[ not this time! well, kind of. there's no reconstruction of a crime scene.
instead, dion gets to open the door to... a town! right away, he can feel the cool autumn breeze whistle through the reds and golds and yellows of trees at the very peak of fall. in the distance, he can see the faint outlines of mountains - the pathway under his feet is paved with stones, and small houses dot the space between the trees, dappled with sunlight from up above. the air smells like crisp fall and the smoke of a burning hearth, and occasionally, he might hear the bleating of a sheep. it is a peaceful, idyllic little mountain town. welcome to flamechurch!
temenos is standing a little ways down the path, back to the door. he's holding something in his hands - closer inspection will show just a notebook, and that he's just writing in it, sketching out what looks like an outline of the ship's layout. as usual, he does seem fairly lost in his own thoughts - but not comatose about it, at least. just waiting for company. ]
It is. This is Flamechurch, village in the Crestlands and heart of the Order of the Sacred Flame.
[ the most aptly named town in the entire world. he shuts his notebook and tucks it into his pocket. ]
I find that a walk in the mountains oft clears my head in moments of great strife. Perhaps you'll accompany me on a pilgrimage. [ that's a bit of a joke, there - though it's softer on the edges than usual. ] You wanted to see the sun, did you not? Simulated as it may be.
[ he has to smile as he listens to temenos' explanation, thinking of his own home and the similarities between them. how strange how faiths universes apart could manifest in such nostalgic ways.
the question catches his attention again, bringing it back from where it had wandered to their surroundings once more, expression both grateful and full of regret. ]
That I did. I... am thankful for your consideration. [ closing his eyes, ] Though I cannot say if I would give it the appreciation it is due in this moment.
Experiences can be repeated. [ with a soft huff, he shakes his head and gestures onwards with his staff - up the mountain path. come along, little lamb. ] Besides, it is more the journey than it is anything otherwise.
[ there's a beat, once they start walking, and temenos' voice softens. ]
... I'm sorry, for your loss. I know that you and his highness were fairly close.
[ temenos is right, so he doesn't offer up any further hesitations as they wander up out of the town on the mountain path. its the unevenness of the ground that strikes him as reminiscent of home first, the dirt and stone path so different from the artificial floors of the ships.
he keeps his gaze askance, unable to disguise the grief there. ]
I believe Prince Sidon brought light to all those that spent time with him on this ship. It is a difficult loss to bear for many.
[ you were like don't mind if im slow and the reality is i, grandma, was asleep by 10:30. anyway
temenos is respectful of the look away - of course, right? what better way to be a cleric than to be the one who listens. he keeps his hands folded behind his back, leading the way up. the path slopes gently, winding, and if he looks down, he can see the stones are worn by time. thousands of footsteps have crossed this place, even in temenos' simulated memory.
up ahead, a mountain tunnel awaits, but for now, it's just sunshine and autumn wind. ]
Mn. I would agree. He was - well. It was quite hard to not enjoy his company, I think. [ sidon was definitely a moodmaker. ] ...It is frustrating: lights like Sidon are the ones that the world so often finds a way to snuff out.
the wind, the sunshine, and all of temenos' kind efforts do little to lift dion's mood. he supposes temenos is right, or maybe not. there are few lights in valisthea that he can think of. perhaps they've already been taken from the world.
he stops a moment, looking at temenos, trying to read his expression. ]
We were not as close, but I enjoyed the time we spent together, where we did.
[ after that, temenos is quiet, for a long moment. he gets like this - he's long stretches of thoughtful, inward seeking as always. however... ]
... He reminded me very much of someone that I knew, once. At least in his personality. [ the week's changes come here, too - stained glass panels that threaten to crawl up the side of his neck under his vestments, up his cheek. ]
[ it climbs further as he pauses. talking about this is nigh impossible - he has to work around a blockage in his chest, brambles in his throat to even get the words out. ]
...Yes. A very dear friend. [ ... ] But, that is a story for another time. What happened to his highness is in the present.
[ there's a very slight crook of a smile - temenos glances over, and the panels pause, starting to retract back downwards, disappearing into a cassock. ]
There's hardly a better person to be honest with than a priest. [ it's almost lofty, playfully chiding. however, he acknowledges it, wry - he gets it. in fact, him shooting it back to sidon is the exact same tactic. ]
[ he frowns, and there's no thoughtshare required to know that he's thinking about all the reasons he has not to be honest with a priest, but it doesn't last long, his attention returning again to the path, the woods, and the sun overhead.
it is nice to be in the sun, and he tilts his head up to the sky. ]
What shall I say? I am no stranger to grief, and I have no desire to share my misery with others.
[ a sigh ]
I apologize for being ungrateful of your kindness.
[ wow???? look at him he's so trustworthy??? well, actually. maybe he is, if only because he is not exactly your normal priest.
temenos chuckles a little, at the end. ]
You hardly need to apologize. [ because, well. it's not like he doesn't get it. ] Nor do you need to force it. But - while I perhaps am not the physically strongest among us, I am rather good at helping to lighten others' loads.
[ there's a little smile with the light joke. ]
We can talk about something else. Or walk in the silence, if you'd so prefer.
[ he smiles, just barely, before he continues up the path to the mountain ]
... I find myself torn between the need to press on and forge a path forward, and the desire to keep still a moment sit with this grief. There is ever little time to rest and truly grapple with loss on this ship. [ ... ] Perhaps we are not deserving of it.
[ anyway he can't look at him after saying that because he's a giant weenie about having a single emotion so he turns his face away after, listening. up the hill they go.
the mountain path stretches out to a small tunnel - a cutout in a rock face. inside, he can hear the sound of a small waterfall hitting the surface of a lake; torches light a continued path upwards, and the light at the end of the tunnel is not far. ]
Not deserving. [ interesting. ] Why do you think that?
[ he smiles, even as temenos turns away, turning his gaze ahead as they walk, enjoying the sound of the water, the wind in the trees and the smell of grass around them.
he purses his lips briefly before answering. ]
We live, while others have died. It is a privilege and a responsibility both, and we ought to make the most of our time by making progress.
I can't say that I disagree. [ that hits - maybe more than he really shows, but it does. doesn't temenos know how that feels, to be the one who survives. there was always a mystery to solve. always a truth to be uncovered. ]
... At this very moment, we've no progress to make. As much as I have tried to break into the varying crime scenes, week to week [ and believe me, he has Tried ] that is ineffective. These accursed Fridays leave us only time to ponder the potentials, a practice which can lead down dark paths without evidence or physicality to go on.
Perhaps there is no better time for grief than today. Tomorrow, we walk forwards and find the truth. No matter how ugly, no matter how painful, we find it.
You are right, though it is this... grieving on schedule that I find so loathsome. [ he puts a hand to his chest ] But I suppose there is little choice but to play along with the rules of this ship, like puppets on a string.
[ he sighs ]
... I apologize, Temenos. I do not mean to seem ungrateful for your kindness or your counsel.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
instead, dion gets to open the door to... a town! right away, he can feel the cool autumn breeze whistle through the reds and golds and yellows of trees at the very peak of fall. in the distance, he can see the faint outlines of mountains - the pathway under his feet is paved with stones, and small houses dot the space between the trees, dappled with sunlight from up above. the air smells like crisp fall and the smoke of a burning hearth, and occasionally, he might hear the bleating of a sheep. it is a peaceful, idyllic little mountain town. welcome to flamechurch!
temenos is standing a little ways down the path, back to the door. he's holding something in his hands - closer inspection will show just a notebook, and that he's just writing in it, sketching out what looks like an outline of the ship's layout. as usual, he does seem fairly lost in his own thoughts - but not comatose about it, at least. just waiting for company. ]
no subject
his posture straightens when he sees temenos, walking over with steady steps and a sombre expression. ]
Temenos. [ a nod of his head. ] Is this your home?
no subject
[ the most aptly named town in the entire world. he shuts his notebook and tucks it into his pocket. ]
I find that a walk in the mountains oft clears my head in moments of great strife. Perhaps you'll accompany me on a pilgrimage. [ that's a bit of a joke, there - though it's softer on the edges than usual. ] You wanted to see the sun, did you not? Simulated as it may be.
no subject
the question catches his attention again, bringing it back from where it had wandered to their surroundings once more, expression both grateful and full of regret. ]
That I did. I... am thankful for your consideration. [ closing his eyes, ] Though I cannot say if I would give it the appreciation it is due in this moment.
no subject
[ there's a beat, once they start walking, and temenos' voice softens. ]
... I'm sorry, for your loss. I know that you and his highness were fairly close.
no subject
he keeps his gaze askance, unable to disguise the grief there. ]
I believe Prince Sidon brought light to all those that spent time with him on this ship. It is a difficult loss to bear for many.
no subject
temenos is respectful of the look away - of course, right? what better way to be a cleric than to be the one who listens. he keeps his hands folded behind his back, leading the way up. the path slopes gently, winding, and if he looks down, he can see the stones are worn by time. thousands of footsteps have crossed this place, even in temenos' simulated memory.
up ahead, a mountain tunnel awaits, but for now, it's just sunshine and autumn wind. ]
Mn. I would agree. He was - well. It was quite hard to not enjoy his company, I think. [ sidon was definitely a moodmaker. ] ...It is frustrating: lights like Sidon are the ones that the world so often finds a way to snuff out.
no subject
the wind, the sunshine, and all of temenos' kind efforts do little to lift dion's mood. he supposes temenos is right, or maybe not. there are few lights in valisthea that he can think of. perhaps they've already been taken from the world.
he stops a moment, looking at temenos, trying to read his expression. ]
Did you care for him?
no subject
[ after that, temenos is quiet, for a long moment. he gets like this - he's long stretches of thoughtful, inward seeking as always. however... ]
... He reminded me very much of someone that I knew, once. At least in his personality. [ the week's changes come here, too - stained glass panels that threaten to crawl up the side of his neck under his vestments, up his cheek. ]
no subject
From your Order?
no subject
...Yes. A very dear friend. [ ... ] But, that is a story for another time. What happened to his highness is in the present.
no subject
[ he tilts his head ]
... Granted I am a hypocrite, given that I first asked only because I am hesitant to be honest with you.
no subject
There's hardly a better person to be honest with than a priest. [ it's almost lofty, playfully chiding. however, he acknowledges it, wry - he gets it. in fact, him shooting it back to sidon is the exact same tactic. ]
Come. Speak to me: your words here are sacred.
no subject
it is nice to be in the sun, and he tilts his head up to the sky. ]
What shall I say? I am no stranger to grief, and I have no desire to share my misery with others.
[ a sigh ]
I apologize for being ungrateful of your kindness.
no subject
temenos chuckles a little, at the end. ]
You hardly need to apologize. [ because, well. it's not like he doesn't get it. ] Nor do you need to force it. But - while I perhaps am not the physically strongest among us, I am rather good at helping to lighten others' loads.
[ there's a little smile with the light joke. ]
We can talk about something else. Or walk in the silence, if you'd so prefer.
no subject
Why is it that you reached out to me?
no subject
[ a simple answer! ]
For all that we have been through here - we ought not go through the more difficult things alone.
no subject
[ he smiles, just barely, before he continues up the path to the mountain ]
... I find myself torn between the need to press on and forge a path forward, and the desire to keep still a moment sit with this grief. There is ever little time to rest and truly grapple with loss on this ship. [ ... ] Perhaps we are not deserving of it.
no subject
You are the one who said we are friends.
[ anyway he can't look at him after saying that because he's a giant weenie about having a single emotion so he turns his face away after, listening. up the hill they go.
the mountain path stretches out to a small tunnel - a cutout in a rock face. inside, he can hear the sound of a small waterfall hitting the surface of a lake; torches light a continued path upwards, and the light at the end of the tunnel is not far. ]
Not deserving. [ interesting. ] Why do you think that?
no subject
he purses his lips briefly before answering. ]
We live, while others have died. It is a privilege and a responsibility both, and we ought to make the most of our time by making progress.
Even if it leaves little time to grieve.
no subject
I can't say that I disagree. [ that hits - maybe more than he really shows, but it does. doesn't temenos know how that feels, to be the one who survives. there was always a mystery to solve. always a truth to be uncovered. ]
... At this very moment, we've no progress to make. As much as I have tried to break into the varying crime scenes, week to week [ and believe me, he has Tried ] that is ineffective. These accursed Fridays leave us only time to ponder the potentials, a practice which can lead down dark paths without evidence or physicality to go on.
Perhaps there is no better time for grief than today. Tomorrow, we walk forwards and find the truth. No matter how ugly, no matter how painful, we find it.
no subject
[ he sighs ]
... I apologize, Temenos. I do not mean to seem ungrateful for your kindness or your counsel.