[Akechi nods in response, a quick, firm little movement, mouth pressed together into a thin, worrying line.]
It was unpleasant, at first. Having them all return like they did, with the understanding that I'd been the one to give them away. [If not for Ren, he would have shaken to pieces due to the overwhelming guilt alone.] My mother wasn't perfect, but - she deserves to be remembered, especially when I'm the only one left who can.
[But this still doesn't completely explain why Akechi is here.]
It's been months now, but you mentioned there were times you came close to forgetting your own family, in the wake of their absence. I thought... Perhaps if we shared memories important to us with each other, if anything happens, they won't just disappear completely again.
[Caduceus blinks, initially. And then he realizes, after a moment, that he's no longer truly surprised by Akechi showing kindness in this way. He talks a big game and he's been wounded more times than Caduceus will ever know, yet this is another instance of him showing care in a way most, at a glance, would not predict. He feels very foolish, in this moment. He also feels... somewhat claimed.
He smiles, his expression softening.]
I'd like that, yeah. [It's been a year now since he's seen his own family, as opposed to the near-decade before the Mighty Nein rescued them from the gorgon's petrification. Their faces, their voices are clearer than before. But it's still... tricky, sometimes. Fuzzy. He only saw them for a day or so before their ties were severed once more, by travel, and then this place.
Still, their family lives were very different, as were their upbringings, so he is compelled to ask next,] Would it hurt you, to hear me talk about them?
[He doesn't mind listening, of course. And Akechi likely wants this to be a reciprocal thing, so it won't feel like one more debt. But the last thing he wants to do is cause this boy more pain.]
[Akechi's response is quick and clipped, an immediate answer before he'll even allow himself to consider otherwise. As far as he's concerned, there is no other answer.]
I'm not so delicate that a mere conversation would hurt my feelings.
[It's not completely true, but in this situation, where his deepest wounds have been forcefully reopened, Akechi can't imagine anything hurting as much as this. Besides, as much as he's loathe to admit it, there's some truth he'd rather not acknowledge in the sharing of burdens with others, how not keeping it trapped inside of him makes it so much easier to carry.]
I'd like to hear about them, whatever it is you care to share with me.
Hm. [It's a quick answer initially, but Caduceus believes him, especially with the follow-up.] Alright.
[He thinks for a moment. There's a lot he could say - the perk and downside of having quite a large family - but he opts for the most topical and relevant to... current company, and the subject at hand.]
My mother's name is Constance. A firbolg of course, like me. I take after her the most, in both aesthetics and our faith. She taught me how to cultivate the moss we dye our hair with, how to weave and garden. She walked me through my first burials, our rituals and rites, how to grieve and remember and carry on living. I would not be who I am today without her.
[His hand lifts to his neck, tugging something out from under his collar- not the periapt he'd given to Akechi before, like one might expect, but a different necklace.]
She gave me this, before I left. The night I was brought here. Her symbol of the Wildmother, what acts as a conduit between Her power and ourselves. I'd never seen her take it off before.
[It's a simple, but quite beautiful woven gold cord, with a sculpted wreath at the center, leafy greens with a shepherd's hook through the center, made of polished clay.]
She said, "A little part of us goes with you. A little part of home." I've thought about it often, stuck here, without anyone I know. Trying not to feel alone.
no subject
It was unpleasant, at first. Having them all return like they did, with the understanding that I'd been the one to give them away. [If not for Ren, he would have shaken to pieces due to the overwhelming guilt alone.] My mother wasn't perfect, but - she deserves to be remembered, especially when I'm the only one left who can.
[But this still doesn't completely explain why Akechi is here.]
It's been months now, but you mentioned there were times you came close to forgetting your own family, in the wake of their absence. I thought... Perhaps if we shared memories important to us with each other, if anything happens, they won't just disappear completely again.
no subject
He smiles, his expression softening.]
I'd like that, yeah. [It's been a year now since he's seen his own family, as opposed to the near-decade before the Mighty Nein rescued them from the gorgon's petrification. Their faces, their voices are clearer than before. But it's still... tricky, sometimes. Fuzzy. He only saw them for a day or so before their ties were severed once more, by travel, and then this place.
Still, their family lives were very different, as were their upbringings, so he is compelled to ask next,] Would it hurt you, to hear me talk about them?
[He doesn't mind listening, of course. And Akechi likely wants this to be a reciprocal thing, so it won't feel like one more debt. But the last thing he wants to do is cause this boy more pain.]
no subject
[Akechi's response is quick and clipped, an immediate answer before he'll even allow himself to consider otherwise. As far as he's concerned, there is no other answer.]
I'm not so delicate that a mere conversation would hurt my feelings.
[It's not completely true, but in this situation, where his deepest wounds have been forcefully reopened, Akechi can't imagine anything hurting as much as this. Besides, as much as he's loathe to admit it, there's some truth he'd rather not acknowledge in the sharing of burdens with others, how not keeping it trapped inside of him makes it so much easier to carry.]
I'd like to hear about them, whatever it is you care to share with me.
no subject
[He thinks for a moment. There's a lot he could say - the perk and downside of having quite a large family - but he opts for the most topical and relevant to... current company, and the subject at hand.]
My mother's name is Constance. A firbolg of course, like me. I take after her the most, in both aesthetics and our faith. She taught me how to cultivate the moss we dye our hair with, how to weave and garden. She walked me through my first burials, our rituals and rites, how to grieve and remember and carry on living. I would not be who I am today without her.
[His hand lifts to his neck, tugging something out from under his collar- not the periapt he'd given to Akechi before, like one might expect, but a different necklace.]
She gave me this, before I left. The night I was brought here. Her symbol of the Wildmother, what acts as a conduit between Her power and ourselves. I'd never seen her take it off before.
[It's a simple, but quite beautiful woven gold cord, with a sculpted wreath at the center, leafy greens with a shepherd's hook through the center, made of polished clay.]
She said, "A little part of us goes with you. A little part of home." I've thought about it often, stuck here, without anyone I know. Trying not to feel alone.