[There's no harm, surely, in checking again. True, they're both staring at it, and true, they've both reached the same conclusion, but Horatio leans in all the same to scrutinize just a hair closer.
Not that it will make a difference. Giving up simply stings with a distinct ferocity he hates.
Amazingly, staring harder doesn't actually change the lack of a year on the document. His nose wrinkles briefly, in a thoughtless moment of comfort.]
[To be fair, he's been pulled here by some sort of magic. Some sort of gods have shown themselves to be real. The orderly world Horatio had been raised in on the edge of his father's surgery has already been more than upended by the fact they're here at all.
And yet this, apparently, is where something incredulous bleeds into Horatio's voice.]
[ Ain's voice has always been flat, but there's a firmness to it that indicates conviction. It's not impossible, and he's not seen any proof to the contrary... not that such proofs would be easy to come by, in any means. The gods have always been distant and he's starting to feel like he's involved in a civil war more than a clash between gods and demonkind. Not that it matters, though. The covenant is a covenant and he has to obey it.
It wouldn't be so different from the enchanted barrier around Elrianode that kept the Tower asleep for centuries. It's entirely possible. ]
Maybe it's to maintain a semblance of order. To protect the people here from some unimaginable, creeping terror.
[ The notion that one's life is meaningless and to be put at risk. Surely a human would feel despair upon knowing that they were just fodder and pieces in some greater game. Humans tend to feel like that... well, they wouldn't lose their bodies just by having that sort of feelings, of course. Ain can see where that would be inconvenient.
Or maybe he's just thinking too much, but since there's no reason to not believe in what might be a conspiracy theory, he'll just go ahead and believe in it. ]
[Humanity is, and has always been, a terribly odd thing. Despair and hope tended to live in exactly the same breath, separated by some odd razor's edge that one's own mind didn't fully understand.
Horatio's cheeks puff out thoughtfully for a moment, attention sweeping the Acta one more time. It won't have changed, but checking again for things one knows aren't there is another painfully human trait.]
What sort of terror comes from a year?
[The thought isn't a dismissive one. It's simply another push at the data and the hypothesis.
They won't get anywhere with all this magic and religion without the scientific process, surely.]
I don't know. From the realization that they're all destined to die, perhaps. Conflicts between gods tend to have heavy mortal casualties.
[ His voice returns to deadpan, though there's a drip of sarcasm in it. Once they wake up from an illusion, they start to question whether reality itself is real. Plenty of stuff he's seen especially in regions with large demon populations. ]
Don't suppose we can knock on a god's door and ask?
[ Wry as it is, it's the start of an idea that takes shape in his mind. Even if Ishmael would never speak to him, perhaps things are different here. It's... no, it's not hope. It's only tactical planning. An avenue for confirmation and analysis of potential failures. One must not harbour hope when dealing with the divine. ]
It seems like they are the best source of any answers we might need.
[Ain's right, of course. Whatever a body wanted to believe about all of this, from their odd arrival to the established presence of something claiming to be gods, there didn't seem to be much else to throw oneself at.
Thank goodness, at least, for not having to do it alone.]
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2018-12-16 07:23 pm (UTC)[There's no harm, surely, in checking again. True, they're both staring at it, and true, they've both reached the same conclusion, but Horatio leans in all the same to scrutinize just a hair closer.
Not that it will make a difference. Giving up simply stings with a distinct ferocity he hates.
Amazingly, staring harder doesn't actually change the lack of a year on the document. His nose wrinkles briefly, in a thoughtless moment of comfort.]
And no one's-- said? When you've asked?
no subject
Date: 2018-12-17 03:35 pm (UTC)[ While maybe it is weird that one would ask what the current year is... he can't shake the nagging feeling that something is causing this change. ]
I think... maybe the people here are cursed. To forget the year. They are under a spell and so they cannot tell us because they don't know.
no subject
Date: 2018-12-19 02:01 am (UTC)[To be fair, he's been pulled here by some sort of magic. Some sort of gods have shown themselves to be real. The orderly world Horatio had been raised in on the edge of his father's surgery has already been more than upended by the fact they're here at all.
And yet this, apparently, is where something incredulous bleeds into Horatio's voice.]
no subject
Date: 2018-12-21 03:54 pm (UTC)[ Ain's voice has always been flat, but there's a firmness to it that indicates conviction. It's not impossible, and he's not seen any proof to the contrary... not that such proofs would be easy to come by, in any means. The gods have always been distant and he's starting to feel like he's involved in a civil war more than a clash between gods and demonkind. Not that it matters, though. The covenant is a covenant and he has to obey it.
It wouldn't be so different from the enchanted barrier around Elrianode that kept the Tower asleep for centuries. It's entirely possible. ]
Maybe it's to maintain a semblance of order. To protect the people here from some unimaginable, creeping terror.
[ The notion that one's life is meaningless and to be put at risk. Surely a human would feel despair upon knowing that they were just fodder and pieces in some greater game. Humans tend to feel like that... well, they wouldn't lose their bodies just by having that sort of feelings, of course. Ain can see where that would be inconvenient.
Or maybe he's just thinking too much, but since there's no reason to not believe in what might be a conspiracy theory, he'll just go ahead and believe in it. ]
no subject
Date: 2018-12-24 01:09 pm (UTC)Horatio's cheeks puff out thoughtfully for a moment, attention sweeping the Acta one more time. It won't have changed, but checking again for things one knows aren't there is another painfully human trait.]
What sort of terror comes from a year?
[The thought isn't a dismissive one. It's simply another push at the data and the hypothesis.
They won't get anywhere with all this magic and religion without the scientific process, surely.]
no subject
Date: 2018-12-30 01:15 pm (UTC)[ His voice returns to deadpan, though there's a drip of sarcasm in it. Once they wake up from an illusion, they start to question whether reality itself is real. Plenty of stuff he's seen especially in regions with large demon populations. ]
Don't suppose we can knock on a god's door and ask?
no subject
Date: 2018-12-30 04:47 pm (UTC)Nothing breeds natural sympathy quite like a mutual dryness in the face of the world.]
The altars are a bit like doors.
no subject
Date: 2019-01-01 11:36 am (UTC)[ Wry as it is, it's the start of an idea that takes shape in his mind. Even if Ishmael would never speak to him, perhaps things are different here. It's... no, it's not hope. It's only tactical planning. An avenue for confirmation and analysis of potential failures. One must not harbour hope when dealing with the divine. ]
It seems like they are the best source of any answers we might need.
no subject
Date: 2019-01-05 03:06 pm (UTC)[Ain's right, of course. Whatever a body wanted to believe about all of this, from their odd arrival to the established presence of something claiming to be gods, there didn't seem to be much else to throw oneself at.
Thank goodness, at least, for not having to do it alone.]
no subject
Date: 2019-01-06 12:10 pm (UTC)Thanks. [ A pause as he looks down, figuring that he should clarify. ] For coming with me.
no subject
Date: 2019-01-11 01:17 am (UTC)--thank you for having me along.
[That's much more the direction thanks ought to be going.]