standvastig | Abraxas Inbox

[There is obvious reluctance in Jasper's reaction, but he does not run away -- a small comfort considering what else is trickling into his mind. He grimaces at the mention of "natural color" even before he's had a chance to mull over what that means.]

The clothing you wore was also unlike anything I have ever seen. Dark. Very dark.

[In his head, he's already jumping to conclusions, but his heart is reluctant to give them voice.]

Was that... Is that who you are?

[The enquiry is reluctant and gentle - a comforting lead into an issue that is difficult for both of them. He stiffens from head to toe and closes his eyes, taking time to find his nerves. While he could deny that half of himself, he would be absolving himself of blame and denying his innermost feelings.

After a few more seconds, he has a simple yet complex answer.]

It is part of who I am.

[His hatred and despair given literal form. Is he a man or monster? He hardly knows but it hardly bothers him, either.]

[Somehow, the admission in a peaceful, quiet setting hurts more than anything Hendrik has heard roared in the middle of a battle. It takes effort to not look crestfallen, confusion leading to him clenching his hands where they have taken to rest on his knees.]

I do not understand why. It is ... difficult to fathom.

[He hates to even think that Jasper would have such a dark side to him, even knowing the sheer amount of wrongs he has allowed by helping the Lord of Shadows.]

I have always thought you upright. An inspiration. Someone I aspired to be. Even if I did not always agree with your manners, I always thought you were a professional when necessary.

[And because of that, he doesn't want to dilute that mental image with the negatives that he knows to be true.]

Hendrik, I...

[Jasper stops himself, tripping over one word after another, followed by a period of silence that lasts seven or more seconds. Memories remind him of hearing those feelings before. Right before he breathed his last and lost his chance to respond. Each second counts as nine and he runs a hand through his hair before clenching both at his sides.]

You have no idea how late you are with those words.

[He clenches his fists once again before stretching his fingers. Perhaps this distress is his cross to bear.]

[There is a lonesome air to this entire conversation, like a crevasse runs between them and divides them thoroughly. He can only guess how long it took for that gap to form, somehow having missed when a faded friendship turned into something bleak and ... dark, for lack of a better word.]

I only know that I am late. There is no excuse.

[Just as there is no excuse for Jasper's misdeeds, there are none for his own.]

I cannot blame that monster for my blindness. It would also do no good for anyone.

[But he doesn't know where to go from here. Even speaking to these lengths is a lot for him.]

[Hendrik seems lost and adrift while sharing his feelings. The man stands lonely, like a tree buckling before a storm. He listens with closed eyes and an objective mind. Days of offering guidance and advice have passed him by. Perhaps those days shall come again. Perhaps not. He only knows he is grateful to be alive to have this opportunity.]

No. I suppose not.

[He could offer his opinion but chooses to listen.]

[He knows he can't simply dwell on these feelings, especially when the incidents themselves that led to this were so far in the past. He knows, but he has to allows himself a moment to mourn, much like he mourned when he finally had a tent built in Last Bastion and had a moment to himself.

Taking a deep breath, he looks at Jasper. Even if the other man doesn't meet his gaze, he can say what's on his mind. Perhaps it's even a little easier this way.]

Someday I will make it up to you. I do not know how, but I will.

[Jasper turns his face away but in the next moment chooses not to hide. He stands firm and shares his panic and weakness: caution of another and fear of rejection twisting his expression into something fearful.

His gaze searches for something reassuring and he finds it by looking at his hand. A bridge across the divide. He sighs, exhausted by his emotions. It takes a moment but he unclenches his fist and offers his hand - and within his eyes shines hope for the future.]

[It takes a moment for Hendrik's eyes to follow Jasper's over to his hand, but when he sees it opening and lifting, he doesn't hesitant to bring up his hand in turn. His grip is firm as he squeezes his fingers around Jasper's, matching the resolve in his eyes.

There are still questions. There will likely always be hurt. But a moment's understanding is like a battle won in a larger war, and its encouragement is monumental.]

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