altimit | .:Oh shit it's November:.

[ Ganymede has been tossing along in his head for awhile now, ever since he had read the letter.

What this means for the future, what Michel had thought all along for the longest time.

He remembers, looking over the network. Getting angry the other thought he had died (why did it matter? but apparently they're all connected more solidly on another side, another world.)

The memory locked in the letter which does not unfurl piece by piece, but feels so real that Michel Bollinger's words would never be a lie. The dour nature of it all despite the hopeful note for him.

(Why can't Michel hold such hope for himself?)

It frustrates him. Aggravates him.

He seeks Fai out, murmuring an ask about joining him for that spot of wine after all. ]

...I read it. It looks like I'll need to share that drink with you. Even though I assumed I wouldn't have to.

Edited 2023-11-05 17:55 (UTC)

[ Fai is having a glass of wine himself, but he has an empty glass right next to him. So, he goes ahead and pours some of the rosé next to him out for Ganymede. ]

My own letter was difficult to finish, so I had a feeling you would...

[ Ganymede accepts the glass, hoping to dull the pain somewhat. But also his frustrations, his anger, his sorrow.

Fai concluded correctly. There's even a moment of silence on Ganymede's part, before, after taking a sip, he asks: ]

He's always been thinking of everyone, hasn't he?

He has.

[ With a small smile, Fai takes a letter out of his pocket and unfolds it, face up, on the table. Ganymede is free to read it if he likes, Fai doesn't mind. ]

He was observant too, whether or not he'd ever admit it.

[ He taps on the paragraph listing all of the traits that made up "Yuui". ]

He wrote an entire paragraph.

[ Ganymede means to say he doesn't have to, but his eyes, they go to read the paper placed before them.

He's always been a curious person; he doesn't hold back in his questions, so maybe it isn't surprising this is true here. ]

...He always looked down on himself first. But, it's true.

Michel's always the kind of person who could recount much about people, his surroundings, and so many other things.

[ He says softly, and he reads the name, 'Yuui' quietly. ]

Yuui is your real name, then?

[ Fai is nosy too, so he really can't blame Ganymede for looking.

Sitting back in his chair, he smiles a little. ]

It must be, if Michel said so. Honestly, this letter was news to me. The things he wrote of... I don't remember much of it, and it terrified me to realize that such big pieces of myself have been locked away.

[ Nosiness must run with blonds.

Ganymede tips back his drink regardless, taking multiple sips at it. ]

I remember...talking about what was in my letter before with Michel, a little bit before he left, because he remembered about my kidnapping, and I didn't. Though, it isn't like I hadn't been keeping track of things, in an attempt to keep some information from slipping away. But, it's hard for any one of us, I think, to have saved all those pieces.

But in the house of mirrors, we saw so many things, so maybe, that's why...they weren't completely lost.

It's strange, isn't it—even if they are bad memories, it isn't like it's good those were taken away too, right?

[ Robbery, family death, kidnapping, senseless death. Ganymede would hope they could all keep the good ones too, but losing any big memories, even terrible, seems scary too. ]

[ Following the battle, Ganymede did not quite have much of an opportunity to get a certain amount of words in before he slipped unconscious; after a trek or return home (in Michel's handsome nerdy arms) to the private area of the McMansion, and adequate rest, dusk leaves before dawn has fallen straight afterwards.

So too does the morning come, as it always does.

Ganymede is the first to stir awake. He double checks that Michel is still with him, asleep beside him...

Pinches himself, once, twice, thrice. Then, he falls back asleep.

When he wakes up again, he ninjas gracefully out of bed, and goes to freshen himself up. Then, he hurries down with some food, to see if he can catch Michel with breakfast in bed; even if he intends on holding a certain kind of discussion with him of great magnitude. He peeks back into their private bedroom. ]

Michel, are you awake?

[ Fragment has completely destroyed Michel's sense of time. Ordinarily, these morning hours would be when he's only just settling down to sleep. But between forgetting that entirely for some weeks, the lingering exhaustion from the fight, the emotional and physical strain, whatever other toll Gorre had taken on his body... he sleeps deeply, not even stirring when Ganymede slips out of bed.

It takes Ganymede's voice to finally rouse him at all. Of course... his first reaction is to squirm a little, reaching for the comforter and slowly pulling it up over his head. So apparently the answer is "not really, not yet."

Give him a second. Or another little nudge. His sleepy brain will catch up eventually. ]

[ See, this is why Ganymede waited a little, and went back to sleep himself, but even with that all said...he can't stay in bed too long. It's a sense of restlessness that returns even after needing adequate rest.

Unfortunately, he laughs a little when he sees the reaction Michel gives. ]

Someone's a sleepyhead.

[ He places the two plates on a nearby piece of furniture, drawers closed below it, of course.

Then, Ganymede goes to poke at the lump of Michel under the comforter in bed a couple times. ]

Wakey, wakey, I made something for a certain special sleepy knight.

Mngh...

[ How does Ganymede always have so much energy? Even after... what just happened yesterday? The poking produces a little more wiggling, and then a drawn-out sigh as Michel slowly emerges from his blanket cocoon.

Just a little. He only tugs the covers down to his nose at first, his red eyes blinking drowsily and a little unfocused at Ganymede. ]

You should be sleeping, too...

[ At least with the blankets like this he can't be caught blushing for being called something that ridiculous. Probably. ]

[ It's why he ended up like he did in Michel's arms. The type to run himself with high energy until he doesn't have no more, but this definitely isn't him falsifying it. He is definitely wide awake now.

A distinct contrast to Michel's sleepy bitch disease condition. Even if admittedly Ganymede could do with more shuteye. ]

Why should I be?

[ He comes on over to the bed, and tugs a little at the blanket. Why is he hiding underneath them still... ]

[ Ganymede's little tug succeeds in uncovering a few more inches of Michel's face; being caught blushing only makes him blush more deeply, a vicious cycle. Michel finally drops the blanket outright to turn away, making a diversion of patting around for his glasses.

His vision isn't anywhere near that bad. But Ganymede can't prove that. ]

Because you just went through a life-or-death battle and repeated emotional trauma yesterday...?

[ Just a thought... But as he finds his glasses and unfolds them, he clears his throat a little. ]

What did you make?

...I had hoped I would be able to keep track of these things, but it's been impossible. I remember speaking to Michel about something painful, but his letter to me doesn't ring a bell. I can't reach the memories he's talking about, no matter how hard I try.

[ And that hurts in and of itself. Searching and searching for something and only scratching the surface enough to know that it's missing and nothing more is a terrible feeling.

But he shakes his head. ]

You're right about it not being a good thing, though. It's part of what makes us ourselves. Michel seemed to be convinced of that, at the very least.

[ ...Aw. Look at Michel's tomato-colored face. Ganymede is trying to figure out why he's getting so embarrassed, though. They've slept in the same bed so many times already.

And he watches the other fish for his glasses. By the way, Ganymede is also now wearing a long t-shirt and rather short shorts. Your welcome. ]

We could both eat breakfast in bed, then. That counts as rest, right?

[ Ganymede goes to grab a little table to move it closer to the bed, settling the plates there. The food's traditionally scrambled eggs, with some orange juice, and toast. Once he gets into bed, he hands a plate to Michel. Was his eyesight always this bad in-game...? ]

This. Did you really need to wear glasses to eat your breakfast, though?

[ Um. Michel might be rather giving away the fact that he can see perfectly fine by the repeated peeks he's sneaking towards Ganymede's hemline.

They're both tired. Emotionally drained. But a simple happiness isn't necessarily one without value. ]

...I suppose that would count.

[ He takes the plate without a second thought, though his brow furrows briefly at the memory. Ganymede bringing food to Gorre... he really might have starved without that. ]

Thank you... [ Too late to escape the call-out, is it? ] ...I-I could find the food, at least. It's just... strange to have them again. I keep feeling that I'll lose them.

[ Nice one, Michel. He notices the unsubtle peeking, and Ganymede may be raising eyebrows at him, like he just knows. He has eyes too.

Anyway, enjoy this spot of little happiness while it lasts. ]

It definitely counts.

[ ...He had been hoping still at the time to have been able to bring Michel back home with the promise of food.

Ganymede considers taking his shirt off and throwing it at Michel playfully but he will also table that as another matter for after they're finished eating. He picks up his own plate too. ]

If you keep them safe in your inventory, you won't have to worry about losing them, right? ...Also, it looks like you can find more than food? If you don't be honest about it, I won't reward you.

...It just feels strange. Being in my own body, having my own clothes. The habits are completely different.

[ He doesn't feel like he should have an "inventory." But the glasses vanish into them again after a moment. One less thing to worry about.

And, one more thing to be distracted about. He clears his throat a little and looks down at his plate. ]

My vision isn't all that bad. It's mostly for the light filtering. I can see most objects well enough...

[ Is that honest enough to get his reward? He flicks a quick hopeful look over at Ganymede~~'s thighs~~. ]

I'm not surprised it was. Our lives can't be easily documented on paper, and...

...I suppose if a certain someone wants us to forget about these things, it's a job somewhat done okayish. There's no way in hell I'd say 'a job well done', though.

[ Ganymede is not pretty happy. Due to the lacking of certain information, he has perhaps been more hopeful than he normally would be, and it is not going to serve him well.

It's fine. So he nods at the words, 'It's part of what makes us ourselves.'

They must not lose their core selves, no matter what. ]

We have a lot to thank him for, then. At this point, because he's documented this for us, even if we had a more recent conversation, and that memory gets wiped away too...we have a more permanent record of something important to us. A key part.

We'll have to make extra sure he's back with us so we can express our appreciation properly.

Are they completely different? Your face still gets red easily.

[ Ganymede remarks in a dry tone, because of course he's poking a little fun. But, Michel is as handsome as ever, and he doesn't care whether or not he is in 'his own body' or otherwise. Michel is Michel. ]

Most objects, like human beings?

[ Well, he isn't under the covers even though he slid back onto the bed. If Michel wants to stare ~~at his thighs~~, he can do it as much as he likes.

That being the case, Ganymede hums a little, before leaning in to press his lips against Michel's at the hopeful look in his eyes and face. He murmurs against them softly: ]

...I probably shouldn't be rewarding you right away.

I should have made my avatar less pale, too, while I had the chance...

[ But it's just a tiny grumble. He misses the slightly sturdier muscles, the... well, other things. But that's eclipsed by the relief of being himself again.

He doesn't fear or despise this body anymore. It simply... feels different. He sneaks another tiny glance at Ganymede, still half distracted in his staring — and a little of the blush is creeping up his face again — when Ganymede catches him with that soft kiss. He smiles a tiny bit against it, tilting his head just a little. ]

N-no, probably not. I still... have a lot of things to make up to you.

[ If it takes Ganymede longer to forgive, that would be more than understandable. ]

[ Michel's development... ]

No way, because then I wouldn't be able to as easily see you blush. Like now.

[ He sees the little blush! Ganymede isn't exactly smiling just yet. He did that when he first saw the other alive...he thinks? It was actually kind of a blur through the weight of everything, and startling relief that was overwhelming in every aspect of the word.

Ganymede huffs a little at the smile too, liking to see it when he pulls away, but refusing to say that. ]

That's right. You need to start with apologizing for all of those things too.

Then, telling me everything. First, though, you need to eat. I'll be pissed with you again if you don't.

[ Either way, Ganymede hasn't exactly forgiven him just yet. ]

[ Michel's expression sobers quickly, and he ducks his head a little. Although... where does he even begin? He turns the plate awkwardly in his hands and stares down at the food.

He doesn't much feel like eating. But that's hardly new for him, and he wants to at least show his appreciation for Ganymede's effort. He pokes a little at the eggs with the fork, gaze cast down still. ]

...I'm so sorry. For opening your door like that. For... the way I acted at the tower...

[ It was Gorre, yes. But Gorre was still made from him. He swallows uncomfortably. ]

...I don't know how to make those things right.

[ It's nothing new, but there is no way Ganymede is allowing the other to escape that at all.

He watches him carefully as his gaze flickers downwards after the light poking at his eggs. There is a small pause on Ganymede's part. Is it because he's about to say that he forgives him? That he is about to let him off lightly and hug him? No, he already embraced him quite a bit.

This is not the time for that. ]

...That's only two things.

You also hid that something was happening to you, and who knows what else you have been keeping away from me. Apologize for that too.

[ In comparison, the fact that the other had his door opened like that hardly feel like anything. In reality, Ganymede doesn't think he faulted him much for the door at all, in fact. As for the tower...that's a little more complicated, isn't it? ]

[ Michel falls silent in turn, weighing those words. It wasn't quite accurate, but... he doesn't want to make any excuses for his choices, either. He's hardly aware of how long the silence is stretching as he considers it. ]

By the time I was certain, there wasn't much remaining. We were all losing memories. I had... no way of knowing that mine was any different than anyone else's. I thought it was only paranoia on my part. That what I was becoming was simply who I am without those memories of happiness to soften the edges of my personality.

[ But Ganymede's point holds true just the same. ]

But I understand if you aren't able to trust me again. ...And I'm deeply sorry for that, as well.

.:Oh shit it's November:.

Fine Wine: Prelude to Chapitre Sombre

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cw: kidnapping mention

Post Battle: Le Crépuscule

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