𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐲𝐫𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 (
subsidence) wrote2020-05-28 01:59 am
if i was a bell, which i'm surely not--what a ridiculous thought--
they don't say much to me here as they seem afraid to do so
but they do say that you're not often home these days
a very busy man, they tell me
always hard at work
but they tell me little else
hard at work as you are, have you any time?
but they do say that you're not often home these days
a very busy man, they tell me
always hard at work
but they tell me little else
hard at work as you are, have you any time?

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tis a worthy material time is
i know how to work with it
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[Here is a good time to take another drink from this bottle of wine. Estinien had picked a very light one, not at all bitter, and now he regrets that. The votive candle in this prayer room flickers for his presence, stirred by his movements, and its disruption suggests as much as anything else that he should not be here.]
i confess i envy this other estinien.
much easier for him to sit perfectly still and then receive the reward of whatever secrets you told him
he doesn't seem to me like a scoundrel but a man deserving of his heroic silhouette
handsome fellow too come to think of it
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[...]
Every man must contend with the riddle of grief in their own way.
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not a single stitch? aymeric.
[Come, now.]
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Only a scoundrel would dare to think such thoughts...
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unlike this man who sits so still beside your bed
[But--look, he didn't come here to be cruel about it. That's not what he intended. It's just--well, he's already confessed to his envy.]
if the embers of how you remember me tell you that i never paid mind to your pettiest wants, you ought to let me reignite your memory
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[It seems he remembers more than a few things about this man and the silhouette he made.]
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i admit to it. in that respect i am no less the man you knew in wanting more than an ilm of you.
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am i mocking you by being hot flesh and blood, aymeric?
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I asked Him to give me everything.
Hot flesh and blood included.
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i did it late and i did it poorly.
but it was me.
and if anyone is going to give it to you twill only be me as well.
here. you've told me only one of your prayers and it's one i could easily answer.
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[He could leave it here. He should leave it here. He has barely made a dent in this mountain of paperwork and his forehead is dripping with sweat. His forehead is dripping. He should...]
When I believed you to be dead, I felt as though I too deserved death.
Is that what you want to hear?
Is that enough for your greedy gullet?
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i won't let porcelain outpace me.
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If a written message can be tentative, then this one will be:]
You were being serious, then.
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this i can accept
time is a material as i've said
whether the choice to use it was noble or foul, i did use it
but now i am also held to wrestle with the knowledge that it has been granted unto someone else
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There is no other word for it. For this blatant display of...
It's insanity.]
You are indeed envious toward the porcelain statuette of Saint Estinien of Ferndale that I keep on my bedside table. Do I have the right of it?
[So why, pray tell, is Aymeric smiling about it?]
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for someone rubbed so raw by perceived mockery you indulge in plenty of it yourself.
yet it's entirely your own concoction.
my envy of that thing is only as great as your favoritism toward it.
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Estinien, I missed you so dearly.
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