[ There's a hitch in Emet-Selch's otherwise intent touches, not quite flinching but neither does he move for a breath before he catches himself. That is the ideal, is it not? Was the ideal, anyway. Return together. Discover how their edges overlap and intermingle, and then find each other, learn each other again. The thought had been a very tempting carrot at the end of a very long stick. He wonders how much of Viktor's thoughts and desires regarding their souls are his own, and how much the memory of a potential ending impressed upon his soul.
Perhaps more irritating is the knowledge that he might simply be wrong. Such a event does not occur naturally in the aetherial sea as it is. What he assumes might happen is, frustratingly, because of their work. He has no way of knowing just how drastically their work has changed the souls on the different shards, but the Thirteenth is one of the worst potential options. If he knew without hesitation, without doubt that such a thing would not occur, he might be more easily swayed. He might see the inherent romanticism in what he'd always considered a rather romantic ending, even if he would never admit it. Viktor's fingers tangle in his hair and Emet-Selch hates how easily he wants to fold at so casual a touch, how much he thinks about being touched when once he used to be able to ignore the thought easily. ]
It...could. However unlikely the chance, there is a chance, though it is the most unlikely one.
[ He knows he's treading ground he's already walked upon, explaining what has already been explained but better here not to be misunderstood, he thinks. Not with a subject that is so delicate. Not when one of Viktor's most charming traits his his inability to take no for an answer, and to physically manifest a different answer through sheer force of will.
Part of Emet-Selch would like to think that he's already seen Viktor naked a couple times, and so the novelty would have worn off. A naked body is like any other naked body, save for a few differences; the soul is the truest version of someone, regardless of what their flesh and blood resembles. He can talk himself in circles all he wants; it is wildly ineffective. Emet-Selch's eyes linger first on his shoulders and then trace down, belatedly shaking himself out of the trance and looking back at Viktor's expression as he steps in closer, fiddling with Emet-Selch's own clothing slow enough it seems like he waits for Emet-Selch to tell him no. He settles for a complaint that sounds toothless, even to him. ]
I am able to divest myself of my very uncomplicated clothing.
[ Further trips are, he supposes, not out of the question. Not ideal necessarily, not when they are not certain of the state of those different shards, but he understands the necessity of doing so. Pressed this close, the heat of Viktor's body is nearly more tempting than the hot water awaiting them; if they hadn't been wandering about in creature and cobweb-infested areas, he might not be so eager to freshen up. They were though, and even with a magic spell to clean oneself off, there was still a feeling that lingered until a proper bath or shower was had.
Viktor steps in close, eliminating any desire to think about mortality, instead replacing it with the utterly insane desire to sweep the robe on either side of him to keep all that bare skin from becoming too chill. As if they weren't going to get into the bath in a moment as if he weren't responsible for that chill in the first place. ]
And if we cannot make that connection, what then? I cannot feel any drastic changes to the Underworld as it is, but the connection is best, sharpest when actually on that shard. [ He won't know, not until he gets there, not until they check the state. ]
no subject
Perhaps more irritating is the knowledge that he might simply be wrong. Such a event does not occur naturally in the aetherial sea as it is. What he assumes might happen is, frustratingly, because of their work. He has no way of knowing just how drastically their work has changed the souls on the different shards, but the Thirteenth is one of the worst potential options. If he knew without hesitation, without doubt that such a thing would not occur, he might be more easily swayed. He might see the inherent romanticism in what he'd always considered a rather romantic ending, even if he would never admit it. Viktor's fingers tangle in his hair and Emet-Selch hates how easily he wants to fold at so casual a touch, how much he thinks about being touched when once he used to be able to ignore the thought easily. ]
It...could. However unlikely the chance, there is a chance, though it is the most unlikely one.
[ He knows he's treading ground he's already walked upon, explaining what has already been explained but better here not to be misunderstood, he thinks. Not with a subject that is so delicate. Not when one of Viktor's most charming traits his his inability to take no for an answer, and to physically manifest a different answer through sheer force of will.
Part of Emet-Selch would like to think that he's already seen Viktor naked a couple times, and so the novelty would have worn off. A naked body is like any other naked body, save for a few differences; the soul is the truest version of someone, regardless of what their flesh and blood resembles. He can talk himself in circles all he wants; it is wildly ineffective. Emet-Selch's eyes linger first on his shoulders and then trace down, belatedly shaking himself out of the trance and looking back at Viktor's expression as he steps in closer, fiddling with Emet-Selch's own clothing slow enough it seems like he waits for Emet-Selch to tell him no. He settles for a complaint that sounds toothless, even to him. ]
I am able to divest myself of my very uncomplicated clothing.
[ Further trips are, he supposes, not out of the question. Not ideal necessarily, not when they are not certain of the state of those different shards, but he understands the necessity of doing so. Pressed this close, the heat of Viktor's body is nearly more tempting than the hot water awaiting them; if they hadn't been wandering about in creature and cobweb-infested areas, he might not be so eager to freshen up. They were though, and even with a magic spell to clean oneself off, there was still a feeling that lingered until a proper bath or shower was had.
Viktor steps in close, eliminating any desire to think about mortality, instead replacing it with the utterly insane desire to sweep the robe on either side of him to keep all that bare skin from becoming too chill. As if they weren't going to get into the bath in a moment as if he weren't responsible for that chill in the first place. ]
And if we cannot make that connection, what then? I cannot feel any drastic changes to the Underworld as it is, but the connection is best, sharpest when actually on that shard. [ He won't know, not until he gets there, not until they check the state. ]