[ This is an unfamiliar tone of voice, from Malkuth, as she speaks of Elijah. It's softer, tinged with the rueful sort of fondness that nostalgic moments might evoke, as if she is reminiscing to remember an old friend, not her own past life. Yesod listens while they make for their train, quiet, taking in Malkuth's smile. Her memories of that distant time, the span of Elijah's life before it ended, may be incomplete, perhaps more left to recall little by little, but what she recounts tells him things that he certainly didn't know.
They were all so focused on the results slipping further and further out of reach.
It changes nothing to regret it in another life, to wonder whether anything would have taken a different course, had their research team been close-knit, friends as well as colleagues. He was far from someone even remotely like Carmen or Daniel, and it's possible that the others believed that he disliked them — no doubt they thought him heartless in the wake of tragedy after tragedy, initially, and then too fragile, pathetic after all.
Unlike Malkuth, Yesod realizes, he can't quite refer to Gabriel as a separate person. I haven't been outside since I became like this, he'd said, though his current existence comes with its own memories, fencing off his first life as a closed chapter of the past. It consisted of an ordinary Nest resident's days, and the solitude of connecting with none of his peers there, the suffocation, until he left the City proper behind. Beyond that, it feels somewhat like remembering increasingly unpleasant dreams that end in blurred fragments of distress.
It's out of place in this conversation, and he tucks it out of sight. Maybe they would all celebrate occasions to commemorate together, in the Library.
He attempts a smile in turn, at the very least, when Malkuth brightens — never mind that he has no way of knowing whether he feels significantly more inclined to smile in the future, with a human body that possesses facial muscles to put to use for that purpose. Today won't change the past, no, but he can make it his contribution to Malkuth's goal. ]
That seems reasonable.
[ To choose a day that belongs to Malkuth as much as it will acknowledge that Elijah remains a part of her soul. ]
no subject
They were all so focused on the results slipping further and further out of reach.
It changes nothing to regret it in another life, to wonder whether anything would have taken a different course, had their research team been close-knit, friends as well as colleagues. He was far from someone even remotely like Carmen or Daniel, and it's possible that the others believed that he disliked them — no doubt they thought him heartless in the wake of tragedy after tragedy, initially, and then too fragile, pathetic after all.
Unlike Malkuth, Yesod realizes, he can't quite refer to Gabriel as a separate person. I haven't been outside since I became like this, he'd said, though his current existence comes with its own memories, fencing off his first life as a closed chapter of the past. It consisted of an ordinary Nest resident's days, and the solitude of connecting with none of his peers there, the suffocation, until he left the City proper behind. Beyond that, it feels somewhat like remembering increasingly unpleasant dreams that end in blurred fragments of distress.
It's out of place in this conversation, and he tucks it out of sight. Maybe they would all celebrate occasions to commemorate together, in the Library.
He attempts a smile in turn, at the very least, when Malkuth brightens — never mind that he has no way of knowing whether he feels significantly more inclined to smile in the future, with a human body that possesses facial muscles to put to use for that purpose. Today won't change the past, no, but he can make it his contribution to Malkuth's goal. ]
That seems reasonable.
[ To choose a day that belongs to Malkuth as much as it will acknowledge that Elijah remains a part of her soul. ]
Then it won't go forgotten, this time.