warning, high levels of wangst ahead

[strayedingly]

[Gabranth isn't sure just what he's doing on another beach, nor why this one has apparently seen fit to discard his swords and armor. Nor is he fully aware of whatever "scavenger hunt" he's been expected to participate in; no, there are far greater things weighing on his mind

Comments

... slight teal deer warning

[claymoredingly]

[Saïx watches him for a long moment. He will not have to ask the Judge what is on his mind; it is clear to see, so heavily it sits on his shoulders. He considers his words and his actions, weighing each and turning them over in his hand like stones to be carved for arrowheads. After a substantial silence, Saïx steps forward to stand on par with him on the sand.]

... Gabranth. [His voice is quiet and his tone level.]

pft, like the original post wasn't tl;dr enough

[strayedingly]

[He glances at Saix, and takes a moment's pause before giving a short nod in acknowledgment.]

Saix. [What could he want with him?]

[claymoredingly]

[There are many stones, but only one is right.]

She would want us to live on.

[strayedingly]

[Saix's words only double the weight upon his heart, and anger quickly rises to the surface of his thoughts-- What do you know of her wants? What do you know of my own? Why weren't you protecting her, why couldn't you have stopped this? But those thoughts quickly fade when he realizes that the same could very well be asked of himself. He cannot bring himself to be angry with Saix when he knows just as much blame could be laid upon his own head.

Beyond that, he's already been forced to come to grips with a single, simple truth-- no amount of catharsis, no matter how deeply his soul might yearn for it, will bring her back. Taking out whatever rage he might have on Saix will yield nothing.

All that is left for him, then, is to cling to futile hope.]

She would want... or she does?

[claymoredingly]

... It depends on your faith.

[There are layers to this; these five words yield many meanings, as do these four: What do you believe? That is what he is saying.]

[strayedingly]

Faith?

[If he didn't feel so broken right now, he might have scoffed at that.]

This world has taught me to place faith in nothing, not even the laws of nature and common sense. Only one's fellow man can be trusted; only that one's comrades will always stand at his side, through all else, through all things that should work against them-- even death-- that is all that can be trusted.

[The words come from him before he can thoroughly consider them, and he finds himself looking away from Saix.]

Would this world betray its one law?

[claymoredingly]

This world follows two: Change is inevitable, and death is amendable.

["Must faith be placed only in laws?" murmurs one stone, and he holds almost tenderly it for a moment. Faith in concepts, Saïx thinks. That is what has provided him some stability and comfort; all of his boyhood's lessons were symbols. The moon shines brightest in the darkest night. That is a symbol. The sun sets. That is a symbol, too, as is the sun's rising the following morn. Gently, carefully, he lays that stone aside in favor of another, and he skillfully breaks it apart until it is the shape he desires.]

Your faith, then, has not been misplaced.

[strayedingly]

[Gabranth turns to face Saix again, mulling over his words. One who stands at his side-- could that truly be said of this man?

No, what does this man even mean to him? He's a fellow warrior, with no short experience in the heat of battle; the beliefs he holds ring of some primitive, Garif mentality, and yet he rarely misses the opportunity to speak down to him, to insult his pride; he has sworn to protect Yako, gained her trust-- and likely granted it in return-- and failed to protect her just as Gabranth had himself.

Again he sees the mirror of himself-- of his present, rather than his past-- and again it sways him. Perhaps this man could be worthy of his trust, as well.

Perhaps...

There is a long pause before he speaks again, and when he does so, his voice is quiet.]

Thank you.

[claymoredingly]

[Saïx nods.]

[He stares out at the water, listens to the waves on the shore. He is sure Yako would have liked this world... well. It would not be her first world like this. His mind drifts to his second -- no, his third? world here. The desert island. That night... The talk of the stars and the moon. Trust. A blanket for a new friend.

... Bonds seem to form on beaches.]

[He clears the thoughts away, autumn leaves before the tent opening, and he returns to turning over stones. None seem right for this moment; it needs no arrowheads, so he waits.]

[strayedingly]

[Likewise, Gabranth turns his gaze to the ocean. Though he cannot remember having ever felt peace on a beach such as this-- never in the time of his servitude to Chaos, and nothing of the sort stands out in his clouded memories from before that time-- he very nearly feels it now.

Nearly.]

This world... 'Twould seem to delight in our loss. It takes that which we hold most dear and returns them without penalty, only to remind us again and again just how easily they can be lost to us.

psst app-thing is up at Waver

[claymoredingly]

... more like that is the nature of life, and it is the nature of this world to show it into sharp relief.

\o/

[strayedingly]

[He winces.]

Perhaps so, but life shows the courtesy of only taking those things from us once-- never in such repeated succession.

icon fail

[claymoredingly]

Mm. That is because typically we only are allowed one chance.

... this world... [He looks up, spreading his arms slightly. The moon is singing so clearly to him here.] It is a second chance, and a third, and a fourth -- countless opportunities to try again, and again, and again. Perhaps there is a lesson it is trying to teach us.

[... his tongue is awfully loose tonight. He suspects it is a side effect of the moon.]

fffff

[strayedingly]

[He looks up as well, wondering if there is some meaning to be found in the vast expanse of sky. He doesn't find it.]

Second chances are wasted on men such as myself.

fffffff we are winnars

[claymoredingly]

[That's because you don't listen.]

[... Saïx resists the strong urge to reach over there and smack him upside the head --

nope, no he doesn't.]

indeed

[strayedingly]

[Well, that was unexpected.]

Wha- What was that for?!