for a moment to find his passion. His proverbial hand returns with scraps of spirit that died beside him.]

Yes. It is a wonderful way to pass the time.

[His voice is dry and flat. He died. What should he even enjoy anymore?]

[It was a terrible attempt at changing the subject. Even given that, Hendrik cannot help but be displeased at the lack of effort Jasper seems to show in return. He turns his head away to instead focus on vines crawling up a trellis.]

Better than forcing yourself to sit across from a man you hate, I imagine.

[Very well then. An even better choice of subject.]

[Jasper sits with his back against the chair whilst bearing the weight of the world upon his shoulders. His shocked nerves are dead to that same world for far too long. He gently falls into a stupor - shocking himself awake when he jolts upright.

Fingers reach for where his pendant would sit against his chest, clenching around its imaginary shape when he realises its absence. His words are much as for himself than this man once hated.]

Not when I find myself admiring the man I hate.

[This strange world makes him long for the familiar - and right now that's this man he stopped hating moments before arriving.]

[Hendrik does not register the meaning behind Jasper's words right away; his attention does not snap back to him, but instead trickles like sand down an hourglass. His brows knit together in thought long before he utters a response.]

Hate and admire? That is a strange combination.

[And one he cannot make sense of, considering everything that has happened thus far.]

Yes. It confounds me so that I cannot answer.

[It disturbs him enough that he twists his hair around his finger. The gesture is common enough that he finds it comforting; he twines strands needing comfort more than ever. This need for his feelings to make sense pushes him to share words he sounds reluctant to admit.]

But I find myself incapable of hating you these days. Call it the realisation of a man brought to his knees.

[That's the lightest way he can put it.]

I see.

[He wants to believe that Jasper speaks true, even as he second-guesses himself. It would do his heart some good to believe in that small truth among questions and lies.

That mention of "a man brought to his knees" is perhaps what clinches the commentary for him. It is not something he can imagine Jasper uttering without extreme reluctance.]

You came to this realization recently?

[Jasper looks away in the same manner he had avoided showing emotion as a boy - by staring away from his problem. It does his heart no good but it affords his mind peace. Peace that has been a long time coming.]

More recently than I care to admit.

[Hendrik makes a quiet, restless noise at that, brows remaining knit together as he thinks over those words.]

So something happened shortly before you arrived here.

[The words come slowly, a distinct rumble of concern eking into his voice.]

[Words assault him. The statement drains colour from his face, nerves inside him trembling while he maintains an emotionless stare. It takes only a second for him to slump against his chair. Hands grasp the armrests and he makes his best attempt to look normal.]

In a manner of speaking.

[It was a situation that was certainly anything but normal.]

[With his thoughts churning with this new information, Hendrik could almost be forgiven for how his focus turns inward. But he cannot simply ignore how Jasper reacts to what he has said, his arms falling to rest back on the chair.

He bites his tongue on the most obvious question: "What happened?" He cannot simply take that question and expect to go anywhere with it, considering how closed off Jasper was the last time they had talked.

That resurfacing memory has him referencing their past conversation.]

You asked before that I not ask you about something. I believe it was about what happened to you.

[The statement roots him on his chair. It becomes a struggle to flatten his fingers and prevent them clawing the wood; eyes turn away to stare into space but he shuffles his feet. The particularily strong image of arms reaching up from the earth preys on his emotions - the feeling of being clawed by death itself.

His heart sinks in his chest, plummeting into the crater he made for himself. It takes him a moment to remember to breathe. He shakes his head to clear his throughs. A hand lifts to straighten his finger before he begins straightening his spine.

This foolish need to appear confident stopped being convincing moments ago. He refuses to stop hoping he appears well.]

Hendrik. Cease troubling yourself.

[His stern tone is an attempt to shut things down. But how can that work when he sounds afraid?]

[Silence. Closing himself off. Why is he not surprised? Jasper is distancing himself, hiding things from him -- just as their conversation had touched upon earlier. He finds himself folding his fingers together, locked in no small amount of thought as he fights the urge to let frustration win.]

Would you rather I forgot?

[In the end, he cannot keep it all at bay.]

I am sure that would be convenient.

It is hardly a matter of convenience.

[The accusation fails to ignite his temper as it might. His elbow leans against the armrest, fingers against the side of his forehead. He has wielded hate and deception to the point of causing pain. He hardly wishes to burden with troublesome news. But surely withholding the answer Hendrik wants is also deception?]

More a matter of having your best interests at heart.

[Much like the last time they had spoken, Hendrik clenches his fingers down in immediate reaction, frustration rearing its head. His fingers, still entangled, clench painfully as he stares hard at his childhood friend.]

You are intentionally trying to frustrate me.

[There is no way he cannot be. Best interests at heart? What an absurd thing to say at this point.]

[With one stern admission his lies are cast aside. Several moments are wasted mourning his inability to lie by omission - following that he lowers his hand and pulls himself upright. He fights to maintain dignity in face of sharing a harsh truth. Agonising seconds are spend weighing his options. Until then he hears the whisper of whether sharing his fate should be his decision to decide.

That makes it simple. Let Hendrik make the decision.]

Fine. Tell me what you want.

[Answers? An argument?]

[He is sorely tempted to allow himself to be petty in the face of Jasper's stubbornness, but that niggling concern keeps him from doing so. Instead, he turns a disappointed frown upon the other man, taking a moment to calm himself.]

No. You have made clear that you would rather have my ire than tell me your heart.

[How else can he describe what is going on with Jasper's logic?]

Saying ceasing my concerns is in my best interests is conceited of you.

[Jasper holds his tongue. Flashes of anger refuse to exist. His impassive face softens with increasing concern: emotions wobbling between sadness and confusion. Is the accusation accurate? In his heart he knows he is arrogant. It is the least detestable of his worst traits.]

I know.

[Words cease when he remembers. Dying. Passing out - the phrase helps him cope - without sharing his thoughts. His eyebrows lift and his mouth hangs agape. His heart races and his head shakes unwillingly for a second. He wants to control himself but he looks scared.]

Hendrik, I...

Edited 2022-02-10 20:03 (UTC)

[He doesn't know what happened to Jasper since the Fall, but the man before him now is far from the one he saw for the many years prior. He doesn't know what is a facade or what is real--not truly--but he has always known Jasper to fight to keep face, whether it be because of pride or self-consciousness.]

Why are you doing this? Have I not already seen you at your worst?

[It is a different than asking What happened to you? But it still strikes at his current lack of knowledge as to what would cause such a stark change in the man he had thought he had known for years.]

[How terribly still he remains in his chair. How terrifyingly imposing. He doesn't know whether to offer Hendrik what he wants or preserve the scraps of his dignity. One time the answer would have been obvious but what dignity is left to preserve? Is he even the same man after everything that has transpired?

He turns over his hands and looks at his pale skin; his entirely human skin. If Hendrik cannot recall him looking anything thus, then...]

This is nowhere near my worst.

[Silence. Hendrik finds himself unable to think of what to do with this new information, and he sits back in his chair, simply staring at Jasper. Though he cannot quite see his expression, there is such tangible tension that he knows that whatever he may say will affect where Jasper's mind will turn.

So he keeps quiet, eyes averted to a spot next to his old friend's chair. He waits for whatever else may be said in the moment.]

[Jasper sits in silence and dwells in despair. Words strangle his throat without leaving his lips; the truth a secret best shared another time.

He grits his teeth and steels himself. This is the right time. How disgusted with himself would his old self be? The harsh truth of his end is his doing. His old comrade and companion deserves the truth.

Why is sharing it this hard? Has he forgotten how to be honest? He growls in frustration.]

It is far too early to feel this miserable.

[This man is the same as that who approached him on his knees, yet...]

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