( Oh, she knows how he feels about the gods all too well, and it's something she can't blame him for. Still. They'd all do terrible things to try and survive, she thinks. )
Thanks. ( From Glacius, she doesn't question the offer. There's no wondering of motives or anything else, because he's given her nothing but reasons to trust him. She'll keep it in mind, at least. For now? For now she wants to move on, to look beyond the things she's done and try to be useful. )
Feels like we're running out of time.
( Delight's death, this move... There's electricity in the air, a tension among everyone, she finds.
It's been a long time coming, but it's still going to be hard to deal with. After all this time, and all the things they've gone through, the thought of not being in the same city — no, the same universe — as Glacius is a strange one indeed. It's not like the distance between herself and her friends back on Earth. She can't just open her laptop and start chatting, or have Carl come pick her up.
Realistically, they may never see each other again. )
[Glacius hesitates, seeming like he wants to say more... but he has done all he can in this matter, has he not? He cannot absolve Kate of the guilt he feels, cannot magically mend her feelings even though he wishes he could; her good heart will struggle with this for some time. He can only support her steadfastly as she overcomes it, as he already has offered to do...
... Moreover her next remark completely blindsides him, and not just because it's something of a jump in topics. The alien's eyes widen, and then his brow knits and his nasal cap wrinkles as his face scrunches up, an outward expression over his inner conflict.] I... I know. I feel it too. We don't know what will happen once this hell breaks loose, but the best case scenario is likely that we find a way to be returned to our respective worlds. I miss my people—I never stopped missing them, not even for a moment—and I want the ones that I love to go free from this place. Free from all of the pain, suffering, and torture it entails, but...
[Glacius drops his head, coughs up something of a weak laugh, and then lowers himself towards Kate, his voice quiet.] I don't want to say goodbye...
( She's aware how sudden a change it is, but the memories of that day still ache and the natural desire is to stop poking the sore thing. Stop bringing it up. Move away from the past and into the future, like she always has. Maybe in a while she'll be able to explain it properly, be able to detach herself enough to not feel as though she's being cut open for examination.
Maybe in a while she'll be able to internalise Glacius' words enough that she can divorce herself from that part of her brain which whispers but that's who you are.
So, from one painful topic to the next, it seems. But isn't that always the way with Hadriel? Leaving is a strange beast at best — after years of wanting to go home, of knowing this isn't the right place for them, to be confronted with the very real possibility that they might just after all... All of them. Back to a million different universes, back to who they used to be.
She always imagined she'd be excited. And, true, she'll be glad to see her friends again, to be back with her people, but it comes at the cost of far more than she anticipated losing. )
I— ( For a moment, the words which come to mind die on her tongue, and her arms wrap around herself tightly. Going home means no longer having Glacius as a neighbour, no longer being part of this infuriating, often insane place, and having to give up every bit of progress she's made here as a person.
I don't either. But how lacking a sentiment is that for the concept of losing three years of your life? When she speaks, her voice knots thick with emotion. ) ...You better find my universe.
( You better not be lying about that potential to travel through universes, Glacius. She doesn't want to say goodbye either. )
[That gets Glacius to lift his head, his eyes widening as she calls back on an old promise. Perhaps it was foolish to make—sometimes, when people leave this place only to be dragged back, the memories of what has transpired hear are torn from them. But he has always been one to cling to hope, and now he feels familiarly adamant as he leans in and doubles down.] I will. I will do whatever it takes to do so. It may take me some time, but... this all means too much to me to just forget it all. It has to!
[That does not do much to ease the sorrow of their potential parting that now looms, but it at least gives him something to strive for. Hopefully, if the people that he's grown close to in this place know anything, it is how hard Glacius will work to not disappoint them.]
( That old cynical part of her, the one which would rather be called realistic, rolls its eyes, grimaces at the childish sounding request. Just because he said it doesn't mean it will happen, and all the rest of it. Why open oneself to all that potential pain and waiting?
Well. It's simple, isn't it? It's going to hurt either way. She may as well leave knowing she said everything she needed to say. )
Is there anything that helps?
( She still only knows so much about interdimensional travel, okay. Can he narrow the world down somehow, if she gives him something? Tells him enough?
[Glacius may be more experienced in this regard, but he still knows very little about how this particular sort of interdimensional travel is going to work. He frowns, clenching his hands as he thinks about this question.] I am unsure. The Door seems to function very differently from my people's fold cores; if we were simply using the latter, there would be no time displacement, no potential loss of memories. But when people are removed from this place, they do lose them, and regaining said memories should they be unfortunate enough to be brought back to Hadriel only seems to happen on occasion.
I wish I could say for sure what to do. [Glacius lets out a gusty sigh with this remark.] As wistful as it sounds, I just have to hope that what we have is strong enough that it may endure, in some inkling or another, across these worlds. I believe that it will. But... if there is anything you want to try, like gifting me a possession or a reminder of our relationship, then we should do that. Who knows if it will even stay with me when I pass that interdimensional threshold, but the more precautions we take to ensure we remember, the better... in my mind.
( Honestly, she does. Not out of sentimentality, at least she wouldn't admit to that if he asked, but because it makes sense that a physical possession would help. At least, maybe in the memory department.
But what? She doesn't have too many things in this city she'd really call personal, and—
Wait. She's got it. Just let her rummage for a second, through one of her drawers, and come back with two things — a set of handwritten notes, and one of the few books the library ever had that was useful and in a recognisable language. One about dancing. )
Here.
( Before him are the things she wrote about his biology, kept safe and secret ever since that day, and a faded looking book with a woman in a ballgown and a man in a suit, mid-turn. )
[Glacius cannot help but be curious to see what it is she gives him, and perhaps maybe even eager to have a keepsake despite not knowing how it might affect whatever happens to their memories. What he gets is yet another unexpected punch to the gut as he reads the notes written on those old papers; his cheekbones twitch, and he gives her what can only be read as a pained, struggling smile.]
Ah, yes. I... suppose you will not be needing these any more once your resident alien has departed, hm? And now you return them to me... I knew I picked the right person to trust with this information. [It would have been easy for her to hold on to them, after all... but he knows that she understands he would feel safer with the information about his species eradicated, now that its usefulness has run its course. Kate has always understood how he values its secrecy, how he uses it to protect his people.]
And this... [Now Glacius turns his attention to the book as he tucks the notes inside its cover for safekeeping. Once he is home, he can have Carlisle use his magic to incinerate the papers properly.] A reminder of the good times we have managed to create together in this place despite everything. Perhaps we should find a time to have... just one last dance, before this all draws to its conclusion.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Thanks. ( From Glacius, she doesn't question the offer. There's no wondering of motives or anything else, because he's given her nothing but reasons to trust him. She'll keep it in mind, at least. For now? For now she wants to move on, to look beyond the things she's done and try to be useful. )
Feels like we're running out of time.
( Delight's death, this move... There's electricity in the air, a tension among everyone, she finds.
It's been a long time coming, but it's still going to be hard to deal with. After all this time, and all the things they've gone through, the thought of not being in the same city — no, the same universe — as Glacius is a strange one indeed. It's not like the distance between herself and her friends back on Earth. She can't just open her laptop and start chatting, or have Carl come pick her up.
Realistically, they may never see each other again. )
no subject
... Moreover her next remark completely blindsides him, and not just because it's something of a jump in topics. The alien's eyes widen, and then his brow knits and his nasal cap wrinkles as his face scrunches up, an outward expression over his inner conflict.] I... I know. I feel it too. We don't know what will happen once this hell breaks loose, but the best case scenario is likely that we find a way to be returned to our respective worlds. I miss my people—I never stopped missing them, not even for a moment—and I want the ones that I love to go free from this place. Free from all of the pain, suffering, and torture it entails, but...
[Glacius drops his head, coughs up something of a weak laugh, and then lowers himself towards Kate, his voice quiet.] I don't want to say goodbye...
he better come fite with her in the combat log she has Things to say :>
Maybe in a while she'll be able to internalise Glacius' words enough that she can divorce herself from that part of her brain which whispers but that's who you are.
So, from one painful topic to the next, it seems. But isn't that always the way with Hadriel? Leaving is a strange beast at best — after years of wanting to go home, of knowing this isn't the right place for them, to be confronted with the very real possibility that they might just after all... All of them. Back to a million different universes, back to who they used to be.
She always imagined she'd be excited. And, true, she'll be glad to see her friends again, to be back with her people, but it comes at the cost of far more than she anticipated losing. )
I— ( For a moment, the words which come to mind die on her tongue, and her arms wrap around herself tightly. Going home means no longer having Glacius as a neighbour, no longer being part of this infuriating, often insane place, and having to give up every bit of progress she's made here as a person.
I don't either. But how lacking a sentiment is that for the concept of losing three years of your life? When she speaks, her voice knots thick with emotion. ) ...You better find my universe.
( You better not be lying about that potential to travel through universes, Glacius. She doesn't want to say goodbye either. )
absolutely!
[That does not do much to ease the sorrow of their potential parting that now looms, but it at least gives him something to strive for. Hopefully, if the people that he's grown close to in this place know anything, it is how hard Glacius will work to not disappoint them.]
no subject
Well. It's simple, isn't it? It's going to hurt either way. She may as well leave knowing she said everything she needed to say. )
Is there anything that helps?
( She still only knows so much about interdimensional travel, okay. Can he narrow the world down somehow, if she gives him something? Tells him enough?
Who the heck knows. )
no subject
I wish I could say for sure what to do. [Glacius lets out a gusty sigh with this remark.] As wistful as it sounds, I just have to hope that what we have is strong enough that it may endure, in some inkling or another, across these worlds. I believe that it will. But... if there is anything you want to try, like gifting me a possession or a reminder of our relationship, then we should do that. Who knows if it will even stay with me when I pass that interdimensional threshold, but the more precautions we take to ensure we remember, the better... in my mind.
no subject
But what? She doesn't have too many things in this city she'd really call personal, and—
Wait. She's got it. Just let her rummage for a second, through one of her drawers, and come back with two things — a set of handwritten notes, and one of the few books the library ever had that was useful and in a recognisable language. One about dancing. )
Here.
( Before him are the things she wrote about his biology, kept safe and secret ever since that day, and a faded looking book with a woman in a ballgown and a man in a suit, mid-turn. )
no subject
Ah, yes. I... suppose you will not be needing these any more once your resident alien has departed, hm? And now you return them to me... I knew I picked the right person to trust with this information. [It would have been easy for her to hold on to them, after all... but he knows that she understands he would feel safer with the information about his species eradicated, now that its usefulness has run its course. Kate has always understood how he values its secrecy, how he uses it to protect his people.]
And this... [Now Glacius turns his attention to the book as he tucks the notes inside its cover for safekeeping. Once he is home, he can have Carlisle use his magic to incinerate the papers properly.] A reminder of the good times we have managed to create together in this place despite everything. Perhaps we should find a time to have... just one last dance, before this all draws to its conclusion.