[What they've done hits them all at once, too fast, their mind going blank with distress before Luke even begins to shake them. Their hands fly up, aimless in desperation, trying to somehow hold onto the air, to grab all the words they've both said and squash them in their fingers.
But what's done is done, and as they stagger, disoriented, their eyes can only follow Luke as he sinks down in despair. Piety's voice comes out as nothing, as barely a breath.]
I'm so sorry.
[It feels like an eternity passes. Piety lowers themself delicately down, hands slowly reaching for Luke once again, but this time, when they touch his arms, Piety draws him closer, against his body.]
I'm so, so sorry, Luke. I didn't mean...
[They didn't mean it? A part of them does mean it, always meant it, still means it. But there are so many other feelings too, so many stronger ones, truths that weren't ever fair to burden anyone with before. But if there's ever a time to say it, maybe this is it.]
I'm scared to die, just like anyone else. I'm so scared, all the time, thinking about everything and everyone I'll never see again. I don't want to be replaced...and I don't want anyone to replace me.
[Luke stays bent, shuddering, barely hearing the words of apology, the ache of loss and endless, stinging pain of powerlessness burning like a hot coal in the pit of his stomach.
Didn't mean it? No, they had. That flippant nature, as if their life was always forfeit, always a temporary moment, a bubble on the breeze instead of a whole, worthwhile human existence—to say he had personal hands-on experience with such an attitude was an understatement at best.
So when Piety trails off, goes quiet, and starts again, he also recognizes the truth.
It surprises him almost as much as the initial incendiary statement, and he slowly raises his head, still wrapped in the god's embrace. Swallowing the lump in his throat as much as possible, he licks his lips to moisten them—but his voice is still quiet, rough, still welled with emotion.]
Me, too. [All of it.] I feel exactly the same.
Before I... [He hesitates, tries again:] before I came here, when I was on Audrant, I kept it to myself. I didn't want to burden anyone else with it, because all my friends had their own problems. I didn't even tell Guy.
But in the end... it turns out they already knew. More than anything, they were mad at me... or maybe, disappointed. For not talking to them about it more, for not trusting that they would support me, no matter what.
[He swallows around his feelings again, struggling with his words.]
For not believing that... that... they wouldn't want to replace me, even if they could.
It's easy to hurt your friends when you're trapped inside of your own sorrow.
[Piety stays with Luke, holding him in their position where they sit on their knees on the floor. They speak quiet, slow, and soothing.]
But we grow, and we learn. Sometimes, we may slide back, but as long as we get back up and keep moving forward, it doesn't matter how afraid we are. Hold on to everything you feel, no matter how much it pains you, because those things are all what makes you who you are.
[Their hands clench into small fists.]
I'm a god, but this is a lesson that I'm still learning, myself. I still don't always know who I am. Am I someone new, now that I'm Piety, or am I still who I was before? Maybe...for as long as you're here, we can keep learning, together.
[Luke doesn't shift or move away from their shared position. The slow evaporation of adrenaline in his system from the anger leaves him tired, the exhaustion from the events of the past two weeks and before sinking deep into his body‚ as if he'd only just now contemplated everything that had happened.
Closing his eyes again, he lets his mind focus on Piety's words instead, floating in the quiet, close darkness between them.]
I want to... help you. I want us to help each other. I don't want to keep making the same mistakes, and I don't want you to look at yourself like that. [Like just another piece in the system, swappable at short notice.]
Growth is hard, when it's on your own—trust me, I know. But... something my friends did for me was to watch me. They watched what I did, who I became. It helped a lot, knowing I had someone who was keeping an eye on me. Maybe we could do that for each other.
[Opening his eyes again, he turns, looking into Piety's mask, the best they could do for eye-to-eye.]
...I know I'm just another player in the game, and you're a god, but if you want... I'll keep an eye on you.
[Even if he can't see it, the smile is clear in their voice.]
I'd like it if we could count on each other as friends. And I promise, no matter what happens, even if it's just you and me up until the end...I'll keep you safe.
[In their first conversation, Piety had asked Luke to count on him as a friend. It had seemed an odd request at the time, and one that had genuinely seemed more of a trap than an honest extension of goodwill. In a competition where people were potentially murdering each other, it didn't seem like a good idea to grab blindly on to anyone and trust in them as you would a friend, deity or not.
But as the weeks had passed, it was starting to dawn on Luke that trust was, in many cases, all they had. The only currency in trade that everyone possessed, and one which always had value. And wasn't that how it was in everyday life, too? The situation was different, but he'd certainly navigated similar waters on Auldrant—both positively and determentally.
In terms of trust, Piety had proven themselves each week, living up to their words, and standing by their beliefs—just as they'd said they would. Then, he'd helped Luke, counseled him, and trusted in him in turn.
Wasn't that what being a friend was all about?
There's a twitch of a smile on his lips at Piety's words, and he gives his head a single shake.]
That goes both ways, Piety. If we're going to be friends, we have to promise to protect each other.
We'll watch each other's backs, and make sure we're both trying to improve. And when we have problems, we can talk about them, like friends do. Anytime. [There's a moment as he thinks about that.] You can wake me up if you have something, too—and don't worry if I'm in the middle of something or anything like that.
I appreciate how much trust you've put in me so far. I know how much it is to ask, when I look the way that I do, now...but I also promise that it won't be like this for much longer. Just bear with me...for another week, and then I'll really be able to prove myself to you.
[Luke nods, mystified at the wording. There was some implication here that he was missing, and he can't help but feel a little stupider for it. Still, if Piety wanted his trust, they already had it in spades. He could wait.]
Are you saying that... next week you'll be able to take off your mask? [It's unclear what it had to do with anything. But being able to see a face would be easier to connect with...] ...I mean, you don't have to, if you don't want to. You don't need to prove anything.
Of course not--but it's not about proving. I just...want you to know who you can't see behind the mask. I wouldn't discredit the friendship and trust we've begun to build now, as we are, but...it'll just be nice to talk face to face.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
But what's done is done, and as they stagger, disoriented, their eyes can only follow Luke as he sinks down in despair. Piety's voice comes out as nothing, as barely a breath.]
I'm so sorry.
[It feels like an eternity passes. Piety lowers themself delicately down, hands slowly reaching for Luke once again, but this time, when they touch his arms, Piety draws him closer, against his body.]
I'm so, so sorry, Luke. I didn't mean...
[They didn't mean it? A part of them does mean it, always meant it, still means it. But there are so many other feelings too, so many stronger ones, truths that weren't ever fair to burden anyone with before. But if there's ever a time to say it, maybe this is it.]
I'm scared to die, just like anyone else. I'm so scared, all the time, thinking about everything and everyone I'll never see again. I don't want to be replaced...and I don't want anyone to replace me.
no subject
Didn't mean it? No, they had. That flippant nature, as if their life was always forfeit, always a temporary moment, a bubble on the breeze instead of a whole, worthwhile human existence—to say he had personal hands-on experience with such an attitude was an understatement at best.
So when Piety trails off, goes quiet, and starts again, he also recognizes the truth.
It surprises him almost as much as the initial incendiary statement, and he slowly raises his head, still wrapped in the god's embrace. Swallowing the lump in his throat as much as possible, he licks his lips to moisten them—but his voice is still quiet, rough, still welled with emotion.]
Me, too. [All of it.] I feel exactly the same.
Before I... [He hesitates, tries again:] before I came here, when I was on Audrant, I kept it to myself. I didn't want to burden anyone else with it, because all my friends had their own problems. I didn't even tell Guy.
But in the end... it turns out they already knew. More than anything, they were mad at me... or maybe, disappointed. For not talking to them about it more, for not trusting that they would support me, no matter what.
[He swallows around his feelings again, struggling with his words.]
For not believing that... that... they wouldn't want to replace me, even if they could.
no subject
[Piety stays with Luke, holding him in their position where they sit on their knees on the floor. They speak quiet, slow, and soothing.]
But we grow, and we learn. Sometimes, we may slide back, but as long as we get back up and keep moving forward, it doesn't matter how afraid we are. Hold on to everything you feel, no matter how much it pains you, because those things are all what makes you who you are.
[Their hands clench into small fists.]
I'm a god, but this is a lesson that I'm still learning, myself. I still don't always know who I am. Am I someone new, now that I'm Piety, or am I still who I was before? Maybe...for as long as you're here, we can keep learning, together.
no subject
[Luke doesn't shift or move away from their shared position. The slow evaporation of adrenaline in his system from the anger leaves him tired, the exhaustion from the events of the past two weeks and before sinking deep into his body‚ as if he'd only just now contemplated everything that had happened.
Closing his eyes again, he lets his mind focus on Piety's words instead, floating in the quiet, close darkness between them.]
I want to... help you. I want us to help each other. I don't want to keep making the same mistakes, and I don't want you to look at yourself like that. [Like just another piece in the system, swappable at short notice.]
Growth is hard, when it's on your own—trust me, I know. But... something my friends did for me was to watch me. They watched what I did, who I became. It helped a lot, knowing I had someone who was keeping an eye on me. Maybe we could do that for each other.
[Opening his eyes again, he turns, looking into Piety's mask, the best they could do for eye-to-eye.]
...I know I'm just another player in the game, and you're a god, but if you want... I'll keep an eye on you.
Not as a follower, but as a friend.
no subject
[Even if he can't see it, the smile is clear in their voice.]
I'd like it if we could count on each other as friends. And I promise, no matter what happens, even if it's just you and me up until the end...I'll keep you safe.
no subject
But as the weeks had passed, it was starting to dawn on Luke that trust was, in many cases, all they had. The only currency in trade that everyone possessed, and one which always had value. And wasn't that how it was in everyday life, too? The situation was different, but he'd certainly navigated similar waters on Auldrant—both positively and determentally.
In terms of trust, Piety had proven themselves each week, living up to their words, and standing by their beliefs—just as they'd said they would. Then, he'd helped Luke, counseled him, and trusted in him in turn.
Wasn't that what being a friend was all about?
There's a twitch of a smile on his lips at Piety's words, and he gives his head a single shake.]
That goes both ways, Piety. If we're going to be friends, we have to promise to protect each other.
We'll watch each other's backs, and make sure we're both trying to improve. And when we have problems, we can talk about them, like friends do. Anytime. [There's a moment as he thinks about that.] You can wake me up if you have something, too—and don't worry if I'm in the middle of something or anything like that.
no subject
[Promises in all absolutely.]
I appreciate how much trust you've put in me so far. I know how much it is to ask, when I look the way that I do, now...but I also promise that it won't be like this for much longer. Just bear with me...for another week, and then I'll really be able to prove myself to you.
no subject
Are you saying that... next week you'll be able to take off your mask? [It's unclear what it had to do with anything. But being able to see a face would be easier to connect with...] ...I mean, you don't have to, if you don't want to. You don't need to prove anything.
no subject
no subject
That's fair. I guess I'd be excited about it, too, if I had to wear a mask for as long as you have!
All right—I'm looking forward to it, Piety. Meeting face to face, and getting to know you even better!