Testimonials: Iris Virga
Aug. 27th, 2021 07:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
libraryofbabelI: There is... no one at all... dearer to me than you, Grace. Du Miaoshan. (pause) ...Not still living, at least.
I: Grace. Why do you have a tail?
H: I was hoping it would go away, after a bit, but—I suppose not. I sustained... a rather devastating injury. My whole unit did—during one of these games, recently. It leaves marks.
H: ...they're not very much like the Ordo at all, but I'm fond of them. I'd like to protect them, if I can.
I: Of course. Of course you want that. Especially... with such stakes. I just can't accept that you've died. Not once and for all. Not to end here. Surely you, of all of us, should have made it past the bounds of the Demiurge.
H: Even if that's so—if you think that highly of me, I'm glad—I'm told not everyone here is strictly—dead, exactly. Some here receive offers after a while to return to their homes, work completed. It seems that not everyone even has the same notion of Hell, either. My—
H: Though, actually, before I forget, there's probably something else I should tell you.
I: What is it.
H: I... would imagine I never broached this topic with you, Iris, though if I did, I will feel rather silly in a few moments, but, ah... Well. I think I might be gay, Iris. And, ah—well, I'd like you to meet my partner, sometime.
I: Grace. Grace, please understand that I have slept with so many people.
H: Listen. I have been avoiding having a sexuality for a century, Iris; it's strange to talk about!
I: You made me think you were going to tell me something even worse about the nature of Hell.
I: I... admit it's not something I would have expected. You seemed so... devout, even, in your chastity. A better priest than me, in that way. I'd almost come to think I was just too much— well. Too much of a Daeva about it all.
H: Is that what you... well. I don't... know if I had any opinion about that.
H: It's really nothing so special. I just have my own fears that I've never entirely been able to disentangle myself from. I just always had... something more important to do than confront them.
I: Oh. I'm sorry. I—I should have known. I failed you, in that case.
H: How could you have known? I could barely articulate it to myself, I think. And if one can find love in the depths of hell, then a great many things are possible. In any case—I think you'll like them.
I: A-alright. I... well. It sounds... really wonderful, in that case. I don’t entirely know how to handle the idea of there being anything truly good found in hell. But I suppose it’s no surprise that the Demiurge would underestimate you.
H: I will wrest hope from the jaws of despair and no one can stop me.
I: I've always admired your confidence. Your certainty, in everything. I'm glad it is as strong as ever, Hell or not. Before—what you said... Is it possible that you didn't die, after all? Not with... finality, I mean.
H: Well, certainly not that I remember, not that that's a particularly useful metric, but it also seems that Hell has a way to ensnare people who are yet alive, or—you know, approximations thereof—given its current power.
H: Also, I'd be very irritated if I didn't die on my own terms, and given the scope of work that there is to be done and the fact that based on my calculations my "present" is 2014, I rather doubt that all was well enough then for me to decide it was the right time.
I: ...No, you didn’t think it was. You had just started a new... project, after all, and that was still true when I—Ah. The “you” I saw last still intended to see it through. So. I’ll be hopeful.
H: It did seem like it would be rather unlike me—
H: ...did we part ways again, then? I know we were only corresponding for a while.
I: Ah. Well... after things ended in L.A., I went to live in the foothills with Star—I don’t know if you remember them yet. It’s been a year since, for me. You visited once, but... we did succeed in causing a great deal of trouble for everyone else. Lots to do—more with your specialties than mine.
H: Do I...? I'm not sure if I remember them, but—I feel like I get awful about keeping in touch when I'm busy. I'll admit I have no idea what happened in Los Angeles apart from—
H: ...well. I don't know how long it took you to. Recover.
I: ...What is the last thing you remember?
H: I think, based on my understanding—the most recent thing I remember is the girl, the—smaller Sam, as it were. Your sister. When she almost killed you.
I: ...Ah. Well. That wasn't the end of me, no. Sam still needed my help, for one thing.
H: Iris—What happened to you.
I: ...Call it a test of faith, perhaps. Perhaps I'll never learn the answer.
H: How many young people in my care have I failed over the years, I wonder.
I: You didn't fail me. None of it was—your doing.
H: You're gone, aren't you. For good.
I: ...Yes.
H: I—
H: Anything I could give you now would never be enough to make up for it. There are no circumstances where I'd think there was nothing I could have done, for love.
You said there are no circumstances where you'd think there was nothing you could do for love, but there are plenty of things you wouldn't, you proud bastard. She'd give you everything, and you could say she did, and what did you do for her, really?
H: Why wasn't I there?
I: I wanted to be alright. So I told you... that I was alright. I wanted you to be... proud. Of what we'd accomplished. You had lots to do after breaking the Masquerade, after all.
H: I should have known. I know you, you're my—I know you. Maybe I did know, but—I get so wrapped up in things, when I have a project. Was it—was it at least worth it?
I: I think it was.
I: It... was never going to be easy. A lot of neonates died, because they got hopeful first, when the hunters weren't ready yet. But we—you, really; I just helped spread the message— You got it so that, at least in our region, there wasn't going to be any looking back. You made sure it happened for the right reasons. Maybe my life had some meaning, because of that.
H: It always had meaning, Iris. Because your life was part of mine.
I: Grace. Why do you have a tail?
H: I was hoping it would go away, after a bit, but—I suppose not. I sustained... a rather devastating injury. My whole unit did—during one of these games, recently. It leaves marks.
H: ...they're not very much like the Ordo at all, but I'm fond of them. I'd like to protect them, if I can.
I: Of course. Of course you want that. Especially... with such stakes. I just can't accept that you've died. Not once and for all. Not to end here. Surely you, of all of us, should have made it past the bounds of the Demiurge.
H: Even if that's so—if you think that highly of me, I'm glad—I'm told not everyone here is strictly—dead, exactly. Some here receive offers after a while to return to their homes, work completed. It seems that not everyone even has the same notion of Hell, either. My—
H: Though, actually, before I forget, there's probably something else I should tell you.
I: What is it.
H: I... would imagine I never broached this topic with you, Iris, though if I did, I will feel rather silly in a few moments, but, ah... Well. I think I might be gay, Iris. And, ah—well, I'd like you to meet my partner, sometime.
I: Grace. Grace, please understand that I have slept with so many people.
H: Listen. I have been avoiding having a sexuality for a century, Iris; it's strange to talk about!
I: You made me think you were going to tell me something even worse about the nature of Hell.
I: I... admit it's not something I would have expected. You seemed so... devout, even, in your chastity. A better priest than me, in that way. I'd almost come to think I was just too much— well. Too much of a Daeva about it all.
H: Is that what you... well. I don't... know if I had any opinion about that.
H: It's really nothing so special. I just have my own fears that I've never entirely been able to disentangle myself from. I just always had... something more important to do than confront them.
I: Oh. I'm sorry. I—I should have known. I failed you, in that case.
H: How could you have known? I could barely articulate it to myself, I think. And if one can find love in the depths of hell, then a great many things are possible. In any case—I think you'll like them.
I: A-alright. I... well. It sounds... really wonderful, in that case. I don’t entirely know how to handle the idea of there being anything truly good found in hell. But I suppose it’s no surprise that the Demiurge would underestimate you.
H: I will wrest hope from the jaws of despair and no one can stop me.
I: I've always admired your confidence. Your certainty, in everything. I'm glad it is as strong as ever, Hell or not. Before—what you said... Is it possible that you didn't die, after all? Not with... finality, I mean.
H: Well, certainly not that I remember, not that that's a particularly useful metric, but it also seems that Hell has a way to ensnare people who are yet alive, or—you know, approximations thereof—given its current power.
H: Also, I'd be very irritated if I didn't die on my own terms, and given the scope of work that there is to be done and the fact that based on my calculations my "present" is 2014, I rather doubt that all was well enough then for me to decide it was the right time.
I: ...No, you didn’t think it was. You had just started a new... project, after all, and that was still true when I—Ah. The “you” I saw last still intended to see it through. So. I’ll be hopeful.
H: It did seem like it would be rather unlike me—
H: ...did we part ways again, then? I know we were only corresponding for a while.
I: Ah. Well... after things ended in L.A., I went to live in the foothills with Star—I don’t know if you remember them yet. It’s been a year since, for me. You visited once, but... we did succeed in causing a great deal of trouble for everyone else. Lots to do—more with your specialties than mine.
H: Do I...? I'm not sure if I remember them, but—I feel like I get awful about keeping in touch when I'm busy. I'll admit I have no idea what happened in Los Angeles apart from—
H: ...well. I don't know how long it took you to. Recover.
I: ...What is the last thing you remember?
H: I think, based on my understanding—the most recent thing I remember is the girl, the—smaller Sam, as it were. Your sister. When she almost killed you.
I: ...Ah. Well. That wasn't the end of me, no. Sam still needed my help, for one thing.
H: Iris—What happened to you.
I: ...Call it a test of faith, perhaps. Perhaps I'll never learn the answer.
H: How many young people in my care have I failed over the years, I wonder.
I: You didn't fail me. None of it was—your doing.
H: You're gone, aren't you. For good.
I: ...Yes.
H: I—
H: Anything I could give you now would never be enough to make up for it. There are no circumstances where I'd think there was nothing I could have done, for love.
You said there are no circumstances where you'd think there was nothing you could do for love, but there are plenty of things you wouldn't, you proud bastard. She'd give you everything, and you could say she did, and what did you do for her, really?
H: Why wasn't I there?
I: I wanted to be alright. So I told you... that I was alright. I wanted you to be... proud. Of what we'd accomplished. You had lots to do after breaking the Masquerade, after all.
H: I should have known. I know you, you're my—I know you. Maybe I did know, but—I get so wrapped up in things, when I have a project. Was it—was it at least worth it?
I: I think it was.
I: It... was never going to be easy. A lot of neonates died, because they got hopeful first, when the hunters weren't ready yet. But we—you, really; I just helped spread the message— You got it so that, at least in our region, there wasn't going to be any looking back. You made sure it happened for the right reasons. Maybe my life had some meaning, because of that.
H: It always had meaning, Iris. Because your life was part of mine.