Hansa Cervantes (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
robopriest) wrote2025-11-03 09:02 pm
robopriest) wrote2025-11-03 09:02 pm
PC WITH ANAXAGORAS
i love how this meme doesn't make sense but its funny to Me
i love how this meme doesn't make sense but its funny to Me
i love how this meme doesn't make sense but its funny to Me
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[Anaxagoras sits next to him. The night is quiet. As if nothing happened. As if they can talk, and not have to worry about a single thing.]
[He glances over.]
I remember you did. What about him?
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[ ...It'd almost be as if nothing had happened, right? Anaxagoras supposes that he'd like a small reprieve for the both of them, because he can't really ignore what happened before for long, either.
But, on a night like this, it can feel possible.
So, when the other man glances over, so does he too in return, tilting his head slightly, before turning his gaze back at the sky once more. ]
He was a member of the Venerationists - those who were essentially sticklers for tradition. Its Sage for awhile, even. But, he did diverge in thought - in terms of strictness in some points. Although he cautioned myself on various actions I'd taken, as he should, he wasn't ready to have myself burned at the stake or hung for difference of opinion.
Empedocles was his name. And more importantly...often I remember gazing up at the projection he had, which gave a nice view of the stars - because we had a false sky, you see. Not that he was particularly happy I said it, though agreed nonetheless.
Even after he passed, gazing at some kind of starry sky had become out of habit, or a favorite past time.
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[Like reflections across broken glass. Similar and not quite. Familiar echoes.]
[He listens as the man talks. A false sky...he wonders what he would think, if he was told that about his world. Disbelief, most likely. Because it would imply more than that is fake.]
[Hansa hums.]
...Do you imagine he watches along with you, then? I suppose he'd have a lot to say about this place.
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[ Anaxagoras says somewhere between dryly and not - it should be obvious. Similarities, mixed with differences and all. They reflect each other in those echoes and when the light casts itself upon that mirror, that which separates who they are stand out plain as day.
Even if one is a (demi-god) Blasphemer, and one, a man of (steel) faith.
As it is, he takes the moment to ponder his question. Right away he knows the answer, expression turning soft and wistful. Nostalgic...he's happy the other man asked. ]
As for your question, I sometimes dream that he does rather than imagine. My mind rejects the imagery of his presence, but my subconscious embraces it.
When you talk on what he might have to say, it brings to mind what he once spoke to me in reproach, but also wisdom:
"Often, people know more than they let on. They simply choose to feign ignorance because they have no other choice."
It may have been the first word he would speak about this hell, though different. Instead of 'feign ignorance', he may have also added 'or to become entrapped in ignorance' as he instead would turn his attention towards the people. Perhaps next he might speak of the soul. How the potential corruption that tries to writhe inside of us is present in every breath. Unavoidable, but that we still remain ourselves - true and whole.
That our belief will color our perception. Our choices will alter what we see and make of this place, with our own eyes, and our own hands.
[ Inevitably, they still ended up talking about their surroundings. But it is like them to circle around to what matters. ]
...I'm curious what your own foster father would have had to say in turn, about this place.
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[It's nice to see the man smile, he thinks. He wants to see more of that. But in this place, that's harder to get. There's not a lot to smile about in this situation/]
He really does sound like he was a really intelligent man. [The corruption inside of them, and yet...] In the end, I guess its like that saying. "The world is what you make of it". But I think that's why we have to rely on each other. Looking at the world through your eyes alone makes you blind.
[The question on his father makes him scoff, grinning as he glances back up at the sky, again.]
Father Cervantes would chew my ear off for fooling around, no doubt. And the whole time, he wouldn't be meeting my eye, because he doesn't like looking people in the eye at all. He's a little funny like that.
[...He does miss him, being here.]
But about this place? He'd see it as one of God's challenges. He'd probably push everyone to focus as much as they could, and win against this grand evil. He'd never want to see anyone falling behind.
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Such to the point he can sit here, listen to Hansa remark on the man who watched over him, saying good things. His expression softens, still caught up in reminisce, though glad to hear Hansa say such things - not only about him, but that they need to rely on one another. ]
It certainly does.
[ The words are muttered gently as he instead listens to Hansa speak about 'Father Cervantes'. Seeing the grin on his face, his gaze lingers. He knows it won't be likely to always remain, but he's glad even he can look like that - can reminisce a bit too. ]
Your foster father sounds like a unique, but interesting man. Though, I wouldn't think he'd be wrong to chew you out here or there. You do need someone to do that from time to time.
[ Throwing Hansa a little amused smile now. ]
However, I also believe he'd be right to have everyone focus - to be driven on succeeding against the malevolent forces that are doing whatever it can to not only be an incredible nuisance, but a wretched storm against who we are. And, ensuring no one is ensnared within it is important as well. The more dangerous the situation is, the more easier it is for someone to stumble.
And even if they must stand on their own, they can be guided on how in the first place...it's no wonder you grew up respecting such a man.
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[He shifts over, bumping his shoulder into the other man's - I'm here. Don't worry.]
[Anaxagoras saying such nice profound things about a man he hasn't even met is a mark of how sincere he is, he thinks. Anaxagoras is a good man.]
[The world needs more good men.]
He definitely set me right, though. As Emphedocles did for you. How wonderful it is. To have a guiding star.
[He should be looking at the sky. He looks at Anaxagoras instead.]
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Do you now? I am such a person? Others might feel dread to hear you say that. But, for once, I'll be a braggert - I believe that I would be very qualified for it. A Professor who is used to dealing with you would naturally be so.
And a Priest in turn might be able to keep such a troublesome blasphemer from crossing the line.
[ His voice and tone is snarky, yet somehow warm - the feeling that has settled into him. Even with the comment about keeping him in line. If a complete stranger had said that to him, he'd be bristling, reminded of those who would rather have him condemned to obscure the truth. But, they are strangers no longer, and he knows Hansa means well. That he is not such a twisted person.
Feeling the bump against the shoulder is affirmation he isn't imagining things. He's like an anchor, and he turns to give him with a soft edge to one eye, and then...after a moment's hesitation, he reaches out slowly. A light touch against one of Hansa's arms with a palm, before letting pulling it back. ]
Yes. We all need someone like that in our lives. I believe I even forgot what that was like.
However, I wonder if it is a coincidence if I am reminded of what I may need. What do you think?
[ When I'm with you, almost comes out. But as Anaxagoras meets Hansa's gaze that stares into all that he is...he wonders if it is necessary to say it at all. As even the stars hang above them, it feels like the brightest is shining before him. ]
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[He should joke. He should laugh. The man is touching him, and its both something anchoring and chaotic at the same time.]
[What's wrong with him?]
I... [He's staring. Hansa clears his throat, trying to save face - is there any face to save?] Well. I don't know if I...always believe in coincidence.
[You're leading him on, said Childermass. He had laughed, because it was ridiculous! It was so ridiculous. Was it?]
[Damn, why can't he find the words?]
You know. God has plans. And things like that.
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It's still nerve-wracking, but he doesn't feel such a primal fear at looking at it in the face anymore. ]
I should have known that you would say something like that.
[ His tone is fond, amused, and still with its usual spark combined all in one. Hansa's nervousness...it is a bit palpable, but he finds it endearing. All he sees right now of Hansa happens to be, and it feels like even any of his nerves are nonexistent. ]
...Though, in this case, it is the close to the principle of "everything happens for a reason". Interactions that are simply meant to be, or because matters have lead up to that point.
Whether seen as such from your position of faith, or through the lens of my own.
Who am I, therefore, to argue?
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[Even a man of hard logic and science can believe in such things. There's something deeper here. Perhaps its touching on something more abstract, something unseen. Like the soul. Like faith. Like-]
Anaxagoras.
[Everything happens for a reason. This meeting, from different worlds, that must be for a reason. The way he feels must be for a reason.]
[...He shouldn't be thinking of all these reasons. It's better to be sincere, right now, and that's the best he can be.]
[His smile opens up. The confusion and nervousness and worry can come later. He can think properly later. But he just needs to say:]
I'm so happy I met you.
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Especially when he gazes upon the smile that seems to only expand. He wants to see again that openness, and he imagines committing to memory that expression.
Yes, in his vision, that brightness shimmers - and he can see himself reaching for it in his mind's eye.
It illuminates even that part of him he has acknowledged, yet neglected - all that simultaneously coexists with every part of him. His happiness, his fears, his reason, his everything. ]
And I you, Hansa.
[ Anaxagoras doesn't remember how long they have been staring at one another, either - yet, saying this doesn't feel unusual, feels just right. ]
...I won't forget this - being able to speak like this, being able to spend time together, even now. Nor will I ever take it for granted.
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[Like this is final, the last meeting before they dive over the cliff. It makes him nervous, but in a different way this time. Anaxagoras told him that at home, there was a finality waiting for him.]
[If they get out of here, then this will be the last time he will see the man.]
[His eyes slide away for a moment, the expression on his face more pensive.]
I don't want to think about that.
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There are a thousand thoughts running through his head, even as he is ever more certain of the emotion that rests inside of him whenever he gazes upon him.
But, with Hansa speaking the words he does, he sees reality again. Even if he has no illusions that he truly felt what he did, he really can't forget what awaits himself, and then there is issue of who he is. He wonders, in retrospect, if he should have been a bit more reserved.
Regardless, he stares at him and asks: ]
...Is that how you saw it?
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[It's a direct question. He feels like what he was saying to prompt it was said lightly before - because the words feel so heavy, in all the right and wrong ways. A spark of connection, and then the wave of reality that feels like a storm cloud over their heads. And he, himself, feeling like he's caught between two worlds. His responsibility and faith on one hand. His recklessness and pure humanity on the other.]
[And like a child, he's drawing his knees up to himself, nestling his face a little against them with his heart beating fretfully in his chest. Fighting vampires is easier than this.]
[The urge to push him away. The urge to hold him close.]
[His voice is quiet.]
...As a priest, we cannot have relationships. We are devoted to the Lord. So really, I joke around, but I have always known that. And honestly, it's never been an issue.
[It never has been, until...]
I like you so much, Professor. I've never felt this way before. So I don't know what to tell you.
[...]
I don't know what to do.
[He shouldn't. It's not allowed. Anaxagoras has a finale, an ending, anyways. This wouldn't work out.]
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Because of that emptiness, his own want is limitless. Yet he did not reach for it, for anything other than the truth, or his minor preoccupations. Still... ]
How ironic. By you saying this, I have to come clean as well.
...I started to think that it would be alright telling you the things I did now, since my future was already uncertain. That I didn't have to cross the line in the first place.
But, now that you told me this, that you feel the same...
[ Both of them have their own barriers. Hansa's faith, Anaxagoras' fate. They can simply bow their heads and give into it. Admit that they have feelings that can never be properly acted on. But, something about it doesn't sit right with him. He thinks he could have done it, if Hansa had not said anything.
If he hadn't looked him in the eye, at that time in the cafeteria, the anguished emotion breaking into the part of him that had been broken and hid from the surface, the shameful excitement that flickered at the tone as well. If they hadn't fooled around stupidly in that week. If he hadn't seen Hansa's life flash before his own eyes and felt indescribable things. That's why he... ]
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He can't just impose something so unreasonable on someone else. Anaxagoras isn't really an inherently selfish person. He could ask Phainon what he truly desired, he could guide Hyacine or Castorice, he could even engage Mydei as well, associate himself willingly with the Nameless, or involve himself in nonsense. Perhaps even take a lax teaching schedule at times.
But, this is different.
Even if Hansa wished to accept him by his side for whatever reason, he doubts he could be the perfect partner. He doubts he could be what he needs.
Even if he's not really someone who keeps to the status quo...perhaps, this time that is for the best. He looks away from Hansa, he looks down. ]
3/3 for real, im gomen for your inbox
[ Ah, what is he saying? Anaxagoras had just reasoned that he couldn't, that this went beyond just himself now. This wasn't about illuminating anything for anyone.
His gaze is searing on Hansa now, intense, and focused; head raised, looking at him where he's curled up, hiding his face. He feels that emotion too; the desire to hide away from the world, like when he was five, and lost everything. But, he knows what other way he's acted when he's lost it all as well. ]
Thus, in light of this revelation, I ask this:
Is it really turning your back on your faith if you express affection and subsequently enter into relationships? [ Then, for that hollow shell of himself who is quietly questioning the same Hansa is (I don't know what to do): ] Is it a fact that there is no sense in looking towards a future even if it appears set?
[ ...No, he remembers, he remembers...he still accepted his own fate, true (he's entrapped, though is there a path forward he cannot see?) And, he did not see Phainon as just a Deliverer. He did not see the man as one who stood on a pedestal and that alone.
Ergo, why would he do the same to Hansa? He can't force his hand. But, he can only have him gaze upon a potential truth that lies before his very eyes. So, just like that, Anaxagoras spreads his arms. ]
Yes, does that matter? Do we have to accept things as they are? Why can’t we think of exploring, with what time we know we have, and seeing where it takes us?
Is it truly reasonable for us to hold back? Is it? So, tell me...what do you think, Hansa?
...Of the Blasphemer Anaxagoras that would dare turn apparent truths on their own head to reveal what's truly laid inside?
[ Anaxagoras asks in a tone that is suddenly intense, so one might think that he feels no shame at all. But, right now he is the most afraid of all. It’s alright, he tells himself, he is prepared for anything, as his hands tremble, his heart even pounding.
At some point he's even rose to his feet, and he's barely realized it. But, unceremoniously, he's laid the decision at Hansa's feet, whatever it may be. ]
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[He raises his head, meets that blinding gaze. It's like staring at the sun. Something liable to warm him and burn him up all this time.]
[His mouth feels dry, suddenly. In all matters, he's confident and cool and smooth and everything always comes up Hansa Cervantes, in the end.]
[But this feels like a challenge. Cards thrown on the table. Look in the shadows, stare the actual truth in the face. His own breath feels shaky, as he exhales, tries to regain his composure.]
Anaxagoras. What I have devoted to God is absolute. To enter an official relationship is akin to putting someone before Him. To have you, I would...have to step down as a priest. Leave the Church.
[It's not as simple as to throw it all away, pretend like this, this isn't technically "temptation" in its sincerest form.]
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[Inhale, exhale.]
[And then, after a moment, his chest heaves........with a little chuckle, a little laugh. A bubbly thing.]
Ah, but you know, I... [And he's peering up at Anaxagoras, brilliant, damnable Anaxagoras, unable to keep a smile from crawling onto his face.] If you call it "exploring". Just that, and that alone. If only for here and now. I can't promise anything. I can't. If that's not enough for you, then it is...what it is.
[There will be no definition. There can be no certainty. It's not something solid, and honestly, even suggesting it feels nerve-wracking, but...]
[It wouldn't be a solid no, either.]
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Even if he personally never wishes to flinch from anything that is ... well, certainly challenging. Yet, when Hansa looks at him, says those words, his heart is beating so hard, he prepares himself not for simply flat out rejection - that he might have stepped too far.
But, it is neither of those things, Hansa reveals first with that laugh (it has no business making his heart leap like that!) He also sees that brilliant smile open in his direction, and then...the answer arrives. ]
Is it strange if I say that I find it reasonable?
...I already knew despite the things I said that anything would be a stretch, considering your own circumstances.
And...my own.
[ Yet, he did it any damn way. ]
I already know that I couldn't guarantee anything beyond the end of this, even if I have decided I wouldn't give up. So, whatever this is between us - it doesn't have to have a name. It doesn't have to have a proper shape or form.
...But, it means something to the both of us, doesn't it?
[ At this moment, Anaxagoras' eye creases, with a twinkle of evident happiness. Even if, thinking about it, in regards to this, he has admittedly no idea what he is doing. But...it's the same for Hansa, right? ]
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[Hansa moves up to his feet, now, to join the man. There is no name for this. He can't slap a label on it and be done with it.]
[From the beginning, he said he liked the man. That will always be true, no matter what.]
[It means something. It's up to them what it means.]
[He reaches out, arms surrounding the man to pull him close.]
It does. [And now, that wolfish grin is back.] And I guess this means I know you like it when I tease you. You're really giving me too much ammunition.
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Perhaps it will crumble in a various number of ways, perhaps disaster will literally rend them apart.
But, finally, he can let someone hold him. It's warm...
And Hansa is opening his mouth. Yes, he's right. He likes it when he speaks nonsense and teases him so. ]
Tsk. Now you're getting a bit too presumptuous, hm?
[ Anaxagoras asks this in a tone that leans towards an "apparent" kind of reproach...and yet, he leans into him just the same, treasuring that warmth. He feels himself start to learn and test what it is like to lay in someone's arms, relax. ]
Just be aware, if it seems like you have a deluge of ammunition, I may find a way to reflect it back onto you. Are you certain you can handle that?
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[...But in this moment, he wants to. In the end, this is an embrace. He's holding the man close, and he feels happy. Happy in ways he never felt before.]
[He laughs a little, tucking his head against the other's. He won't let him go.]
I suppose I'll just have to tolerate it. I'm a strong guy. A few words won't blow me over.
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He believes his time is still bound to be limited, in all of the senses, so he has to take whatever he can get while it's still possible. One eye slides even closed for a moment.
Just like this, he can even feel Hansa's head against his, and ... there's a little smile as if their situation is in the distance, despite that it has not stopped being what it is. ]
Hmm...
Yes, you wouldn't get blown over so easily. But, what about being tripped up? Can you tolerate that?
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