[Being in Kaisou is… mostly new to Phainon, these days. Beyond his forced cryosleep for the past four years in Meropide, he barely knows the city at all. While the Black Order had moved his team from place to place, he’d never truly settled somewhere long enough to really get to know it as well as he’d like.
So, naturally, extrovert that he is, exploration becomes his main goal now in Kaisou. As it stands, Phainon visits the buildings that catch his interest first- the Crystal Tower, Blue Fish Park, Kaisou’s mall- all of which he finds something to love and easily enjoy.
Today’s agenda is no different- he’s in the library and trying to find books on both history and potentially appraisal. There’s plenty he has to catch up on over the past four years, and simply coasting by isn’t enough. Sitting at one of the tables in the main room at least allows him to spread his work. One hand is in a book about Athenian Greek pottery, the other in a history textbook over recent historical events in the past decade. Split between these two is a notebook with scrawled ramblings that seem to be turning more and more into illegible chicken scratch as Phainon’s eyes keep crossing in trying to read what he can. He looks like an exhausted college student who’s caught between studying for two tests, even if that’s not even close to the truth.
After another moment, he pulls back, both hands withdrawing and scrubbing his face instead.]
If I read anything else about digital currency or "metaphorical gazes" I think my brain is going to explode.
[A very clear whine, but he doesn’t raise his voice too much. It is the library, after all, and the last thing he needs is to be scolded for speaking loudly.]
[ Mydei's arrival had been... chaotic. moving in itself had always been something he wasn't entirely looking for too, a part him hesitant to leave his mother behind in Sparta while he established a new life elsewhere. but it had been her insistence that he go, that he meet his half-brother, that he see more than the same walls and faces he had spent the last twenty two years with. he hadn't the strength to deny her, even without the distant voice in his mind the urged him to go, because Gorgo will always get what she wants in the end.
but then there was meeting his half-brother and all that entailed, thinking on it now made his head throb and his chest constrict. better not to think on it for loo long, else his sleeping companion decides to wake and urge Mydei to suplex him again. all of it is too new, too fragile, and as such must be handled with the utmost care. which is, in part, exactly why he finds himself drawn to the library─ the perfect place to convalesce and consider what his next moves will be.
if only his thirst for knowledge did not so quickly distract him from his original goal.
he had been thumbing through a book when the voice hits his ears, sharp and familiar, making him lose his place in the epic. ordinarily Mydei would have grumbled to himself and moved elsewhere, continuing his reading a quieter corner of the library but today? something about the voice grates him, forcing his feet to stride right over to the man's table. one hand bracing against the surface as Mydei bodily leans down to hiss in the man's ear. ]
[It's a small mercy that Phainon isn't incredibly prone to immediately jumping at the hiss, or even worse, elbowing the stranger in the gut. He does, however, stiffen like someone who's been caught doing something he shouldn't. Mydei gets a bit of a nervous chuckle, the Deliverer shaking his head and slowly turning to look at this newcomer with his apology.]
S-sorry, sorry, I'll be sure to keep it d—
[The sight of a blonde to red braid makes him freeze, voice suddenly gone, breath pulled from his lungs, as his eyes trail upwards to a face he never thought he'd see again in this lifetime.
(The smell of wheat in a summer field, ripe for harvest. The echo of gauntlet to sword, a clash of strength and skill, a match all in their own. Eyes like the holy candles in the halls of Okhema that would never go out, providing warmth and a sense of home to those who came and went. A smirk that would call him a thousand names and yet only say one word that encompassed all of them. A voice like thunder yet so easily capable of speaking with the quietest of words, if those were even needed at all. A longing, a desire that is soul-crushing, bone-deep in everything that defines Phainon, creates him, enables and devours him whole. His heart, his soul, his very self, standing side by side and yet having never seen each other until now...
Phainon knows this one, perhaps better than he even knows himself, some days. How else would he recognize his other half?)]
Mydei??
[His is the last face Phainon thought he'd ever see again. Hoped to, of course. Prayed for, more than anything else. But to actually see him here and now...]
[ he had retreated to this library to spare himself from a headache, to stop and breathe and think some thing through, yet not even an hour in and he finds himself standing face to face to his headache incarnate. the noisy man looks at him properly and Mydei feels his heart leap up into his throat, irritation overcome by a chaotic mix of recognition and fear.
his name from those lips, called in the heat of battle, in the midst of competition, in casual and friendly conversation. those eyes, strikingly blue, bearing the symbol he struggles place but knows it bears heavy mantle of hope. he knows this man. he knows this man. Mydei's mouth falls open with aborted words, only to clamp shut mere second later. his head pounds, chest aches, questions heavy and thick on his tongue that he struggles to even swallow.
why does he know this man? why does this man know him? ]
Who are you? [ do not forget your oath. ] Why do you know my name?
[He sees that— the moment of recognition, or maybe he thinks he does. Phainon would like to think he knows and understands the other man in more ways than he can think of, but... well, this is a new life. Things may have changed, like they have for Phainon. Who's to say every part of Mydei has stayed the same?
As for the questions... Who are you, Mydei asks, and for the briefest second Phainon's heart shatters into a thousand pieces— but only that, because this isn't the first time he remembers Mydei not knowing him. Knowing Khaslana.
So, he doesn't remember. That's... that's not fine, it hurts, but it's also something Phainon can work through on his own time. He'll just have to start at the beginning. Like before. Like every time the cycle was reset, and he would have to do everything all over again. It's... manageable. Doable. And hopefully, Mydei will remember, with time.
He gives him an awkward laugh, but does at least drop his voice lower. Library voice and all that.]
Oh, uh... I could've sworn you'd remember. I'm Phainon. Phainon Kamaris? [God, he's trying so hard to not just blurt out "I knew you in a past life and I loved you because you were my soulmate." HELP.] Anyway, good to see you again. Or, well- re-meet you, I guess?
[ he is hurt. the man is trying to school his expression but Mydei can recognize the subtle shifts that tells him the man before him expected something he did not get, and that hurt him. his pulse thunders ears, louder than it did when he met Gilgamesh, threatening to swallow him whole. there is no need for him to feel guilt for something he did not do and yet, and yet─ the look of hurt in those eyes is like thousands of knives piercing his chest.
he doesn't understand. ]
What is that supposed to mean? 'Could've sworn I'd remember'? I have barely been in this city for twenty four hours, how am I supposed to remember someone I have never met? [ the name rings familiar, painfully familiar, and for a moment he wishes he was back home. with his mother, with Phaistas, far from this library, this city, and these eyes that all but bore into his soul. ] Answer the question, Phainon. How is it that you know me?
[Some part of him, as foolish as he knows it is, hopes that Mydei will drop asking how he knows him and instead move onto something else. Like what Phainon is reading, or maybe Mydei would just walk away, it’s certainly still an option, right—?
…He does not, and Phainon sighs, the barest hint of frustration in the exhale. He really, really does not want to make this worse for either of them, or potentially force Mydei to have a sudden memory— but he refuses to lie to him when he knows, knows Mydei can read him like a book, even like this. So he won’t.]
I really doubt my answer is going to make any sense to you. [But he won’t keep it from him. Phainon shifts in his chair to fully look at Mydei at this, blue eyes unwavering even as the golden ones that look back feel like they could break him apart where he is.]
How familiar are you with the idea of past lives, Mydei?
[ he cannot even if he wanted too. the oath he took, the price he paid, burns in his veins like molten gold, reminding him he has long since forsook his ability to walk away. even then he wants to know why this man looks upon him with such familiarity, why he feels this pull in his chest─ it is not Enkidu's chains that bind Mydei to place, but his own.
he takes a step back, arms crossing across the dark shirt that hugs his chest barely hiding the brilliant red tattoos the decorate his skin, eyes narrowed in barely veiled suspicion. ]
I am familiar enough, whether I put stock in such nonsense is another thing entirely. [ a part of him wants it to be nonsense, wants the stories his mother used to tell him of lives unlived were nothing more than just stories. tales to inspire a curious youth who spent far too much time reading about the heroes of old. ] Are you to imply that we knew each other in a past life?
[Even the way Mydei looks at him brings both a sense of joy and a strike of agony in the same measure. Mydei is here in this life, alive, no longer tied to the notion of Strife or of the burdens of being a crown prince— but he does not remember Phainon. Mydei has no recollection of Castrum Kremnos, of the agony of losing his home, of the madness in the ravages of Nikador— but he does not remember Okhema, her people, the friends he and Phainon would fight to protect, and also die for. Over, and over, and over, and over-
(The stab is clean, decisive. Completely through his entire chest, sword impossibly long and yet again claiming golden ichor as it trails down the blade. Phainon is weightless in the air as he’s held there by this weapon, impaled by this monster who has been determined to stop the Flame Chase no matter the cost. Has killed his friends right in front of him, let the supposed savior of Amphoreus watch them die and be unable to save them. Weakly, a hand reaches downwards to the handle of the sword, his blood coming down faster to reach his fingers… and set the thing alight in a sudden blaze.
The Flame Chase is dead. The end of Amphoreus nears. But that never was the point, was it?
A lone number flashes in his mind while vessel and origin recombine. Phainon can’t understand what exactly this means, only knows that he tears himself apart from the inside out like a creature pulling itself out of its cage, its own skin, clamoring to the surface. He is molded beyond what he knows as the man named "Phainon," turned into the result of millions of eons of rage and hate against those who would doom his home, his people, and the entire cosmos. In this, he is now forged into something new.
No, not something new. Something that once was, and is now whole once again.
Golden eyes flicker open, the equivalent of a sun burning alive in his chest. He knows what he has to do.
33,550,335.)
Phainon jolts suddenly, surprise across his gestures, one hand coming to scrub his face in apparent disbelief. A memory? Even now? As it is, he barely registers Mydei’s question, only blinking for a long moment before squinting his eyes shut and shaking his head like some sort of dog getting himself dry.]
Yeah. That— basically, yes. We knew each other in our past lives.
[A life in Amphoreus, one that Phainon, as the Deliverer, would give anything to have back as each and every cycle came to its soul-crushing end. One he eventually refused to accept the supposed fate that awaited him and everyone he loved. One he would fight for until he could no longer remain as he was, but still insisted on continuing to pass the torch. And would continue into forever, if he had to.]
[ something in the way Phainon loses himself to his memories doesn't sit well with Mydei, guard lowering as the man obviously struggles with something. despite his trepidation, his suspicion, Mydei has always been the sort of person who helps those who need his help, someone who risks his life in order to ensure the health and safety of others. even now, suspicious and uncertain, he reaches out to rest a hand on the other's shoulder to shake him from whatever visions had stolen him away─ but the man breaks himself free, surprise clear on his expression.
truly, he had hoped his mother was not as intelligent and wise as she was. that her stories were mere stories rather than truths she skilfully wove anew. how much did she know? how much does she know even now?
he speaks true, mydeimos.
he squeezes Phainon's shoulder and exhales, his hand falling away to hang back at his side. ]
Come with me.
[ Mydei does not wait nor does he explain where exactly he is leading Phainon, he simply turns and walks away expecting the other man to follow. he walks out of the library, not once looking back, stopping only briefly in front a food truck in the parking lot to purchase a couple of cold drinks before moving a little further out. it only takes him a moment to locate a spot underneath a relatively large tree far from the eyeline of the general public, but once he does Mydei stops and holds the bottle of cold water out for Phainon to take. ]
My mother liked to weave stories of past lives when I was young. Apparently I was an unruly child who would not go to sleep until I heard at least one. She is the only reason I cannot dismiss your claim entirely.
[ that is a lie, but this Phainon does not need to know about his companion. ]
[There's hardly any time between Phainon returning back to reality and Mydei beckoning for him to follow— but somehow, it feels like it's hours in between. The hand on his shoulder, the squeeze, the sudden shift in how Mydei tells him to come with him...
A part of Phainon is almost too terrified to go, to see what awaits him. What if it's nothing like he hopes or remembers between them?
Still, staying here is pointless, especially since the other fully expects him to follow after him. The Deliverer has nothing actually keeping him at the library, so he does simply get up and follow right after Mydei, noting the way they go, and who they interact with. For the first time in all of this, he stays quiet, observant of their surroundings rather than immediately assume anything. It's only after Mydei hands him the drink and explains his change of heart that Phainon speaks, very clearly listening.]
So your mother used to tell you stories like this? About past lives? [He finds that incredible, actually— not that he can honestly relate all that much, but it's... comforting to hear, in a way. He's actually glad Mydei has those memories (because he barely remembers anything about his own mother), they've clearly defined who he is in this life as well.]
She did, she likes to say the stories of eld are there to aid the people of today.
[ there is more too it than that. a thread hidden by her gentle smile and soft words, weaving it's way through everything she says and does, winding up and around Mydei's throat. he knows her well, loves her dearly, but he knows she holds a knife behind her back as she arranges the dominos to her liking. it is exactly how he ended up in this city in the first place.
Mydei twists the top of his own bottle off to take a drink, glancing off into the distance briefly before returning his golden gaze to Phainon. ]
Her favourite stories usually involve a lone hero who bares the weight of a world upon his shoulders. The trials and tribulations that faced him. And those who accompanied him throughout them.
A lot of old stories serve as reminders, yeah- I can see that.
[Phainon watches Mydei staring out into the distance, both hands on his own bottle, unsure of what else to do except listen. Normally that's something easy in just relaxing with Mydei by his side— but since the man essentially does not remember him like Phainon does, it feels... awkward. Like he's finished a story too early or gotten to a good part and can't say anything to anyone else for a while. It's hard.
That doesn't stop him from nearly choking on his drink a moment after he hears Mydei talk about Gorgo. Especially about her telling the other about a "weight of the world" hero and his companions. He coughs, loudly, shaking his head and clearing his throat right after.
Just how much does his mother actually know?]
Weight of the world, huh? That's awfully specific.
[As if she knew Mydei had someone he'd loved and cherished in another life, and knew exactly the struggles they both had.]
[ he's spoken to Vergil about it and gotten the messiest of his feelings in... something like an order. a pattern, at least. he'd spoken to Sampo and apologized for sending him off with the adult equivalent of a packed lunch and a kiss on the forehead (the black credit card and a good squeeze of the ass), and now... it is not a reckoning, really.
just the next step.
something is inevitable, something is going to change, and Gilgamesh has never been one to shirk the coming of the beginning. or the end. or anything in between.
he's waiting in the VIP lounge, scrolling through things Yasuho has flagged for his attention just to keep his hands occupied. Sampo waits outside, keeping the car. warm. cool? he'd wanted to let them set the tone on their own, which is a terrible way to introduce two cats, but one digresses; Gilgamesh awaits his brother, eyes locked on his phone as he tries not to perk up at every announcement about the privately chartered flight that bears the boy-man-he's-a-man-he-pays-taxes across the ocean and plains and other sundry geography to Kaisou's sweet heart.
he is not anxious. he's not scared. he's. well. a king would walk on a minefield simply because he is the king. he's stepped into the unknown, and what will happen will happen as long as international customs isn't a massive bitch about it. ]
[ the flight had been long, exhausting, but overall comfortable as he was the only one on the plain and the flight attendant was very attentive to his needs. as comfortable as he was, he spent the entire flight tense and anxious, running through even possible scenario that could come of meeting his brother upon landing─ how the conversation will go, how he'll respond, what will undoubtedly follow.
it didn't make for a particularly restful flight.
he was glad when the plan had finally landed, glad he could stretch his legs properly now that he's on solid ground. he still had no idea how he was going to approach this meeting, how he's supposed to greet a brother he wasn't aware of having until only recently. does he just say hi? that's a stupid question of course he is going to greet the man. but what then? what does he say after that? what does he do after that?
Mydei is practically lost in his own thoughts when he walks out into the VIP lounge, unaware of his own surroundings as his phone goes off in his pocket stopping him in his tracks. he exhales, currently unaware of the man waiting for him, digging his phone from his pocket to check what it was; ah, a text from his mother making sure he arrived safely. ]
[Usually he'd avoid the cafe, mostly because of that picture going live on the app, but Phainon needs to see Mydei for this. There's a wriggling bundle in his hands and he needs to hand it off to the other man as quickly as possible.
Thankfully, it isn't too hard to find the other Chrysos Heir. Phainon ducks around a corner and only goes to Mydei when he's sure there aren't any eyes on them. Kind of... trips over his words a little, but he has a mission, after all.]
Right, so. I don't know if you've seen them yet, but there's chimeras here now. In pet stores and sometimes in the wild. I saw a few that looked familiar and I remember that chimeras were a favorite of yours back then, and your cafe setup had Pokemon so I figured you wouldn't mind a little one there too. He's got his papers ready for you whenever you want to fill them out for the little details, so.
[Was that all said in one breath? Close enough. Phainon pauses, but only for a moment.]
I'm— gonna go, before uh. Yeah. Don't want to cause any more problems. See you, Mydei!
[And being pushed into Mydei's arms is one familiar grey and white chimera by the name of Beagle Coconut. The chimera wiggles happily, paws going right to Mydei's chest, and it carries a small roll of papers on its back in a makeshift tie-on. Phainon is already on his way out, making sure he doesn't incite an incident from anyone nearby. Later!]
[ he holds the chimera gently, confusion plastered across his face. of all the things to happen today, Phainon showing up with a chimera and pushing it into his arms while practically talking faster than his mind can process wasn't on his list. the man isn't even waiting for him to react, he's already turning tail and running and something about that irritates Mydei immensely.
carefully he puts Beagle Coconut down before breaking out in a sprint to chase after the white haired idiot. ]
Phainon!
[ it's not difficult to catch up to him and grab him by the wrist, yanking him back toward Mydei in an effort to stop him from getting any further away. he growls in frustration, grip tight enough to bruise. ]
[This was supposed to be a clean break. A quick in and out— leave Mydei a gift as both an apology and a sort of "thinking of you because I miss you" idea, then getting out of there without any fuss.
...he should have known Mydei wouldn't let him get off that easy.
He hears Mydei before he sees him, but doesn't do any sort of resistance when he's grabbed. Instead he stops, turning back to him and pausing, a bit surprised.]
I'm... going home? So you don't get in trouble with your brother?
[As if that's the dumbest question he's been asked all day. He thought it was pretty easy to understand!!]
[ oh gods, oh sweet and merciful gods, he can't be that stupid can he? surely he can't be so stupid as to think he'd get Mydei in trouble for appearing, unannounced, at his almost complete cafe, right? besides what would it matter if he did? he is a man grown, he can spend his time with whoever he wishes. ]
You're an idiot, you know that?
[ Mydei doesn't let go of the other man's wrist, his grip instead grows tighter as he stands there. ]
What I do with my time and who I spend it with are no concern of Gil's.
[One would think Phainon knows well enough that others can make their own choices on who they can be with and where they spend their time— and he does. But after the mess of the party, he's a little bit of walking on eggshells if only because he half-expects the other shoe to drop.
Still, he can't help but pout a little at the other man tightening his grip around his wrist.]
Mydeiiii—
[There's a little whine at this, like a dog being caught trying to be good but also maybe sneak playing with his toy when he should be sleeping. Is he stupid? Sometimes. But in this case... well. He'd rather look like a fool than actually have one of his friends or those he loves be hurt.
(Titans knows how much he hurt them, in his past life.)]
Sampo said he'd be mad, I just don't want to make anything else difficult for you. You've got a cafe to run, you're getting used to living here, you're helping Cyrene with getting used to Kaisou too—
[Phainon is rambling, as he does when he's anxious or worried, but it's a familiar thing Mydei may recall, even if there's no memory attached. He just cares so much for everyone but himself.]
[ it rings familiar, frustratingly familiar, and he can feel half meant angry bubbling up his throat and in his veins. he expected some level of awkwardness what happened at the party, a few tense encounters here and there while they all figured out how to stand on their own two feet again but that isn't what he got. what he got was Phainon running from him, avoiding him, despite how painfully obvious it was he wanted to do anything else.
it's frustrating. it hurts. it makes it hard to focus of things that aren't Phainon. ]
I did not think you a coward, Deliverer. [ his voice holds more venom than he realizes, but still Mydei's grip tightens and forced the other man to remain here. ] Are you so scared of my brother's wrath that you flee from me? From whatever it is that sits between us?
[ because there is something there just out of reach and every time he takes hold of it there is an ache in his chest. the same sort of ache he felt that night at the party, watching as tears streamed down Phainon's cheeks. ]
I grow tired of this back and forth. I grow tired of thinking about you only for you to turn heel before I can even get close.
[Mydei's words, for the first time, seem to cause Phainon to still. Almost as if he's truly only noticing now what's happening between the two of them. How his own actions of wanting to keep the others in the dark are only straining their trust in him, rather than building it. That it will only damage any chance he may ever want of living a normal life with them in it.
.....how can he be so blind—]
I...
[It clicks. It not only clicks, but it hits him in the face like a truck, heart sinking as he realizes how much of a fool he really has been. It's... distressing, in some ways, but Phainon knows that there is one way to fix this— the right way. To give honesty, and own the faults and mistakes he's made up until now.
So he puts a hand to his face and pinches the bridge of his nose, drowning the old noise in his head about keeping them in the dark for their own safety, before he finally says something.]
....no, you're right, Mydei. I am being a coward. ["Whatever relationship we may have, it cannot be one forged on secrets."
Phainon shakes his head, exhales, lets go of the weight he created for himself in all his worries and actually lets himself breathe again.] It's like you've said- I've been an idiot this whole time. Somehow, the idea that I would lose you if I wasn't careful has stuck with me since we met in the library. And... I let that fear make my decisions for me, instead of trusting you. [He pauses, breathes out his nose, then speaks again.] I'm sorry.
[The smile he gives after is a soft one— small, but kind and willing to admit his faults. His eyes flick to Mydei's, and he huffs a little in amusement.]
...can we start over?
[Gently, he puts his free hand over Mydei's grip on his wrist, and offers a warm and familiar look, one that Mydei would know and recognize. The smile of the Deliverer he knows— the man he fell for in every cycle.]
Hi, I'm Phainon. Phainon Kamaris. I was born in Virginia, but— I think the village name of Aedes Elysiae may sound just as familiar to you, too.
[Every single one of his friends reached for him, for Khaslana, through those millions upon millions of cycles, always wanting to help him. It's the same here; and Phainon won't ever run again.]
[ his previous experience has him expecting the worst, bracing himself for Phainon to make some sort of excuse and flee from him again. so it is surprising when he doesn't, when Phainon looks at him with painful realization and instead tells him that he is right.
that surprise writes itself across Mydei's face, across his body language, the marks of frustration disappearing from him in a series of rapid blinks. the fire does not fade, however, but his grip loosens as Phainon talks admitting to his faults and foolish decisions that had lead them to this inevitable collision.
it feels unfair to take his frustrations out on the man now, it feels wrong to be angry at him, at that soft smile that keeps showing up in his dreams. in flashes of memories that are too short to make sense of but feel heavy and important. ]
HKS...
[ the word comes to him instinctually, demanding to be spoken despite Mydei barely understanding what it means and the weight it carries spoken to Phainon of all people. the hand on his, those bright blue eyes, all at once he feels his chest tighten with a feeling he almost fears to give a name. their beginning had been a poor one, had lead to this frustrating stand-still, and now he wants to begin again? ]
Phainon of Aedes Elysiae. [ then Mydei will give him want he wants because it is something he wants as well. he wants to latch onto the thread that binds them and pull it in, understand why he finds himself so tightly bound, why so much of his memories feature him, why─ Mydei exhales as he shifts closer, gently placing his free hand against the man's cheek. ] My name is Mydeimos. I was born in Sparta, Greece to Gorgo Alexandros but my heart whispers of the mighty Castrum Kremnos.
[This, for the first time, isn't something he fears talking about. He's comfortable with being honest, with telling the other exactly how things were. That to rely on him and trust him takes off such a weight that he didn't even realize he'd been wearing it in the first place. He'd laugh if the scenario were a bit less caused by his hand, but better late than never, right?
Of course, Mydei's instinctual scolding of HKS just makes Phainon grin wider, because it's familiar. It's a warm feeling, something he was berated with time and time again for being himself and the Kremnoan not knowing what to do with him half the time. It was a constant that he grew to enjoy the more he heard it, if only because it brought a sense of normalcy compared to the burdens the two of them bore upon their shoulders.
At the reintroduction though, Phainon blinks when Mydei puts his free hand on his face, feeling his heart practically leap into his throat at the touch. He swallows, finding a bit of laughter escape him, desperately wanting the other to realize just how intertwined they really are.
How much he still loves him, even after 33 million instances and a whole new life later.]
I hope my haunting hasn't been too awkward. [Dork. He does nod, though, his hand on Mydei's squeezing just a little.] We did spend a lot of time around each other, once you came to Okhema with your people. Even before you and I were on the Flame Chase, we interacted plenty. A lot of the time it was either in sparring or being somewhere to just talk with each other.
[Maybe this may help Mydei start to get an idea of how things were, once upon a time.]
[ she'll find the cafe closed upon her arrival and, just as Mydei claimed, the door unlocked for her to come inside. almost in preparation for the worst Mydei made a point to put away the critters before her arrival, so once she steps inside she is only greeted by one of the chimeras, Beagle Coconut, who paces around her worriedly.
it may have fed off Mydei's anxiety judging by the way he comes marching out the kitchen mere second later. ]
[ Once she stumbles through the door of the cafe and is met with the worried little chimera--who, she thinks, looks familiar, though she can't place it in the moment--she allows herself to relax and sinks into the nearest available seat. Which... is, like, any of them, since apparently all of the animals are put away. He didn't have to go that far for this...
The sight that Mydei is greeted with as he emerges from the kitchen is simple--Cyrene sitting in a chair, one arm pulled close to herself and her heels tucked up under the edge of the chair. Her knees are scraped, and the sleeve of her jacket on that arm is ripped in a few places, the remaining fabric soaked through with bright gold. ]
Funny that you assumed right away that I had gotten hurt. I never said anything of the sort. [ She can't deny it now, though. Not with the evidence plain as day in front of them. ]
[ he's at her side almost immediately, lowering himself down to her level and looking over the injury. the golden blood doesn't seem to bother him, the fact she is bleeding alone is what appears to bother him. gently, Mydei takes her arm in his grip and tilts his head, golden eyes scanning over the remains of a torn jacket with a frown. ]
Can you take your arm out of the jacket? I can get you a new one but I'd prefer not to tear it off your arm.
[ She does her best not to flinch as he takes hold of her arm, but... the cuts do sting, there's no ignoring that. ]
I can... I can. [ mumbling to herself. ] I-I can't believe I ruined this one, I stole it from Hephaestion ages ago...
[ Slowly, she works her arm out of the jacket, though she turns her head away at the sight of all that blood. It reminds her too much of the memories that have been resurfacing, so many of them stained this same gold. ] I-- it's not just... because I got hurt, you know... I can look after myself. But... [ But...? ]
[It takes him a moment to respond, but Mydei will finally get a new message— and it's an image!!
Of a rather familiar dromas staring into the camera from above as Phainon tries to move it before Kokopo steps on his phone. There's feathers on his head from his run-ins with said geese from previous messages.]
Kokopo's chasing the geese. And nearly ran me over.
[PLEASE COME PICK UP YOUR TEMPERAMENTAL DROMAS, MYDEIMOS.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
action; you know why I’m here
So, naturally, extrovert that he is, exploration becomes his main goal now in Kaisou. As it stands, Phainon visits the buildings that catch his interest first- the Crystal Tower, Blue Fish Park, Kaisou’s mall- all of which he finds something to love and easily enjoy.
Today’s agenda is no different- he’s in the library and trying to find books on both history and potentially appraisal. There’s plenty he has to catch up on over the past four years, and simply coasting by isn’t enough. Sitting at one of the tables in the main room at least allows him to spread his work. One hand is in a book about Athenian Greek pottery, the other in a history textbook over recent historical events in the past decade. Split between these two is a notebook with scrawled ramblings that seem to be turning more and more into illegible chicken scratch as Phainon’s eyes keep crossing in trying to read what he can. He looks like an exhausted college student who’s caught between studying for two tests, even if that’s not even close to the truth.
After another moment, he pulls back, both hands withdrawing and scrubbing his face instead.]
If I read anything else about digital currency or "metaphorical gazes" I think my brain is going to explode.
[A very clear whine, but he doesn’t raise his voice too much. It is the library, after all, and the last thing he needs is to be scolded for speaking loudly.]
no subject
but then there was meeting his half-brother and all that entailed, thinking on it now made his head throb and his chest constrict. better not to think on it for loo long, else his sleeping companion decides to wake and urge Mydei to suplex him again. all of it is too new, too fragile, and as such must be handled with the utmost care. which is, in part, exactly why he finds himself drawn to the library─ the perfect place to convalesce and consider what his next moves will be.
if only his thirst for knowledge did not so quickly distract him from his original goal.
he had been thumbing through a book when the voice hits his ears, sharp and familiar, making him lose his place in the epic. ordinarily Mydei would have grumbled to himself and moved elsewhere, continuing his reading a quieter corner of the library but today? something about the voice grates him, forcing his feet to stride right over to the man's table. one hand bracing against the surface as Mydei bodily leans down to hiss in the man's ear. ]
You're too loud. This is a library.
no subject
S-sorry, sorry, I'll be sure to keep it d—
[The sight of a blonde to red braid makes him freeze, voice suddenly gone, breath pulled from his lungs, as his eyes trail upwards to a face he never thought he'd see again in this lifetime.
(The smell of wheat in a summer field, ripe for harvest. The echo of gauntlet to sword, a clash of strength and skill, a match all in their own. Eyes like the holy candles in the halls of Okhema that would never go out, providing warmth and a sense of home to those who came and went. A smirk that would call him a thousand names and yet only say one word that encompassed all of them. A voice like thunder yet so easily capable of speaking with the quietest of words, if those were even needed at all. A longing, a desire that is soul-crushing, bone-deep in everything that defines Phainon, creates him, enables and devours him whole. His heart, his soul, his very self, standing side by side and yet having never seen each other until now...
Phainon knows this one, perhaps better than he even knows himself, some days. How else would he recognize his other half?)]
Mydei??
[His is the last face Phainon thought he'd ever see again. Hoped to, of course. Prayed for, more than anything else. But to actually see him here and now...]
no subject
his name from those lips, called in the heat of battle, in the midst of competition, in casual and friendly conversation. those eyes, strikingly blue, bearing the symbol he struggles place but knows it bears heavy mantle of hope. he knows this man. he knows this man. Mydei's mouth falls open with aborted words, only to clamp shut mere second later. his head pounds, chest aches, questions heavy and thick on his tongue that he struggles to even swallow.
why does he know this man? why does this man know him? ]
Who are you? [ do not forget your oath. ] Why do you know my name?
no subject
As for the questions... Who are you, Mydei asks, and for the briefest second Phainon's heart shatters into a thousand pieces— but only that, because this isn't the first time he remembers Mydei not knowing him. Knowing Khaslana.
So, he doesn't remember. That's... that's not fine, it hurts, but it's also something Phainon can work through on his own time. He'll just have to start at the beginning. Like before. Like every time the cycle was reset, and he would have to do everything all over again. It's... manageable. Doable. And hopefully, Mydei will remember, with time.
He gives him an awkward laugh, but does at least drop his voice lower. Library voice and all that.]
Oh, uh... I could've sworn you'd remember. I'm Phainon. Phainon Kamaris? [God, he's trying so hard to not just blurt out "I knew you in a past life and I loved you because you were my soulmate." HELP.] Anyway, good to see you again. Or, well- re-meet you, I guess?
no subject
he doesn't understand. ]
What is that supposed to mean? 'Could've sworn I'd remember'? I have barely been in this city for twenty four hours, how am I supposed to remember someone I have never met? [ the name rings familiar, painfully familiar, and for a moment he wishes he was back home. with his mother, with Phaistas, far from this library, this city, and these eyes that all but bore into his soul. ] Answer the question, Phainon. How is it that you know me?
no subject
…He does not, and Phainon sighs, the barest hint of frustration in the exhale. He really, really does not want to make this worse for either of them, or potentially force Mydei to have a sudden memory— but he refuses to lie to him when he knows, knows Mydei can read him like a book, even like this. So he won’t.]
I really doubt my answer is going to make any sense to you. [But he won’t keep it from him. Phainon shifts in his chair to fully look at Mydei at this, blue eyes unwavering even as the golden ones that look back feel like they could break him apart where he is.]
How familiar are you with the idea of past lives, Mydei?
no subject
he takes a step back, arms crossing across the dark shirt that hugs his chest barely hiding the brilliant red tattoos the decorate his skin, eyes narrowed in barely veiled suspicion. ]
I am familiar enough, whether I put stock in such nonsense is another thing entirely. [ a part of him wants it to be nonsense, wants the stories his mother used to tell him of lives unlived were nothing more than just stories. tales to inspire a curious youth who spent far too much time reading about the heroes of old. ] Are you to imply that we knew each other in a past life?
no subject
(The stab is clean, decisive. Completely through his entire chest, sword impossibly long and yet again claiming golden ichor as it trails down the blade. Phainon is weightless in the air as he’s held there by this weapon, impaled by this monster who has been determined to stop the Flame Chase no matter the cost. Has killed his friends right in front of him, let the supposed savior of Amphoreus watch them die and be unable to save them. Weakly, a hand reaches downwards to the handle of the sword, his blood coming down faster to reach his fingers… and set the thing alight in a sudden blaze.
The Flame Chase is dead. The end of Amphoreus nears. But that never was the point, was it?
A lone number flashes in his mind while vessel and origin recombine. Phainon can’t understand what exactly this means, only knows that he tears himself apart from the inside out like a creature pulling itself out of its cage, its own skin, clamoring to the surface. He is molded beyond what he knows as the man named "Phainon," turned into the result of millions of eons of rage and hate against those who would doom his home, his people, and the entire cosmos. In this, he is now forged into something new.
No, not something new. Something that once was, and is now whole once again.
Golden eyes flicker open, the equivalent of a sun burning alive in his chest. He knows what he has to do.
33,550,335.)
Phainon jolts suddenly, surprise across his gestures, one hand coming to scrub his face in apparent disbelief. A memory? Even now? As it is, he barely registers Mydei’s question, only blinking for a long moment before squinting his eyes shut and shaking his head like some sort of dog getting himself dry.]
Yeah. That— basically, yes. We knew each other in our past lives.
[A life in Amphoreus, one that Phainon, as the Deliverer, would give anything to have back as each and every cycle came to its soul-crushing end. One he eventually refused to accept the supposed fate that awaited him and everyone he loved. One he would fight for until he could no longer remain as he was, but still insisted on continuing to pass the torch. And would continue into forever, if he had to.]
no subject
truly, he had hoped his mother was not as intelligent and wise as she was. that her stories were mere stories rather than truths she skilfully wove anew. how much did she know? how much does she know even now?
he speaks true, mydeimos.
he squeezes Phainon's shoulder and exhales, his hand falling away to hang back at his side. ]
Come with me.
[ Mydei does not wait nor does he explain where exactly he is leading Phainon, he simply turns and walks away expecting the other man to follow. he walks out of the library, not once looking back, stopping only briefly in front a food truck in the parking lot to purchase a couple of cold drinks before moving a little further out. it only takes him a moment to locate a spot underneath a relatively large tree far from the eyeline of the general public, but once he does Mydei stops and holds the bottle of cold water out for Phainon to take. ]
My mother liked to weave stories of past lives when I was young. Apparently I was an unruly child who would not go to sleep until I heard at least one. She is the only reason I cannot dismiss your claim entirely.
[ that is a lie, but this Phainon does not need to know about his companion. ]
no subject
A part of Phainon is almost too terrified to go, to see what awaits him. What if it's nothing like he hopes or remembers between them?
Still, staying here is pointless, especially since the other fully expects him to follow after him. The Deliverer has nothing actually keeping him at the library, so he does simply get up and follow right after Mydei, noting the way they go, and who they interact with. For the first time in all of this, he stays quiet, observant of their surroundings rather than immediately assume anything. It's only after Mydei hands him the drink and explains his change of heart that Phainon speaks, very clearly listening.]
So your mother used to tell you stories like this? About past lives? [He finds that incredible, actually— not that he can honestly relate all that much, but it's... comforting to hear, in a way. He's actually glad Mydei has those memories (because he barely remembers anything about his own mother), they've clearly defined who he is in this life as well.]
no subject
[ there is more too it than that. a thread hidden by her gentle smile and soft words, weaving it's way through everything she says and does, winding up and around Mydei's throat. he knows her well, loves her dearly, but he knows she holds a knife behind her back as she arranges the dominos to her liking. it is exactly how he ended up in this city in the first place.
Mydei twists the top of his own bottle off to take a drink, glancing off into the distance briefly before returning his golden gaze to Phainon. ]
Her favourite stories usually involve a lone hero who bares the weight of a world upon his shoulders. The trials and tribulations that faced him. And those who accompanied him throughout them.
no subject
[Phainon watches Mydei staring out into the distance, both hands on his own bottle, unsure of what else to do except listen. Normally that's something easy in just relaxing with Mydei by his side— but since the man essentially does not remember him like Phainon does, it feels... awkward. Like he's finished a story too early or gotten to a good part and can't say anything to anyone else for a while. It's hard.
That doesn't stop him from nearly choking on his drink a moment after he hears Mydei talk about Gorgo. Especially about her telling the other about a "weight of the world" hero and his companions. He coughs, loudly, shaking his head and clearing his throat right after.
Just how much does his mother actually know?]
Weight of the world, huh? That's awfully specific.
[As if she knew Mydei had someone he'd loved and cherished in another life, and knew exactly the struggles they both had.]
action; the arrival
just the next step.
something is inevitable, something is going to change, and Gilgamesh has never been one to shirk the coming of the beginning. or the end. or anything in between.
he's waiting in the VIP lounge, scrolling through things Yasuho has flagged for his attention just to keep his hands occupied. Sampo waits outside, keeping the car. warm. cool? he'd wanted to let them set the tone on their own, which is a terrible way to introduce two cats, but one digresses; Gilgamesh awaits his brother, eyes locked on his phone as he tries not to perk up at every announcement about the privately chartered flight that bears the boy-man-he's-a-man-he-pays-taxes across the ocean and plains and other sundry geography to Kaisou's sweet heart.
he is not anxious. he's not scared. he's.
well.
a king would walk on a minefield simply because he is the king. he's stepped into the unknown, and what will happen will happen as long as international customs isn't a massive bitch about it. ]
no subject
it didn't make for a particularly restful flight.
he was glad when the plan had finally landed, glad he could stretch his legs properly now that he's on solid ground. he still had no idea how he was going to approach this meeting, how he's supposed to greet a brother he wasn't aware of having until only recently. does he just say hi? that's a stupid question of course he is going to greet the man. but what then? what does he say after that? what does he do after that?
Mydei is practically lost in his own thoughts when he walks out into the VIP lounge, unaware of his own surroundings as his phone goes off in his pocket stopping him in his tracks. he exhales, currently unaware of the man waiting for him, digging his phone from his pocket to check what it was; ah, a text from his mother making sure he arrived safely. ]
action, hi c:
Thankfully, it isn't too hard to find the other Chrysos Heir. Phainon ducks around a corner and only goes to Mydei when he's sure there aren't any eyes on them. Kind of... trips over his words a little, but he has a mission, after all.]
Right, so. I don't know if you've seen them yet, but there's chimeras here now. In pet stores and sometimes in the wild. I saw a few that looked familiar and I remember that chimeras were a favorite of yours back then, and your cafe setup had Pokemon so I figured you wouldn't mind a little one there too. He's got his papers ready for you whenever you want to fill them out for the little details, so.
[Was that all said in one breath? Close enough. Phainon pauses, but only for a moment.]
I'm— gonna go, before uh. Yeah. Don't want to cause any more problems. See you, Mydei!
[And being pushed into Mydei's arms is one familiar grey and white chimera by the name of Beagle Coconut. The chimera wiggles happily, paws going right to Mydei's chest, and it carries a small roll of papers on its back in a makeshift tie-on. Phainon is already on his way out, making sure he doesn't incite an incident from anyone nearby. Later!]
no subject
[ he holds the chimera gently, confusion plastered across his face. of all the things to happen today, Phainon showing up with a chimera and pushing it into his arms while practically talking faster than his mind can process wasn't on his list. the man isn't even waiting for him to react, he's already turning tail and running and something about that irritates Mydei immensely.
carefully he puts Beagle Coconut down before breaking out in a sprint to chase after the white haired idiot. ]
Phainon!
[ it's not difficult to catch up to him and grab him by the wrist, yanking him back toward Mydei in an effort to stop him from getting any further away. he growls in frustration, grip tight enough to bruise. ]
Where do you think you're going?
no subject
...he should have known Mydei wouldn't let him get off that easy.
He hears Mydei before he sees him, but doesn't do any sort of resistance when he's grabbed. Instead he stops, turning back to him and pausing, a bit surprised.]
I'm... going home? So you don't get in trouble with your brother?
[As if that's the dumbest question he's been asked all day. He thought it was pretty easy to understand!!]
no subject
[ oh gods, oh sweet and merciful gods, he can't be that stupid can he? surely he can't be so stupid as to think he'd get Mydei in trouble for appearing, unannounced, at his almost complete cafe, right? besides what would it matter if he did? he is a man grown, he can spend his time with whoever he wishes. ]
You're an idiot, you know that?
[ Mydei doesn't let go of the other man's wrist, his grip instead grows tighter as he stands there. ]
What I do with my time and who I spend it with are no concern of Gil's.
no subject
Still, he can't help but pout a little at the other man tightening his grip around his wrist.]
Mydeiiii—
[There's a little whine at this, like a dog being caught trying to be good but also maybe sneak playing with his toy when he should be sleeping. Is he stupid? Sometimes. But in this case... well. He'd rather look like a fool than actually have one of his friends or those he loves be hurt.
(Titans knows how much he hurt them, in his past life.)]
Sampo said he'd be mad, I just don't want to make anything else difficult for you. You've got a cafe to run, you're getting used to living here, you're helping Cyrene with getting used to Kaisou too—
[Phainon is rambling, as he does when he's anxious or worried, but it's a familiar thing Mydei may recall, even if there's no memory attached. He just cares so much for everyone but himself.]
no subject
it's frustrating. it hurts. it makes it hard to focus of things that aren't Phainon. ]
I did not think you a coward, Deliverer. [ his voice holds more venom than he realizes, but still Mydei's grip tightens and forced the other man to remain here. ] Are you so scared of my brother's wrath that you flee from me? From whatever it is that sits between us?
[ because there is something there just out of reach and every time he takes hold of it there is an ache in his chest. the same sort of ache he felt that night at the party, watching as tears streamed down Phainon's cheeks. ]
I grow tired of this back and forth. I grow tired of thinking about you only for you to turn heel before I can even get close.
no subject
.....how can he be so blind—]
I...
[It clicks. It not only clicks, but it hits him in the face like a truck, heart sinking as he realizes how much of a fool he really has been. It's... distressing, in some ways, but Phainon knows that there is one way to fix this— the right way. To give honesty, and own the faults and mistakes he's made up until now.
So he puts a hand to his face and pinches the bridge of his nose, drowning the old noise in his head about keeping them in the dark for their own safety, before he finally says something.]
....no, you're right, Mydei. I am being a coward. ["Whatever relationship we may have, it cannot be one forged on secrets."
Phainon shakes his head, exhales, lets go of the weight he created for himself in all his worries and actually lets himself breathe again.] It's like you've said- I've been an idiot this whole time. Somehow, the idea that I would lose you if I wasn't careful has stuck with me since we met in the library. And... I let that fear make my decisions for me, instead of trusting you. [He pauses, breathes out his nose, then speaks again.] I'm sorry.
[The smile he gives after is a soft one— small, but kind and willing to admit his faults. His eyes flick to Mydei's, and he huffs a little in amusement.]
...can we start over?
[Gently, he puts his free hand over Mydei's grip on his wrist, and offers a warm and familiar look, one that Mydei would know and recognize. The smile of the Deliverer he knows— the man he fell for in every cycle.]
Hi, I'm Phainon. Phainon Kamaris. I was born in Virginia, but— I think the village name of Aedes Elysiae may sound just as familiar to you, too.
[Every single one of his friends reached for him, for Khaslana, through those millions upon millions of cycles, always wanting to help him. It's the same here; and Phainon won't ever run again.]
no subject
that surprise writes itself across Mydei's face, across his body language, the marks of frustration disappearing from him in a series of rapid blinks. the fire does not fade, however, but his grip loosens as Phainon talks admitting to his faults and foolish decisions that had lead them to this inevitable collision.
it feels unfair to take his frustrations out on the man now, it feels wrong to be angry at him, at that soft smile that keeps showing up in his dreams. in flashes of memories that are too short to make sense of but feel heavy and important. ]
HKS...
[ the word comes to him instinctually, demanding to be spoken despite Mydei barely understanding what it means and the weight it carries spoken to Phainon of all people. the hand on his, those bright blue eyes, all at once he feels his chest tighten with a feeling he almost fears to give a name. their beginning had been a poor one, had lead to this frustrating stand-still, and now he wants to begin again? ]
Phainon of Aedes Elysiae. [ then Mydei will give him want he wants because it is something he wants as well. he wants to latch onto the thread that binds them and pull it in, understand why he finds himself so tightly bound, why so much of his memories feature him, why─ Mydei exhales as he shifts closer, gently placing his free hand against the man's cheek. ] My name is Mydeimos. I was born in Sparta, Greece to Gorgo Alexandros but my heart whispers of the mighty Castrum Kremnos.
And you haunt my every step.
no subject
Of course, Mydei's instinctual scolding of HKS just makes Phainon grin wider, because it's familiar. It's a warm feeling, something he was berated with time and time again for being himself and the Kremnoan not knowing what to do with him half the time. It was a constant that he grew to enjoy the more he heard it, if only because it brought a sense of normalcy compared to the burdens the two of them bore upon their shoulders.
At the reintroduction though, Phainon blinks when Mydei puts his free hand on his face, feeling his heart practically leap into his throat at the touch. He swallows, finding a bit of laughter escape him, desperately wanting the other to realize just how intertwined they really are.
How much he still loves him, even after 33 million instances and a whole new life later.]
I hope my haunting hasn't been too awkward. [Dork. He does nod, though, his hand on Mydei's squeezing just a little.] We did spend a lot of time around each other, once you came to Okhema with your people. Even before you and I were on the Flame Chase, we interacted plenty. A lot of the time it was either in sparring or being somewhere to just talk with each other.
[Maybe this may help Mydei start to get an idea of how things were, once upon a time.]
text; un: doremimem
Quick questionnn
Wher ear e you rigth now
No rushif oyure a twork or something!!!
It's nto urgent
OK it might be a littl ebit urgent :(
[ Cyrene is not one known for writing like she's not looking at the screen. It is clear that she is writing far too quickly, far too distracted. ]
no subject
Cyrene? What's going on? Are you alright?
no subject
I need to find oyu please
Freakign out a ltilt bit
θέλω βοήθεια(I need help/I want help)
no subject
Come to the cafe, the closed sign is up but the door is open.
no subject
I meese dup my hoodie :(
[ Is that. Really the thing she should be worrying about right now. ]
no subject
it may have fed off Mydei's anxiety judging by the way he comes marching out the kitchen mere second later. ]
Where are you hurt?
no subject
The sight that Mydei is greeted with as he emerges from the kitchen is simple--Cyrene sitting in a chair, one arm pulled close to herself and her heels tucked up under the edge of the chair. Her knees are scraped, and the sleeve of her jacket on that arm is ripped in a few places, the remaining fabric soaked through with bright gold. ]
Funny that you assumed right away that I had gotten hurt. I never said anything of the sort. [ She can't deny it now, though. Not with the evidence plain as day in front of them. ]
no subject
[ he's at her side almost immediately, lowering himself down to her level and looking over the injury. the golden blood doesn't seem to bother him, the fact she is bleeding alone is what appears to bother him. gently, Mydei takes her arm in his grip and tilts his head, golden eyes scanning over the remains of a torn jacket with a frown. ]
Can you take your arm out of the jacket? I can get you a new one but I'd prefer not to tear it off your arm.
no subject
I can... I can. [ mumbling to herself. ] I-I can't believe I ruined this one, I stole it from Hephaestion ages ago...
[ Slowly, she works her arm out of the jacket, though she turns her head away at the sight of all that blood. It reminds her too much of the memories that have been resurfacing, so many of them stained this same gold. ] I-- it's not just... because I got hurt, you know... I can look after myself. But... [ But...? ]
text; un: snowy
KOKOPO
GEESE
HERJGJRWIHSXJSBSA74),8:8,!
[As he promptly nearly gets run over by Kokopo in his running around the duck pond.]
no subject
Kokopo? geese? he frowns at the messages that immediately becomes garbled nonsense. ]
Make sense, Deliverer.
no subject
Of a rather familiar dromas staring into the camera from above as Phainon tries to move it before Kokopo steps on his phone. There's feathers on his head from his run-ins with said geese from previous messages.]
Kokopo's chasing the geese. And nearly ran me over.
[PLEASE COME PICK UP YOUR TEMPERAMENTAL DROMAS, MYDEIMOS.]
During Barcelona - text