[it takes him aback - when perhaps it shouldn't. perhaps he should give people more credit than this. for all he thinks of his death and its inevitability, he does not think often of those who might mourn him. he thinks of practical things, like whether joo-doh will be able to keep the tribes in order once he's gone or who ought to be his successor.
he does not think that people would dare to care for him - even knowing what he's done. when jeanne offers her words, he looks surprised and his hand tightens in hers minutely, involuntarily, and only for half a second.]
... those certainly aren't words that I expected to hear from someone I have known but two weeks.
[and yet.
and.... yet.]
Thank you.
Knowing you has touched mine as well, Jeanne.
[he doesn't know if these are words that he deserves - but despite this, he cannot help but selfishly curl into their warmth. even if he cannot truly accept joy while he lives, he hopes it's alright that he entertains the notion that he might be missed when he's gone.]
[ The way he looks surprised, the way his hold tightens even for half a second makes something ache within her. It makes her want to reach out, but she clamps down on it.
To do more than support, bolster, and empower is to make an exception, and to make such a distinction is not something she intends to do. For as long as Servants can live, to be a Servant is to also be transient. She already knows how people thought of her after her death. It's knowledge that she would not quite call a blessing.
Even so.
Even so...
She places her other hand over their clasped hands. ]
Perhaps it's what makes me foolish still, but one does not always need a long time to cause change. At the very least, I don't want to be someone who can't be touched.
[ Even if she's no longer human, she can still be human, and even if she no longer has the right to love or be loved, her heart is still open. ]
no subject
he does not think that people would dare to care for him - even knowing what he's done. when jeanne offers her words, he looks surprised and his hand tightens in hers minutely, involuntarily, and only for half a second.]
... those certainly aren't words that I expected to hear from someone I have known but two weeks.
[and yet.
and.... yet.]
Thank you.
Knowing you has touched mine as well, Jeanne.
[he doesn't know if these are words that he deserves - but despite this, he cannot help but selfishly curl into their warmth. even if he cannot truly accept joy while he lives, he hopes it's alright that he entertains the notion that he might be missed when he's gone.]
no subject
To do more than support, bolster, and empower is to make an exception, and to make such a distinction is not something she intends to do. For as long as Servants can live, to be a Servant is to also be transient. She already knows how people thought of her after her death. It's knowledge that she would not quite call a blessing.
Even so.
Even so...
She places her other hand over their clasped hands. ]
Perhaps it's what makes me foolish still, but one does not always need a long time to cause change. At the very least, I don't want to be someone who can't be touched.
[ Even if she's no longer human, she can still be human, and even if she no longer has the right to love or be loved, her heart is still open. ]