The chatbox has been hidden for this page. It will reopen upon refresh. To hide the CBox permanently, select "Permanently Toggle Cbox" in your profile User Settings.
This chatbox is hidden. To reopen, edit your User Settings.
It was at least half a day before Vangelis had a moment to himself on board the vessel bound for Taengea.
Whilst the captain of this particular craft was in charge of the sailors and means of navigating the ship, Vangelis was far from purposeless as his men took to the waters of the Aegean in the form of a small fleet. Across the waves were a dozen Colchian ships bearing men of equal number to his own: fifty a piece. Six hundred men to fight a single skirmish on the shores of northern most Egypt. It was a medium sized force but excessive when added to that which King Achilleas would have already taken - small as his plan of attack had been.
But then... that was the plan.
To ensure an end to this war before it began - to whip Egypt's ambitions for Greece from its harbours and ports in a single strike that would render further combat relegated to months in the future. Months that would allow Athenia the time it needed to settle its political upheavals, calm its people and organise its militia so that they might honour the Peace Treaty between the nations.
One single blow. To prevent a long-standing series of battles that would leave hundreds dead.
As such, Vangelis had many duties aboard his craft. Not only was he first to be reported to on the supplies, their status, their security and the same statistics for the men, but he was also the first point of call for the captain to issue updates on the launch and voyage through the Kirakles Isles and the rocky outcroppings that extended south into the deeper waters.
They had left the docklands of Midas at mid-morning... and it was nearing dusk by the time Vangelis was able to stand on the deck of the ship and not be immediately spoken to by some soldier, sailor or helmsman who needed to ask a question or make a report.
This was always the way. For the launch and the docking of a vessel - let alone an entire fleet of them - was always the most difficult of sailings. Only storms and weather issues could provide a more open chance for disaster. And the Master of Sea had already predicted a smooth sail between Colchis and their brother kingdom in the south.
Now, with the launch hours behind them and the open see ahead, Vangelis was left to stand upon the front peak of his ship and look out towards the horizon that gradually faded from aquamarine to magenta. Having abandoned his ceremonial spear in the deepest storage of the craft (and having no intention to take it up again until he returned home), Vangelis stood without its support, his legs absorbing the sway and shift of the boat.
When the red of the sky faded into a royal blue, at risk of darkening to navy, Vangelis was broken from his thoughts of nothing in particular by a sailor that offered up the flame of a torch for his oil lamp. With a quick gesture, he moved the bronze piece into proximity enough that a spark lit the oil and he was once more able to see.
With a quite word to the deck boy, Vangelis was left alone for just a few minutes before the child returned with a wrapped bundle of thick black wool.
Taking his own cloak from the boy's hands, Vangelis putted the swath around his shoulders, fastened it at his neck and then pulled it closer around his frame from the inside. It was his intention to remain at point until the breaking of dawn and it would grow cold as the night-time hours drew on.
As he pulled his arms close about his frame, Vangelis felt the crumple of parchment against his skin, the dull rustle seeping up and out of his cloak at the neckline.
He hadn't forgotten the letter that Selene had given him. Nor had he jumped to read it the second he had been afforded time alone. Instead, it had remained hooked into the belt of his tunic. Waiting to be unsealed and read. And yet he hadn't drawn it from his waist.
Looking out towards where sky met sea, Vangelis watched as neither seemed to change. Despite the motion beneath him and the wind in his face telling him that they were moving forwards, the skyline never altered. Perhaps somewhere in his mind, he thought that - by not reading the letter - he was keeping the same effect upon his life. The seconds and minutes were passing... but the significance of what was around him wasn't changing.
Annoyed at himself for such a happenstance of philosophical nonsense, the frustration of the moment had Vangelis reach for the letter in some flicker of a rebellious nature. Or, perhaps, a determination to return to his less sentimental nature. He plucked the parchment from his belt, drew it out to the cold air.
At the worst possible moment, the ship rocked and the wind picked up and Vangelis lost his hold on the folded letter. It flickered in his hold, yanked free and made to sail over his left shoulder.
His reflexes quick enough and his curiosity to see within the missive powerful enough, Vangelis's hand snatched out and reclaimed the note, forcing crinkles into its surface. He held it with a strength that risked tearing, waited for the wind to die down and then turned forwards once more.
Re-securing his cloak around his arms, Vangelis pinned the garment with his elbows to stay warm and then dug a nail beneath the seal of the letter. The noise behind him told him that the men were busy with their own duties and the oil lamp was enough for him to read by even as Nyx drew her blanket of stars and darkness. Now was as good a time as any to read what Selene had dubbed as the "final letter". With a calmness of motion and a slow unfolding of paper, Vangelis set the letter close to the light of his oil burner and began to read...
'I want to be angry at you.'
Fantastic.
Whilst the opening paragraph in question went on to say that such an emotion was not Selene's harboured feelings to him, Vangelis could not blame her for the deduction of his own feelings on the matter. For it was true that he had assumed her angry. Perhaps not at him personally - though he personally considered himself worthy of it - but certainly at the situation. Her forceful slap to his face had been sure to imply such anger at least.
Yet, as she went on to describe how that moment was... an expelling... of sadness over wrath, Vangelis found that he could understand that. Hadn't he entered into a heated argument with his brother the evening that he had discovered the truth? Had he not manhandled Thea into following him to the Kotas manor, his reactions bordering on violence in their own way?
'I know you get no pleasure out of this...'
Well, that was perhaps the first person to admit such a thing. Zanon seemed angry enough over the entire thing to suppose that Vangelis took some kind of sadistic enjoyment of recent events. Or simply didn't care one way or another. Whilst he had no interest in sharing those feelings with anyone - his brother included - he felt a sense of kinship with the absent Selene, for recognising such a thing. Without his company or presence, no less.
Over the course of the next paragraph, Vangelis was unsure whether he felt shame or humbled. Selene's faith in him as a man was perhaps baseless - for he feared himself to be less than the consciously moral individual that she had painted in her mind - but it was honourable nonetheless. Not to mention true. Any future knowledge of consequences with Thea would have prevented him from entangling himself with her on the floor of his father's study. Were he to do events again with no additional wisdom, he could not argue that he wouldn't do the same. But with prophetic hindsight? It was true that he would never have risked the arrangement he had been set to make with Selene.
...'make me sick with grief.'
The fact that Selene felt remorse over any part of this entire, convoluted mess, had Vangelis almost shaking his head to himself. For she was blameless in it all and he had been and still was perfectly content with her reactions. She had been angry. He had been there. He had been the cause. And thus, the anger had been transferred. Was it not the role of a husband to give his wife what she needed? Even if, in that moment, she needed something to hit?
Bizarre as it might seem, where was the harm in offering a woman that which she needed to feel better that left him little the worse for wear than perhaps reddened skin for a half hour?
'If it was not plain to you, let me leave no room for question--'
Vangelis frowned.
'I love you.'
His eyes widened.
His stare focused on those words for a moment, re-reading the paragraph before it and then from the start of the letter once more with such a revelation in mind.
His brother had told him several times of Selene's supposed affection for him - of her love. He had made such a comment several times the night he had gone to his brother's rooms to tell him of Thea's pregnancy. He had never particularly listened. Nike had done the same and his reaction had been equally resolute.
It wasn't that he hadn't trusted the opinions of his brother and closest Commander. More that he knew they had faith in what they were saying and yet they were interpreting the situation differently than he. That they had not been privy to the letters shared between himself and Selene - that they had not known the friendship that had developed more on parchment than in reality. For, without such understanding of course the attentions that they paid to each other would appear as love and caring.
Friendship appeared impossible between a man of his birth and standing and a woman who had made no secret of her family's desire that she should marry just such a man.
He had always considered himself to know differently. To know the hidden secret of genuine connection that existed outside of romance and proposals.
Even in their moments alone, in which they had tested - within boundaries - their future as a physical couple he had never gone so far as to assume so deep an affection as love on her part. Friendship, yes. Desire, apparently so. But love was something intensely different. It included both but also a thousand and one other things that were unique to every relationship. At least, as far as he could tell. He had only ever been outside looking in on that particular topic.
'I will ask one thing of you-- try to find some happiness in this life...
Air was blunt as it left Vangelis' nose and his eyes rolled a little. He was tempted, once more, to shake his head again. Selene was so generous of heart that sometimes he wondered if it were real. And then he would see her, in the flesh, and watch the manner in which she tended to others - often subconsciously - and he knew such words to be heartfelt.
'...know that you were loved, with every fibre of my being. For a man riding off to battle should know his memory is well protected in the heart of a woman who bore that love for him.'
The letter ended with just such a sentiment and Vangelis paused for a moment, his gaze still on the paper and analysing the way that Selene formed the 'S' of her name in carefully crafted ink. The woman was always deliberate in every detail.
Unsure how to process anything he had just read, Vangelis was careful in re-reading it a few times. He would pause between each paragraph, absorb the words and then remind himself of them once more. By the time he had read it through three times total, he was no wiser than he had been before breaking its seal.
Taking a long and slow inhale through his nose, Vangelis held the air and then released in just as slow an exhale. As he did so, his hands parted ways, and the parchment was torn in an arrow-straight rip from top to tail. Folding the pieces and ripping them once more, Vangelis then leaned on the ship's edge, his forearms braced upon the wooden wall and dropped the jagged pieces - snowy white in the darkness - down into the waves.
He kept his eyes on them until they had dissolved and sunk entirely from view. Removed from the world, save for the memory of the words in his own head.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Apr 12, 2020 21:54:40 GMT
Posted In 'All My Love' on Apr 12, 2020 21:54:40 GMT
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
It was at least half a day before Vangelis had a moment to himself on board the vessel bound for Taengea.
Whilst the captain of this particular craft was in charge of the sailors and means of navigating the ship, Vangelis was far from purposeless as his men took to the waters of the Aegean in the form of a small fleet. Across the waves were a dozen Colchian ships bearing men of equal number to his own: fifty a piece. Six hundred men to fight a single skirmish on the shores of northern most Egypt. It was a medium sized force but excessive when added to that which King Achilleas would have already taken - small as his plan of attack had been.
But then... that was the plan.
To ensure an end to this war before it began - to whip Egypt's ambitions for Greece from its harbours and ports in a single strike that would render further combat relegated to months in the future. Months that would allow Athenia the time it needed to settle its political upheavals, calm its people and organise its militia so that they might honour the Peace Treaty between the nations.
One single blow. To prevent a long-standing series of battles that would leave hundreds dead.
As such, Vangelis had many duties aboard his craft. Not only was he first to be reported to on the supplies, their status, their security and the same statistics for the men, but he was also the first point of call for the captain to issue updates on the launch and voyage through the Kirakles Isles and the rocky outcroppings that extended south into the deeper waters.
They had left the docklands of Midas at mid-morning... and it was nearing dusk by the time Vangelis was able to stand on the deck of the ship and not be immediately spoken to by some soldier, sailor or helmsman who needed to ask a question or make a report.
This was always the way. For the launch and the docking of a vessel - let alone an entire fleet of them - was always the most difficult of sailings. Only storms and weather issues could provide a more open chance for disaster. And the Master of Sea had already predicted a smooth sail between Colchis and their brother kingdom in the south.
Now, with the launch hours behind them and the open see ahead, Vangelis was left to stand upon the front peak of his ship and look out towards the horizon that gradually faded from aquamarine to magenta. Having abandoned his ceremonial spear in the deepest storage of the craft (and having no intention to take it up again until he returned home), Vangelis stood without its support, his legs absorbing the sway and shift of the boat.
When the red of the sky faded into a royal blue, at risk of darkening to navy, Vangelis was broken from his thoughts of nothing in particular by a sailor that offered up the flame of a torch for his oil lamp. With a quick gesture, he moved the bronze piece into proximity enough that a spark lit the oil and he was once more able to see.
With a quite word to the deck boy, Vangelis was left alone for just a few minutes before the child returned with a wrapped bundle of thick black wool.
Taking his own cloak from the boy's hands, Vangelis putted the swath around his shoulders, fastened it at his neck and then pulled it closer around his frame from the inside. It was his intention to remain at point until the breaking of dawn and it would grow cold as the night-time hours drew on.
As he pulled his arms close about his frame, Vangelis felt the crumple of parchment against his skin, the dull rustle seeping up and out of his cloak at the neckline.
He hadn't forgotten the letter that Selene had given him. Nor had he jumped to read it the second he had been afforded time alone. Instead, it had remained hooked into the belt of his tunic. Waiting to be unsealed and read. And yet he hadn't drawn it from his waist.
Looking out towards where sky met sea, Vangelis watched as neither seemed to change. Despite the motion beneath him and the wind in his face telling him that they were moving forwards, the skyline never altered. Perhaps somewhere in his mind, he thought that - by not reading the letter - he was keeping the same effect upon his life. The seconds and minutes were passing... but the significance of what was around him wasn't changing.
Annoyed at himself for such a happenstance of philosophical nonsense, the frustration of the moment had Vangelis reach for the letter in some flicker of a rebellious nature. Or, perhaps, a determination to return to his less sentimental nature. He plucked the parchment from his belt, drew it out to the cold air.
At the worst possible moment, the ship rocked and the wind picked up and Vangelis lost his hold on the folded letter. It flickered in his hold, yanked free and made to sail over his left shoulder.
His reflexes quick enough and his curiosity to see within the missive powerful enough, Vangelis's hand snatched out and reclaimed the note, forcing crinkles into its surface. He held it with a strength that risked tearing, waited for the wind to die down and then turned forwards once more.
Re-securing his cloak around his arms, Vangelis pinned the garment with his elbows to stay warm and then dug a nail beneath the seal of the letter. The noise behind him told him that the men were busy with their own duties and the oil lamp was enough for him to read by even as Nyx drew her blanket of stars and darkness. Now was as good a time as any to read what Selene had dubbed as the "final letter". With a calmness of motion and a slow unfolding of paper, Vangelis set the letter close to the light of his oil burner and began to read...
'I want to be angry at you.'
Fantastic.
Whilst the opening paragraph in question went on to say that such an emotion was not Selene's harboured feelings to him, Vangelis could not blame her for the deduction of his own feelings on the matter. For it was true that he had assumed her angry. Perhaps not at him personally - though he personally considered himself worthy of it - but certainly at the situation. Her forceful slap to his face had been sure to imply such anger at least.
Yet, as she went on to describe how that moment was... an expelling... of sadness over wrath, Vangelis found that he could understand that. Hadn't he entered into a heated argument with his brother the evening that he had discovered the truth? Had he not manhandled Thea into following him to the Kotas manor, his reactions bordering on violence in their own way?
'I know you get no pleasure out of this...'
Well, that was perhaps the first person to admit such a thing. Zanon seemed angry enough over the entire thing to suppose that Vangelis took some kind of sadistic enjoyment of recent events. Or simply didn't care one way or another. Whilst he had no interest in sharing those feelings with anyone - his brother included - he felt a sense of kinship with the absent Selene, for recognising such a thing. Without his company or presence, no less.
Over the course of the next paragraph, Vangelis was unsure whether he felt shame or humbled. Selene's faith in him as a man was perhaps baseless - for he feared himself to be less than the consciously moral individual that she had painted in her mind - but it was honourable nonetheless. Not to mention true. Any future knowledge of consequences with Thea would have prevented him from entangling himself with her on the floor of his father's study. Were he to do events again with no additional wisdom, he could not argue that he wouldn't do the same. But with prophetic hindsight? It was true that he would never have risked the arrangement he had been set to make with Selene.
...'make me sick with grief.'
The fact that Selene felt remorse over any part of this entire, convoluted mess, had Vangelis almost shaking his head to himself. For she was blameless in it all and he had been and still was perfectly content with her reactions. She had been angry. He had been there. He had been the cause. And thus, the anger had been transferred. Was it not the role of a husband to give his wife what she needed? Even if, in that moment, she needed something to hit?
Bizarre as it might seem, where was the harm in offering a woman that which she needed to feel better that left him little the worse for wear than perhaps reddened skin for a half hour?
'If it was not plain to you, let me leave no room for question--'
Vangelis frowned.
'I love you.'
His eyes widened.
His stare focused on those words for a moment, re-reading the paragraph before it and then from the start of the letter once more with such a revelation in mind.
His brother had told him several times of Selene's supposed affection for him - of her love. He had made such a comment several times the night he had gone to his brother's rooms to tell him of Thea's pregnancy. He had never particularly listened. Nike had done the same and his reaction had been equally resolute.
It wasn't that he hadn't trusted the opinions of his brother and closest Commander. More that he knew they had faith in what they were saying and yet they were interpreting the situation differently than he. That they had not been privy to the letters shared between himself and Selene - that they had not known the friendship that had developed more on parchment than in reality. For, without such understanding of course the attentions that they paid to each other would appear as love and caring.
Friendship appeared impossible between a man of his birth and standing and a woman who had made no secret of her family's desire that she should marry just such a man.
He had always considered himself to know differently. To know the hidden secret of genuine connection that existed outside of romance and proposals.
Even in their moments alone, in which they had tested - within boundaries - their future as a physical couple he had never gone so far as to assume so deep an affection as love on her part. Friendship, yes. Desire, apparently so. But love was something intensely different. It included both but also a thousand and one other things that were unique to every relationship. At least, as far as he could tell. He had only ever been outside looking in on that particular topic.
'I will ask one thing of you-- try to find some happiness in this life...
Air was blunt as it left Vangelis' nose and his eyes rolled a little. He was tempted, once more, to shake his head again. Selene was so generous of heart that sometimes he wondered if it were real. And then he would see her, in the flesh, and watch the manner in which she tended to others - often subconsciously - and he knew such words to be heartfelt.
'...know that you were loved, with every fibre of my being. For a man riding off to battle should know his memory is well protected in the heart of a woman who bore that love for him.'
The letter ended with just such a sentiment and Vangelis paused for a moment, his gaze still on the paper and analysing the way that Selene formed the 'S' of her name in carefully crafted ink. The woman was always deliberate in every detail.
Unsure how to process anything he had just read, Vangelis was careful in re-reading it a few times. He would pause between each paragraph, absorb the words and then remind himself of them once more. By the time he had read it through three times total, he was no wiser than he had been before breaking its seal.
Taking a long and slow inhale through his nose, Vangelis held the air and then released in just as slow an exhale. As he did so, his hands parted ways, and the parchment was torn in an arrow-straight rip from top to tail. Folding the pieces and ripping them once more, Vangelis then leaned on the ship's edge, his forearms braced upon the wooden wall and dropped the jagged pieces - snowy white in the darkness - down into the waves.
He kept his eyes on them until they had dissolved and sunk entirely from view. Removed from the world, save for the memory of the words in his own head.
It was at least half a day before Vangelis had a moment to himself on board the vessel bound for Taengea.
Whilst the captain of this particular craft was in charge of the sailors and means of navigating the ship, Vangelis was far from purposeless as his men took to the waters of the Aegean in the form of a small fleet. Across the waves were a dozen Colchian ships bearing men of equal number to his own: fifty a piece. Six hundred men to fight a single skirmish on the shores of northern most Egypt. It was a medium sized force but excessive when added to that which King Achilleas would have already taken - small as his plan of attack had been.
But then... that was the plan.
To ensure an end to this war before it began - to whip Egypt's ambitions for Greece from its harbours and ports in a single strike that would render further combat relegated to months in the future. Months that would allow Athenia the time it needed to settle its political upheavals, calm its people and organise its militia so that they might honour the Peace Treaty between the nations.
One single blow. To prevent a long-standing series of battles that would leave hundreds dead.
As such, Vangelis had many duties aboard his craft. Not only was he first to be reported to on the supplies, their status, their security and the same statistics for the men, but he was also the first point of call for the captain to issue updates on the launch and voyage through the Kirakles Isles and the rocky outcroppings that extended south into the deeper waters.
They had left the docklands of Midas at mid-morning... and it was nearing dusk by the time Vangelis was able to stand on the deck of the ship and not be immediately spoken to by some soldier, sailor or helmsman who needed to ask a question or make a report.
This was always the way. For the launch and the docking of a vessel - let alone an entire fleet of them - was always the most difficult of sailings. Only storms and weather issues could provide a more open chance for disaster. And the Master of Sea had already predicted a smooth sail between Colchis and their brother kingdom in the south.
Now, with the launch hours behind them and the open see ahead, Vangelis was left to stand upon the front peak of his ship and look out towards the horizon that gradually faded from aquamarine to magenta. Having abandoned his ceremonial spear in the deepest storage of the craft (and having no intention to take it up again until he returned home), Vangelis stood without its support, his legs absorbing the sway and shift of the boat.
When the red of the sky faded into a royal blue, at risk of darkening to navy, Vangelis was broken from his thoughts of nothing in particular by a sailor that offered up the flame of a torch for his oil lamp. With a quick gesture, he moved the bronze piece into proximity enough that a spark lit the oil and he was once more able to see.
With a quite word to the deck boy, Vangelis was left alone for just a few minutes before the child returned with a wrapped bundle of thick black wool.
Taking his own cloak from the boy's hands, Vangelis putted the swath around his shoulders, fastened it at his neck and then pulled it closer around his frame from the inside. It was his intention to remain at point until the breaking of dawn and it would grow cold as the night-time hours drew on.
As he pulled his arms close about his frame, Vangelis felt the crumple of parchment against his skin, the dull rustle seeping up and out of his cloak at the neckline.
He hadn't forgotten the letter that Selene had given him. Nor had he jumped to read it the second he had been afforded time alone. Instead, it had remained hooked into the belt of his tunic. Waiting to be unsealed and read. And yet he hadn't drawn it from his waist.
Looking out towards where sky met sea, Vangelis watched as neither seemed to change. Despite the motion beneath him and the wind in his face telling him that they were moving forwards, the skyline never altered. Perhaps somewhere in his mind, he thought that - by not reading the letter - he was keeping the same effect upon his life. The seconds and minutes were passing... but the significance of what was around him wasn't changing.
Annoyed at himself for such a happenstance of philosophical nonsense, the frustration of the moment had Vangelis reach for the letter in some flicker of a rebellious nature. Or, perhaps, a determination to return to his less sentimental nature. He plucked the parchment from his belt, drew it out to the cold air.
At the worst possible moment, the ship rocked and the wind picked up and Vangelis lost his hold on the folded letter. It flickered in his hold, yanked free and made to sail over his left shoulder.
His reflexes quick enough and his curiosity to see within the missive powerful enough, Vangelis's hand snatched out and reclaimed the note, forcing crinkles into its surface. He held it with a strength that risked tearing, waited for the wind to die down and then turned forwards once more.
Re-securing his cloak around his arms, Vangelis pinned the garment with his elbows to stay warm and then dug a nail beneath the seal of the letter. The noise behind him told him that the men were busy with their own duties and the oil lamp was enough for him to read by even as Nyx drew her blanket of stars and darkness. Now was as good a time as any to read what Selene had dubbed as the "final letter". With a calmness of motion and a slow unfolding of paper, Vangelis set the letter close to the light of his oil burner and began to read...
'I want to be angry at you.'
Fantastic.
Whilst the opening paragraph in question went on to say that such an emotion was not Selene's harboured feelings to him, Vangelis could not blame her for the deduction of his own feelings on the matter. For it was true that he had assumed her angry. Perhaps not at him personally - though he personally considered himself worthy of it - but certainly at the situation. Her forceful slap to his face had been sure to imply such anger at least.
Yet, as she went on to describe how that moment was... an expelling... of sadness over wrath, Vangelis found that he could understand that. Hadn't he entered into a heated argument with his brother the evening that he had discovered the truth? Had he not manhandled Thea into following him to the Kotas manor, his reactions bordering on violence in their own way?
'I know you get no pleasure out of this...'
Well, that was perhaps the first person to admit such a thing. Zanon seemed angry enough over the entire thing to suppose that Vangelis took some kind of sadistic enjoyment of recent events. Or simply didn't care one way or another. Whilst he had no interest in sharing those feelings with anyone - his brother included - he felt a sense of kinship with the absent Selene, for recognising such a thing. Without his company or presence, no less.
Over the course of the next paragraph, Vangelis was unsure whether he felt shame or humbled. Selene's faith in him as a man was perhaps baseless - for he feared himself to be less than the consciously moral individual that she had painted in her mind - but it was honourable nonetheless. Not to mention true. Any future knowledge of consequences with Thea would have prevented him from entangling himself with her on the floor of his father's study. Were he to do events again with no additional wisdom, he could not argue that he wouldn't do the same. But with prophetic hindsight? It was true that he would never have risked the arrangement he had been set to make with Selene.
...'make me sick with grief.'
The fact that Selene felt remorse over any part of this entire, convoluted mess, had Vangelis almost shaking his head to himself. For she was blameless in it all and he had been and still was perfectly content with her reactions. She had been angry. He had been there. He had been the cause. And thus, the anger had been transferred. Was it not the role of a husband to give his wife what she needed? Even if, in that moment, she needed something to hit?
Bizarre as it might seem, where was the harm in offering a woman that which she needed to feel better that left him little the worse for wear than perhaps reddened skin for a half hour?
'If it was not plain to you, let me leave no room for question--'
Vangelis frowned.
'I love you.'
His eyes widened.
His stare focused on those words for a moment, re-reading the paragraph before it and then from the start of the letter once more with such a revelation in mind.
His brother had told him several times of Selene's supposed affection for him - of her love. He had made such a comment several times the night he had gone to his brother's rooms to tell him of Thea's pregnancy. He had never particularly listened. Nike had done the same and his reaction had been equally resolute.
It wasn't that he hadn't trusted the opinions of his brother and closest Commander. More that he knew they had faith in what they were saying and yet they were interpreting the situation differently than he. That they had not been privy to the letters shared between himself and Selene - that they had not known the friendship that had developed more on parchment than in reality. For, without such understanding of course the attentions that they paid to each other would appear as love and caring.
Friendship appeared impossible between a man of his birth and standing and a woman who had made no secret of her family's desire that she should marry just such a man.
He had always considered himself to know differently. To know the hidden secret of genuine connection that existed outside of romance and proposals.
Even in their moments alone, in which they had tested - within boundaries - their future as a physical couple he had never gone so far as to assume so deep an affection as love on her part. Friendship, yes. Desire, apparently so. But love was something intensely different. It included both but also a thousand and one other things that were unique to every relationship. At least, as far as he could tell. He had only ever been outside looking in on that particular topic.
'I will ask one thing of you-- try to find some happiness in this life...
Air was blunt as it left Vangelis' nose and his eyes rolled a little. He was tempted, once more, to shake his head again. Selene was so generous of heart that sometimes he wondered if it were real. And then he would see her, in the flesh, and watch the manner in which she tended to others - often subconsciously - and he knew such words to be heartfelt.
'...know that you were loved, with every fibre of my being. For a man riding off to battle should know his memory is well protected in the heart of a woman who bore that love for him.'
The letter ended with just such a sentiment and Vangelis paused for a moment, his gaze still on the paper and analysing the way that Selene formed the 'S' of her name in carefully crafted ink. The woman was always deliberate in every detail.
Unsure how to process anything he had just read, Vangelis was careful in re-reading it a few times. He would pause between each paragraph, absorb the words and then remind himself of them once more. By the time he had read it through three times total, he was no wiser than he had been before breaking its seal.
Taking a long and slow inhale through his nose, Vangelis held the air and then released in just as slow an exhale. As he did so, his hands parted ways, and the parchment was torn in an arrow-straight rip from top to tail. Folding the pieces and ripping them once more, Vangelis then leaned on the ship's edge, his forearms braced upon the wooden wall and dropped the jagged pieces - snowy white in the darkness - down into the waves.
He kept his eyes on them until they had dissolved and sunk entirely from view. Removed from the world, save for the memory of the words in his own head.
He was not usually one to complain at staying awake. In fact, Silanos often worked really hard to ensure he did just that. But his establised habits had been turned on their head over the past weeks, first by Maleos, and now by the Crown Prince. Sil was living his life on someone else'sschedule. Much of what that entailed, he despised with every fibre of his being, but if there had been some unexpectedwin, it was that his sleep patterns seemed to be falling into something...well, patternish. Whereas before he’d been master of burning the candle at both ends and finally sending himself off with the aid of drugs or wine, Silanos’ lack of freedom in anything had seen him keeping somewhat more regular hours. And with that had come a surprising liberation from the nighmares that he’d fallen into so frequently before.
They were still there, but far fewer, and as fas as Sil could see, he could only begrudgingly credit that to enforced sobriety and being so fucking tired at the end of a day that he was spark out within moments of his head hitting the mattress. Being an errand boy was surprisingly exhausting. Which was why, as he stood with his arms wrapped around himself to try and chase off the cold, he kept shooting looks up to the bow of the boat, where Vangelis had been for some time.
Still waiting for the man to dismiss him - because Sil had learnt the hard way that he only got to sleep when the Prince slept - he had been standing midships for what felt like hours. The sun had long ago slipped beneath the horizon, and now the diamond like constellations of Nyx’s cloak could be seen twinkling overhead. For a while, Silanos had been content stargazing, but even a pastime that conjured pleasant memories couldn’t hold his attention for too long when he was cold and hungry and tired.
And so his attention had flickered more insistently toward the shadowed figure of the Kotas prince, Sil trying to will the man into remembering he even fucking existed. He was...curious perhaps then, when Vangelis finally ceased his moody distance gazing and appeared to move to the lamp light so he could read something..a letter, for as much the Valaoritis could make out. He rolled his eyes, because really?. Vangelis couldn’t read his letters tomorrow or whatever?
He huffed and shoved his hands under his armpits to try and warm up a little, it was much cooler out on the water, with an ever present wind that breezed right through the linen of his tunic. Compared to feeling kind of sweaty and hot earlier after his overindulgence of the night before, now Sil was cold and envious of the himation that the Prince had somehow magicked out of nowhere.
His patience ran out.
Thinking he would just sidle up and remind the Crown Prince that he was still standing around like a lemon with fuck all to do for no apparent reason, Sil wasn’t being particularly careful with his footsteps. But maybe with the sough of the wind or the ever present sounds of shifting water Vangelis didn’t hear him, because when the younger man was a handful of steps away, he paused when the Kotas man suddenly moved, ripped the letter he’d been reading into shreds and dropped it into the waters below. Sil’s eyebrows lifted as he considered what kind of letter would prompt such a reaction, and he grimaced. Being in such close proximity to the Kotas family meant that he was hardly unaware of some of the drama that went on within the manor. He wasn’t privy to everything, had made some guesswork, but now he was suddenly thinking it maybe wasn't the right time to speak to the man before him.
He should have turned tail and walked back down the ship. Later, he would ask himself why the fuck he hadn’t, but in a moment of most inconvenient empathy or whatever, he didn’t know, Silanos cleared his throat, announced his presence.
“Something you didn’t want to hear?” he ventured, not looking at Vangelis but instead nodding toward the water below, which had now swallowed whatever words had so offended the Prince. “You know, if it helps, I’ve always thought Thea the most..uh..approachable of the Thanasi.”
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Apr 22, 2020 20:30:13 GMT
Posted In 'All My Love' on Apr 22, 2020 20:30:13 GMT
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
He was not usually one to complain at staying awake. In fact, Silanos often worked really hard to ensure he did just that. But his establised habits had been turned on their head over the past weeks, first by Maleos, and now by the Crown Prince. Sil was living his life on someone else'sschedule. Much of what that entailed, he despised with every fibre of his being, but if there had been some unexpectedwin, it was that his sleep patterns seemed to be falling into something...well, patternish. Whereas before he’d been master of burning the candle at both ends and finally sending himself off with the aid of drugs or wine, Silanos’ lack of freedom in anything had seen him keeping somewhat more regular hours. And with that had come a surprising liberation from the nighmares that he’d fallen into so frequently before.
They were still there, but far fewer, and as fas as Sil could see, he could only begrudgingly credit that to enforced sobriety and being so fucking tired at the end of a day that he was spark out within moments of his head hitting the mattress. Being an errand boy was surprisingly exhausting. Which was why, as he stood with his arms wrapped around himself to try and chase off the cold, he kept shooting looks up to the bow of the boat, where Vangelis had been for some time.
Still waiting for the man to dismiss him - because Sil had learnt the hard way that he only got to sleep when the Prince slept - he had been standing midships for what felt like hours. The sun had long ago slipped beneath the horizon, and now the diamond like constellations of Nyx’s cloak could be seen twinkling overhead. For a while, Silanos had been content stargazing, but even a pastime that conjured pleasant memories couldn’t hold his attention for too long when he was cold and hungry and tired.
And so his attention had flickered more insistently toward the shadowed figure of the Kotas prince, Sil trying to will the man into remembering he even fucking existed. He was...curious perhaps then, when Vangelis finally ceased his moody distance gazing and appeared to move to the lamp light so he could read something..a letter, for as much the Valaoritis could make out. He rolled his eyes, because really?. Vangelis couldn’t read his letters tomorrow or whatever?
He huffed and shoved his hands under his armpits to try and warm up a little, it was much cooler out on the water, with an ever present wind that breezed right through the linen of his tunic. Compared to feeling kind of sweaty and hot earlier after his overindulgence of the night before, now Sil was cold and envious of the himation that the Prince had somehow magicked out of nowhere.
His patience ran out.
Thinking he would just sidle up and remind the Crown Prince that he was still standing around like a lemon with fuck all to do for no apparent reason, Sil wasn’t being particularly careful with his footsteps. But maybe with the sough of the wind or the ever present sounds of shifting water Vangelis didn’t hear him, because when the younger man was a handful of steps away, he paused when the Kotas man suddenly moved, ripped the letter he’d been reading into shreds and dropped it into the waters below. Sil’s eyebrows lifted as he considered what kind of letter would prompt such a reaction, and he grimaced. Being in such close proximity to the Kotas family meant that he was hardly unaware of some of the drama that went on within the manor. He wasn’t privy to everything, had made some guesswork, but now he was suddenly thinking it maybe wasn't the right time to speak to the man before him.
He should have turned tail and walked back down the ship. Later, he would ask himself why the fuck he hadn’t, but in a moment of most inconvenient empathy or whatever, he didn’t know, Silanos cleared his throat, announced his presence.
“Something you didn’t want to hear?” he ventured, not looking at Vangelis but instead nodding toward the water below, which had now swallowed whatever words had so offended the Prince. “You know, if it helps, I’ve always thought Thea the most..uh..approachable of the Thanasi.”
He was not usually one to complain at staying awake. In fact, Silanos often worked really hard to ensure he did just that. But his establised habits had been turned on their head over the past weeks, first by Maleos, and now by the Crown Prince. Sil was living his life on someone else'sschedule. Much of what that entailed, he despised with every fibre of his being, but if there had been some unexpectedwin, it was that his sleep patterns seemed to be falling into something...well, patternish. Whereas before he’d been master of burning the candle at both ends and finally sending himself off with the aid of drugs or wine, Silanos’ lack of freedom in anything had seen him keeping somewhat more regular hours. And with that had come a surprising liberation from the nighmares that he’d fallen into so frequently before.
They were still there, but far fewer, and as fas as Sil could see, he could only begrudgingly credit that to enforced sobriety and being so fucking tired at the end of a day that he was spark out within moments of his head hitting the mattress. Being an errand boy was surprisingly exhausting. Which was why, as he stood with his arms wrapped around himself to try and chase off the cold, he kept shooting looks up to the bow of the boat, where Vangelis had been for some time.
Still waiting for the man to dismiss him - because Sil had learnt the hard way that he only got to sleep when the Prince slept - he had been standing midships for what felt like hours. The sun had long ago slipped beneath the horizon, and now the diamond like constellations of Nyx’s cloak could be seen twinkling overhead. For a while, Silanos had been content stargazing, but even a pastime that conjured pleasant memories couldn’t hold his attention for too long when he was cold and hungry and tired.
And so his attention had flickered more insistently toward the shadowed figure of the Kotas prince, Sil trying to will the man into remembering he even fucking existed. He was...curious perhaps then, when Vangelis finally ceased his moody distance gazing and appeared to move to the lamp light so he could read something..a letter, for as much the Valaoritis could make out. He rolled his eyes, because really?. Vangelis couldn’t read his letters tomorrow or whatever?
He huffed and shoved his hands under his armpits to try and warm up a little, it was much cooler out on the water, with an ever present wind that breezed right through the linen of his tunic. Compared to feeling kind of sweaty and hot earlier after his overindulgence of the night before, now Sil was cold and envious of the himation that the Prince had somehow magicked out of nowhere.
His patience ran out.
Thinking he would just sidle up and remind the Crown Prince that he was still standing around like a lemon with fuck all to do for no apparent reason, Sil wasn’t being particularly careful with his footsteps. But maybe with the sough of the wind or the ever present sounds of shifting water Vangelis didn’t hear him, because when the younger man was a handful of steps away, he paused when the Kotas man suddenly moved, ripped the letter he’d been reading into shreds and dropped it into the waters below. Sil’s eyebrows lifted as he considered what kind of letter would prompt such a reaction, and he grimaced. Being in such close proximity to the Kotas family meant that he was hardly unaware of some of the drama that went on within the manor. He wasn’t privy to everything, had made some guesswork, but now he was suddenly thinking it maybe wasn't the right time to speak to the man before him.
He should have turned tail and walked back down the ship. Later, he would ask himself why the fuck he hadn’t, but in a moment of most inconvenient empathy or whatever, he didn’t know, Silanos cleared his throat, announced his presence.
“Something you didn’t want to hear?” he ventured, not looking at Vangelis but instead nodding toward the water below, which had now swallowed whatever words had so offended the Prince. “You know, if it helps, I’ve always thought Thea the most..uh..approachable of the Thanasi.”
Vangelis hadn't heard the steps of his commandeered retainer behind him. Standing at the front prow of the ship meant that soft rushing of waves below masked most of the gentle sounds of the ship. When the wood of the vessel was not cutting its way through the rolling waves, it was the sails above filling with air in a sharp snap as the wind changed its course. The softness of a single tread was lost within the full bodies echo of the sounds of seafaring.
As such, it wasn't until Silanos spoke that Vangelis recognised his presence. Not the sort to jump or be shocked at the sudden appearance of a man with a message, Vangelis only glanced over his shoulder at the Valaoritis and then pushed upon the edging of the ship so that he might rise to his full, towering height.
Silanos' initial comment queried the contents of the letter but Vangelis didn't answer. His silence wasn't a criticism of the man, nor a sign of distaste. It was simply a hesitation in him not knowing exactly how to respond.
Whilst he wouldn't have answered the man with his thoughts upon a personal topic - for it was no business of his what the letter had contained - it was natural that the mind summoned an answer regardless of whether you intended it to be spoken aloud. It was that process that stilled his tongue and ensured his silence. For the question - as innocently meant as it was - did not immediately bring to mind a conclusive answer.
Was it something that he had wanted to hear? That Selene loved him? Was this gnawing in his gut a distaste for her confession or just the timing of it? Had he received the letter a week ago... would he have felt differently about it? He had wanted rid of it. Had wanted it at the bottom of the oceans. But was that because of the sentiment it had held on its parchment... or simply the inappropriate timing of its delivery?
By the time Vangelis had come to the conclusion that there was no easy answer to the question, Silanos had continued on to fill the silence between them. His phrasing was clearly chosen with care and Vangelis offered him the rise of a single eyebrow in wry speculation. He didn't need the man to tiptoe. The situation was what it was.
But that didn't mean he was the appropriate person to comment upon it either.
"Is that so...?" He offered, his tone mild and barely that of a conversationalist. His gaze looked across the ship, taking a second to inventory all that he saw and ensure that everyone was working as they should be. He didn't altogether realise that his words could be taken as an invite to a discussion on the subject...
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Apr 25, 2020 18:07:24 GMT
Posted In 'All My Love' on Apr 25, 2020 18:07:24 GMT
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Vangelis hadn't heard the steps of his commandeered retainer behind him. Standing at the front prow of the ship meant that soft rushing of waves below masked most of the gentle sounds of the ship. When the wood of the vessel was not cutting its way through the rolling waves, it was the sails above filling with air in a sharp snap as the wind changed its course. The softness of a single tread was lost within the full bodies echo of the sounds of seafaring.
As such, it wasn't until Silanos spoke that Vangelis recognised his presence. Not the sort to jump or be shocked at the sudden appearance of a man with a message, Vangelis only glanced over his shoulder at the Valaoritis and then pushed upon the edging of the ship so that he might rise to his full, towering height.
Silanos' initial comment queried the contents of the letter but Vangelis didn't answer. His silence wasn't a criticism of the man, nor a sign of distaste. It was simply a hesitation in him not knowing exactly how to respond.
Whilst he wouldn't have answered the man with his thoughts upon a personal topic - for it was no business of his what the letter had contained - it was natural that the mind summoned an answer regardless of whether you intended it to be spoken aloud. It was that process that stilled his tongue and ensured his silence. For the question - as innocently meant as it was - did not immediately bring to mind a conclusive answer.
Was it something that he had wanted to hear? That Selene loved him? Was this gnawing in his gut a distaste for her confession or just the timing of it? Had he received the letter a week ago... would he have felt differently about it? He had wanted rid of it. Had wanted it at the bottom of the oceans. But was that because of the sentiment it had held on its parchment... or simply the inappropriate timing of its delivery?
By the time Vangelis had come to the conclusion that there was no easy answer to the question, Silanos had continued on to fill the silence between them. His phrasing was clearly chosen with care and Vangelis offered him the rise of a single eyebrow in wry speculation. He didn't need the man to tiptoe. The situation was what it was.
But that didn't mean he was the appropriate person to comment upon it either.
"Is that so...?" He offered, his tone mild and barely that of a conversationalist. His gaze looked across the ship, taking a second to inventory all that he saw and ensure that everyone was working as they should be. He didn't altogether realise that his words could be taken as an invite to a discussion on the subject...
Vangelis hadn't heard the steps of his commandeered retainer behind him. Standing at the front prow of the ship meant that soft rushing of waves below masked most of the gentle sounds of the ship. When the wood of the vessel was not cutting its way through the rolling waves, it was the sails above filling with air in a sharp snap as the wind changed its course. The softness of a single tread was lost within the full bodies echo of the sounds of seafaring.
As such, it wasn't until Silanos spoke that Vangelis recognised his presence. Not the sort to jump or be shocked at the sudden appearance of a man with a message, Vangelis only glanced over his shoulder at the Valaoritis and then pushed upon the edging of the ship so that he might rise to his full, towering height.
Silanos' initial comment queried the contents of the letter but Vangelis didn't answer. His silence wasn't a criticism of the man, nor a sign of distaste. It was simply a hesitation in him not knowing exactly how to respond.
Whilst he wouldn't have answered the man with his thoughts upon a personal topic - for it was no business of his what the letter had contained - it was natural that the mind summoned an answer regardless of whether you intended it to be spoken aloud. It was that process that stilled his tongue and ensured his silence. For the question - as innocently meant as it was - did not immediately bring to mind a conclusive answer.
Was it something that he had wanted to hear? That Selene loved him? Was this gnawing in his gut a distaste for her confession or just the timing of it? Had he received the letter a week ago... would he have felt differently about it? He had wanted rid of it. Had wanted it at the bottom of the oceans. But was that because of the sentiment it had held on its parchment... or simply the inappropriate timing of its delivery?
By the time Vangelis had come to the conclusion that there was no easy answer to the question, Silanos had continued on to fill the silence between them. His phrasing was clearly chosen with care and Vangelis offered him the rise of a single eyebrow in wry speculation. He didn't need the man to tiptoe. The situation was what it was.
But that didn't mean he was the appropriate person to comment upon it either.
"Is that so...?" He offered, his tone mild and barely that of a conversationalist. His gaze looked across the ship, taking a second to inventory all that he saw and ensure that everyone was working as they should be. He didn't altogether realise that his words could be taken as an invite to a discussion on the subject...
Silanos had begun to think better of the choice to continue speaking: his previous attempts to make conversations with the Crown Prince had been spectacularly unsuccessful for the most part. He wouldn’t usually have bothered, for it was not like the two could boast of having anything whatsoever in common, and there was the small fact that Vangelis had threatened to kill him. But forced into spending long hours in the man’s company, Silanos could not help but attempt to break the silence now and again. It was just uncomfortable and unnatural to sit there and not say anything, so he had persevered only to be met by chilly glares and, well, more silence for the most part.
Which was why the Valaoritis Lord blinked dumbly for a moment when Vangelis actually answered in something that was not a bitten off order or dismissal. He used actual words, and they almost sounded civil. Like part of a normal conversation. Swallowing down the urge to congratulate the man on such developmental leaps and bounds - because Silanos had some survival instincts - instead the younger man gave a nod and then wondered how he might elucidate on his opening gambit. Which in hindsight had possibly not been the least contentious subject for the two of them to be discussing, but hey, he’d started now.
“Well yeah, you know. I mean, Lady Nethis has that look where she would stick a knife in you soon as slip you a smile, Lord Dysius is a snake, Mihail is..Mihail.Lord Dionsyios..is probably not your favourite person I guess, so no need to elaborate there. Lady Evras is” At this, Sil shut his mouth abruptly, made a vague waving gesture with his hand whilst inwardly biting his stupid tongue off. “Well, she’s Kotas now. So what I mean is, there are worse situations to find yourself in. Romantically. Than..with Lady Thea”
[/i]Oh Gods why had he started this painful process[/i]. Silanos gave an awkward shrug to round off what was possibly the most words to have passed between the two men since the Valaoritis had come into the Kotas prince’s service, and then his gaze flickered once towards the Crown Prince before settling somewhere much safer in the inky seascape ahead. “Can only play with the cards you’ve been given” he tacked on because Sil was a great believer in not crying over spilt milk. What happened, happened and if you couldn’t change it, well you might as well think about something else.
It was an approach that had varied levels of success if he were honest, and Silanos might have had to make some slight adjustments to his world view to accommodate the fact that ignoring issues didn’t necessarily make them go away. Hence him being stood where he was, making this awkward attempt at small talk when all he’d really wanted was to be able to go to fucking bed.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Apr 26, 2020 11:52:35 GMT
Posted In 'All My Love' on Apr 26, 2020 11:52:35 GMT
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Silanos had begun to think better of the choice to continue speaking: his previous attempts to make conversations with the Crown Prince had been spectacularly unsuccessful for the most part. He wouldn’t usually have bothered, for it was not like the two could boast of having anything whatsoever in common, and there was the small fact that Vangelis had threatened to kill him. But forced into spending long hours in the man’s company, Silanos could not help but attempt to break the silence now and again. It was just uncomfortable and unnatural to sit there and not say anything, so he had persevered only to be met by chilly glares and, well, more silence for the most part.
Which was why the Valaoritis Lord blinked dumbly for a moment when Vangelis actually answered in something that was not a bitten off order or dismissal. He used actual words, and they almost sounded civil. Like part of a normal conversation. Swallowing down the urge to congratulate the man on such developmental leaps and bounds - because Silanos had some survival instincts - instead the younger man gave a nod and then wondered how he might elucidate on his opening gambit. Which in hindsight had possibly not been the least contentious subject for the two of them to be discussing, but hey, he’d started now.
“Well yeah, you know. I mean, Lady Nethis has that look where she would stick a knife in you soon as slip you a smile, Lord Dysius is a snake, Mihail is..Mihail.Lord Dionsyios..is probably not your favourite person I guess, so no need to elaborate there. Lady Evras is” At this, Sil shut his mouth abruptly, made a vague waving gesture with his hand whilst inwardly biting his stupid tongue off. “Well, she’s Kotas now. So what I mean is, there are worse situations to find yourself in. Romantically. Than..with Lady Thea”
[/i]Oh Gods why had he started this painful process[/i]. Silanos gave an awkward shrug to round off what was possibly the most words to have passed between the two men since the Valaoritis had come into the Kotas prince’s service, and then his gaze flickered once towards the Crown Prince before settling somewhere much safer in the inky seascape ahead. “Can only play with the cards you’ve been given” he tacked on because Sil was a great believer in not crying over spilt milk. What happened, happened and if you couldn’t change it, well you might as well think about something else.
It was an approach that had varied levels of success if he were honest, and Silanos might have had to make some slight adjustments to his world view to accommodate the fact that ignoring issues didn’t necessarily make them go away. Hence him being stood where he was, making this awkward attempt at small talk when all he’d really wanted was to be able to go to fucking bed.
Silanos had begun to think better of the choice to continue speaking: his previous attempts to make conversations with the Crown Prince had been spectacularly unsuccessful for the most part. He wouldn’t usually have bothered, for it was not like the two could boast of having anything whatsoever in common, and there was the small fact that Vangelis had threatened to kill him. But forced into spending long hours in the man’s company, Silanos could not help but attempt to break the silence now and again. It was just uncomfortable and unnatural to sit there and not say anything, so he had persevered only to be met by chilly glares and, well, more silence for the most part.
Which was why the Valaoritis Lord blinked dumbly for a moment when Vangelis actually answered in something that was not a bitten off order or dismissal. He used actual words, and they almost sounded civil. Like part of a normal conversation. Swallowing down the urge to congratulate the man on such developmental leaps and bounds - because Silanos had some survival instincts - instead the younger man gave a nod and then wondered how he might elucidate on his opening gambit. Which in hindsight had possibly not been the least contentious subject for the two of them to be discussing, but hey, he’d started now.
“Well yeah, you know. I mean, Lady Nethis has that look where she would stick a knife in you soon as slip you a smile, Lord Dysius is a snake, Mihail is..Mihail.Lord Dionsyios..is probably not your favourite person I guess, so no need to elaborate there. Lady Evras is” At this, Sil shut his mouth abruptly, made a vague waving gesture with his hand whilst inwardly biting his stupid tongue off. “Well, she’s Kotas now. So what I mean is, there are worse situations to find yourself in. Romantically. Than..with Lady Thea”
[/i]Oh Gods why had he started this painful process[/i]. Silanos gave an awkward shrug to round off what was possibly the most words to have passed between the two men since the Valaoritis had come into the Kotas prince’s service, and then his gaze flickered once towards the Crown Prince before settling somewhere much safer in the inky seascape ahead. “Can only play with the cards you’ve been given” he tacked on because Sil was a great believer in not crying over spilt milk. What happened, happened and if you couldn’t change it, well you might as well think about something else.
It was an approach that had varied levels of success if he were honest, and Silanos might have had to make some slight adjustments to his world view to accommodate the fact that ignoring issues didn’t necessarily make them go away. Hence him being stood where he was, making this awkward attempt at small talk when all he’d really wanted was to be able to go to fucking bed.
Vangelis watched the young man as he stumbled to make something of his previous attempts at conversation. Whilst, in Silanos's head, Vangelis was an awful talker and limited human being in his lack of interaction, it was not true to say that Vangelis was inhumane. A man unskilled in the social pleasantries of the world perhaps, he was not an individual that couldn't converse if he wanted to. He and his brothers spoke a relative amount and had almost normal sounding conversations. Even if Vangelis was the least chatty of the four of them, he partook all the same. He was a man who subscribed to the notion that if you were going to say something, you should make it worth saying.
Silanos seemed to, instead, follow the instinct of, if you say enough, you might hit upon something mildly intelligent. Unfortunately, it also saw him stumbling upon more than a few comments that were less so. Such as bringing up the Lady Evras to Vangelis.
If the man was expecting an angry rebuff or a surge of brotherly defence at the mere mention of his sister-in-law's name, however, he would be sorely mistaken. Vangelis had seen to the issue between Silanos and his female relatives, issued the punishment accordingly and was now moving on. What damage with Evras' name do upon his lips so far out at sea exactly? So, when Silanos stumbled over his words and nearly cut of his own tongue with the speed at which he shut his mouth, Vangelis allowed him to stumble alone, saying or offering nothing by way of reaction.
He also didn't bother to respond to Silanos' determination that Thea was a valid choice as a romantic partner among the Thanasi. Not sure whether to be insulted that Silanos felt the need to describe how Dionysios would be an inappropriate choice of lover, Vangelis let the absurd run down of the Dynasteia go. He wasn't about to discuss the fact that he had managed to seek out the 'best' of the Thanasi when such a description was like surmising the least deadly snake from a pile, the choice only safer because its poison killed more slowly.
When the man mentioned about playing with the cards you were dealt, Vangelis didn't feel the need to remind the man that it was a little more complicated than that for him. As the hand of cards that he possessed had to be right for not only himself, but more significantly the kingdom as a whole. Would the woman he had chosen made a good Queen? It was a more important question than whether or not she would make a good wife. Yet, it wasn't really a question anymore. Not with Thea pregnant.
His gaze looked upon the man before him, wondering if Silanos was 'playing with the cards he had been dealt' by working his way into a position of ambition through the affections of royal ladies. Or if he was simply on a path of self-destruction because he disliked the cards he held.
Turning to brace his backside against the front of the ship and fold his arms over his desk, Vangelis looked over the rest of the vessel, at the soldiers and crew. His eyes were looking away but his next words were clearly meant for the company in which he kept.
"Tell me, Silanos." He told the man quietly in the night time air. "What are you thinking upon your duties so far as my aide so far." He glanced at the Valaoritis then, to wait out an answer to an apparently unconnected subject of conversation.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Apr 27, 2020 14:01:04 GMT
Posted In 'All My Love' on Apr 27, 2020 14:01:04 GMT
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Vangelis watched the young man as he stumbled to make something of his previous attempts at conversation. Whilst, in Silanos's head, Vangelis was an awful talker and limited human being in his lack of interaction, it was not true to say that Vangelis was inhumane. A man unskilled in the social pleasantries of the world perhaps, he was not an individual that couldn't converse if he wanted to. He and his brothers spoke a relative amount and had almost normal sounding conversations. Even if Vangelis was the least chatty of the four of them, he partook all the same. He was a man who subscribed to the notion that if you were going to say something, you should make it worth saying.
Silanos seemed to, instead, follow the instinct of, if you say enough, you might hit upon something mildly intelligent. Unfortunately, it also saw him stumbling upon more than a few comments that were less so. Such as bringing up the Lady Evras to Vangelis.
If the man was expecting an angry rebuff or a surge of brotherly defence at the mere mention of his sister-in-law's name, however, he would be sorely mistaken. Vangelis had seen to the issue between Silanos and his female relatives, issued the punishment accordingly and was now moving on. What damage with Evras' name do upon his lips so far out at sea exactly? So, when Silanos stumbled over his words and nearly cut of his own tongue with the speed at which he shut his mouth, Vangelis allowed him to stumble alone, saying or offering nothing by way of reaction.
He also didn't bother to respond to Silanos' determination that Thea was a valid choice as a romantic partner among the Thanasi. Not sure whether to be insulted that Silanos felt the need to describe how Dionysios would be an inappropriate choice of lover, Vangelis let the absurd run down of the Dynasteia go. He wasn't about to discuss the fact that he had managed to seek out the 'best' of the Thanasi when such a description was like surmising the least deadly snake from a pile, the choice only safer because its poison killed more slowly.
When the man mentioned about playing with the cards you were dealt, Vangelis didn't feel the need to remind the man that it was a little more complicated than that for him. As the hand of cards that he possessed had to be right for not only himself, but more significantly the kingdom as a whole. Would the woman he had chosen made a good Queen? It was a more important question than whether or not she would make a good wife. Yet, it wasn't really a question anymore. Not with Thea pregnant.
His gaze looked upon the man before him, wondering if Silanos was 'playing with the cards he had been dealt' by working his way into a position of ambition through the affections of royal ladies. Or if he was simply on a path of self-destruction because he disliked the cards he held.
Turning to brace his backside against the front of the ship and fold his arms over his desk, Vangelis looked over the rest of the vessel, at the soldiers and crew. His eyes were looking away but his next words were clearly meant for the company in which he kept.
"Tell me, Silanos." He told the man quietly in the night time air. "What are you thinking upon your duties so far as my aide so far." He glanced at the Valaoritis then, to wait out an answer to an apparently unconnected subject of conversation.
Vangelis watched the young man as he stumbled to make something of his previous attempts at conversation. Whilst, in Silanos's head, Vangelis was an awful talker and limited human being in his lack of interaction, it was not true to say that Vangelis was inhumane. A man unskilled in the social pleasantries of the world perhaps, he was not an individual that couldn't converse if he wanted to. He and his brothers spoke a relative amount and had almost normal sounding conversations. Even if Vangelis was the least chatty of the four of them, he partook all the same. He was a man who subscribed to the notion that if you were going to say something, you should make it worth saying.
Silanos seemed to, instead, follow the instinct of, if you say enough, you might hit upon something mildly intelligent. Unfortunately, it also saw him stumbling upon more than a few comments that were less so. Such as bringing up the Lady Evras to Vangelis.
If the man was expecting an angry rebuff or a surge of brotherly defence at the mere mention of his sister-in-law's name, however, he would be sorely mistaken. Vangelis had seen to the issue between Silanos and his female relatives, issued the punishment accordingly and was now moving on. What damage with Evras' name do upon his lips so far out at sea exactly? So, when Silanos stumbled over his words and nearly cut of his own tongue with the speed at which he shut his mouth, Vangelis allowed him to stumble alone, saying or offering nothing by way of reaction.
He also didn't bother to respond to Silanos' determination that Thea was a valid choice as a romantic partner among the Thanasi. Not sure whether to be insulted that Silanos felt the need to describe how Dionysios would be an inappropriate choice of lover, Vangelis let the absurd run down of the Dynasteia go. He wasn't about to discuss the fact that he had managed to seek out the 'best' of the Thanasi when such a description was like surmising the least deadly snake from a pile, the choice only safer because its poison killed more slowly.
When the man mentioned about playing with the cards you were dealt, Vangelis didn't feel the need to remind the man that it was a little more complicated than that for him. As the hand of cards that he possessed had to be right for not only himself, but more significantly the kingdom as a whole. Would the woman he had chosen made a good Queen? It was a more important question than whether or not she would make a good wife. Yet, it wasn't really a question anymore. Not with Thea pregnant.
His gaze looked upon the man before him, wondering if Silanos was 'playing with the cards he had been dealt' by working his way into a position of ambition through the affections of royal ladies. Or if he was simply on a path of self-destruction because he disliked the cards he held.
Turning to brace his backside against the front of the ship and fold his arms over his desk, Vangelis looked over the rest of the vessel, at the soldiers and crew. His eyes were looking away but his next words were clearly meant for the company in which he kept.
"Tell me, Silanos." He told the man quietly in the night time air. "What are you thinking upon your duties so far as my aide so far." He glanced at the Valaoritis then, to wait out an answer to an apparently unconnected subject of conversation.
Silanos was not sure what was worse: the idea of being castigated for something as simple as speaking a name, or the lack of reaction and quiet observation as he manfully struggled on with the conversation despite such an unfortunate slip up. He thought, as he came to the end of his little speech, that it was perhaps the latter. Even when he finished and cast his gaze ahead of them, he could feel the weight of the man’s stare. Like what? He’d not said anything that contentious. It was like Vangelis didn’t know the rules of conversation. I talk, you talk. Or perhaps it was that Sil had the effrontery to talk at all. The Valaoritis lord rocked back on his heels in the ensuing silence, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Gooood talk
When the other man shifted, he made a concerted effort not to give in to the desire to take a step backward, instead just slanted his gaze sideways, expecting some dismissal that was the entire reason he’d even approached the man in the first instance. Instead, he got one of those awful questions that he never knew what the right answer to was.
Did Vangelis actually want to know what he thought? Or was he just reminding Silanos of his place? Sil frowned a little and bit back on the first flippant response that sat upon the end of his tongue. He had a feeling that it wouldn’t serve him well. But as his companion had so astutely observed, the younger man wasn’t given to carefully measured words, so it was Silanos’ turn to be silent as he considered what else he might say in response to such a question.
He hated the training, but it was getting a little easier every time he had to endure it? Some of the things Vangelis had made him read had actually been quite interesting but there were others that made him want to pull his own eyeballs out of his head just so he wouldn’t have to finish them? That he could swear down without doubt that whatever had happened between him and Princess Athanasia wasn’t worth this?
“I wonder if I’m actually being any use, or if this is all just to spite me” He finally said, eyes settling upon the face of the Crown Prince. And whether he didn't like what he saw there, or just wanted to clarify, he added “ I don’t mean that with any disrespect. Just, I’m not exactly a soldier and I don’t know how many meetings you need writing up or whatever when you’re in a War”
It had been what he thought was his saving grace: that he didn’t have the skills necessary to be anything but a hindrance on a battlefield, and it had come as a shock to Silanos that he was expected to go to Egypt. Unless the plan was just to let himself find his own way onto a sword after Vangelis had seemingly spared him. He gave a shrug, like he didn’t care either way. Wouldn’t do much good now they were underway. Play the cards you're dealt and all.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Apr 27, 2020 17:37:16 GMT
Posted In 'All My Love' on Apr 27, 2020 17:37:16 GMT
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Silanos was not sure what was worse: the idea of being castigated for something as simple as speaking a name, or the lack of reaction and quiet observation as he manfully struggled on with the conversation despite such an unfortunate slip up. He thought, as he came to the end of his little speech, that it was perhaps the latter. Even when he finished and cast his gaze ahead of them, he could feel the weight of the man’s stare. Like what? He’d not said anything that contentious. It was like Vangelis didn’t know the rules of conversation. I talk, you talk. Or perhaps it was that Sil had the effrontery to talk at all. The Valaoritis lord rocked back on his heels in the ensuing silence, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Gooood talk
When the other man shifted, he made a concerted effort not to give in to the desire to take a step backward, instead just slanted his gaze sideways, expecting some dismissal that was the entire reason he’d even approached the man in the first instance. Instead, he got one of those awful questions that he never knew what the right answer to was.
Did Vangelis actually want to know what he thought? Or was he just reminding Silanos of his place? Sil frowned a little and bit back on the first flippant response that sat upon the end of his tongue. He had a feeling that it wouldn’t serve him well. But as his companion had so astutely observed, the younger man wasn’t given to carefully measured words, so it was Silanos’ turn to be silent as he considered what else he might say in response to such a question.
He hated the training, but it was getting a little easier every time he had to endure it? Some of the things Vangelis had made him read had actually been quite interesting but there were others that made him want to pull his own eyeballs out of his head just so he wouldn’t have to finish them? That he could swear down without doubt that whatever had happened between him and Princess Athanasia wasn’t worth this?
“I wonder if I’m actually being any use, or if this is all just to spite me” He finally said, eyes settling upon the face of the Crown Prince. And whether he didn't like what he saw there, or just wanted to clarify, he added “ I don’t mean that with any disrespect. Just, I’m not exactly a soldier and I don’t know how many meetings you need writing up or whatever when you’re in a War”
It had been what he thought was his saving grace: that he didn’t have the skills necessary to be anything but a hindrance on a battlefield, and it had come as a shock to Silanos that he was expected to go to Egypt. Unless the plan was just to let himself find his own way onto a sword after Vangelis had seemingly spared him. He gave a shrug, like he didn’t care either way. Wouldn’t do much good now they were underway. Play the cards you're dealt and all.
Silanos was not sure what was worse: the idea of being castigated for something as simple as speaking a name, or the lack of reaction and quiet observation as he manfully struggled on with the conversation despite such an unfortunate slip up. He thought, as he came to the end of his little speech, that it was perhaps the latter. Even when he finished and cast his gaze ahead of them, he could feel the weight of the man’s stare. Like what? He’d not said anything that contentious. It was like Vangelis didn’t know the rules of conversation. I talk, you talk. Or perhaps it was that Sil had the effrontery to talk at all. The Valaoritis lord rocked back on his heels in the ensuing silence, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Gooood talk
When the other man shifted, he made a concerted effort not to give in to the desire to take a step backward, instead just slanted his gaze sideways, expecting some dismissal that was the entire reason he’d even approached the man in the first instance. Instead, he got one of those awful questions that he never knew what the right answer to was.
Did Vangelis actually want to know what he thought? Or was he just reminding Silanos of his place? Sil frowned a little and bit back on the first flippant response that sat upon the end of his tongue. He had a feeling that it wouldn’t serve him well. But as his companion had so astutely observed, the younger man wasn’t given to carefully measured words, so it was Silanos’ turn to be silent as he considered what else he might say in response to such a question.
He hated the training, but it was getting a little easier every time he had to endure it? Some of the things Vangelis had made him read had actually been quite interesting but there were others that made him want to pull his own eyeballs out of his head just so he wouldn’t have to finish them? That he could swear down without doubt that whatever had happened between him and Princess Athanasia wasn’t worth this?
“I wonder if I’m actually being any use, or if this is all just to spite me” He finally said, eyes settling upon the face of the Crown Prince. And whether he didn't like what he saw there, or just wanted to clarify, he added “ I don’t mean that with any disrespect. Just, I’m not exactly a soldier and I don’t know how many meetings you need writing up or whatever when you’re in a War”
It had been what he thought was his saving grace: that he didn’t have the skills necessary to be anything but a hindrance on a battlefield, and it had come as a shock to Silanos that he was expected to go to Egypt. Unless the plan was just to let himself find his own way onto a sword after Vangelis had seemingly spared him. He gave a shrug, like he didn’t care either way. Wouldn’t do much good now they were underway. Play the cards you're dealt and all.
For once, Vangelis answered Silanos fairly promptly. When he spoke of whether or not the duties he had been given were of use or just to spite him, the crown prince was quick with an answer. His gaze looked away from the man, dismissive in his very body language as he spoke quickly and with an authority of certainty that sounded as if it could not be denied by anyone.
"I don't waste my time with idle games of spite." He stated simply. He had not the freedom of his life to see the benefit of playing silly schemes. As a General, a baron, a Head of House and a Prince, Vangelis was a man of many responsibilities and little sleep - as Silanos would now be aware. If he thought that he held additional time on his hands to be able to personally teach Silanos a difficult lesson just because his ego had been offended then he wasn't sure whether or not he should be flattered by the man's clearly impressive image of him.
When Silanos then argued that he couldn't see how what he was doing was making a difference or doing something of use, Vangelis' stare came back to him, curious about his answer. Again, he responded quickly for he had the answer immediately.
"All of them." He stated with a simplicity that almost had one of his shoulders raising in the casual obviousness of the statement.
He waited for a moment, as if decided whether or not he would both to justify such a statement to Silanos. The man didn't need to know and Vangelis didn't need to validate himself or his orders. But the Valaoritis has asked and Vangelis wasn't opposed to explaining so the words left his lips anyway...
"How do you think I know how to fight wars, Silanos?" He asked, in a question that became rhetorical. "I read the discussions of great Generals before me. I studied their plans and their methods of leading their people. Their debates on how to fight an upcoming battle and then the results of that battle." Vangelis unfolded a hand from the coil of his arms across his chest in order to gesticulate his words a little. "We are lucky for the records that exist today that can teach us how to learn from the mistakes of our ancestors. If my discussions with my men are not written down, who will be able to learn from mine?"
Again, this question didn't seem to need an answer because Vangelis refolded his arms and then crossed his ankles, his gaze still fixed on Silanos' face.
"If the tasks I gave you were pointless... what would you care?" He asked the man. "It's my understanding that you've spent your days until now living an entirely hedonistic lifestyle. Making no difference to the world at all..." Vangelis paused for a moment. "Why does the idea that you're being of no use now suddenly cause you to be discontent?"
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Apr 27, 2020 22:26:50 GMT
Posted In 'All My Love' on Apr 27, 2020 22:26:50 GMT
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
For once, Vangelis answered Silanos fairly promptly. When he spoke of whether or not the duties he had been given were of use or just to spite him, the crown prince was quick with an answer. His gaze looked away from the man, dismissive in his very body language as he spoke quickly and with an authority of certainty that sounded as if it could not be denied by anyone.
"I don't waste my time with idle games of spite." He stated simply. He had not the freedom of his life to see the benefit of playing silly schemes. As a General, a baron, a Head of House and a Prince, Vangelis was a man of many responsibilities and little sleep - as Silanos would now be aware. If he thought that he held additional time on his hands to be able to personally teach Silanos a difficult lesson just because his ego had been offended then he wasn't sure whether or not he should be flattered by the man's clearly impressive image of him.
When Silanos then argued that he couldn't see how what he was doing was making a difference or doing something of use, Vangelis' stare came back to him, curious about his answer. Again, he responded quickly for he had the answer immediately.
"All of them." He stated with a simplicity that almost had one of his shoulders raising in the casual obviousness of the statement.
He waited for a moment, as if decided whether or not he would both to justify such a statement to Silanos. The man didn't need to know and Vangelis didn't need to validate himself or his orders. But the Valaoritis has asked and Vangelis wasn't opposed to explaining so the words left his lips anyway...
"How do you think I know how to fight wars, Silanos?" He asked, in a question that became rhetorical. "I read the discussions of great Generals before me. I studied their plans and their methods of leading their people. Their debates on how to fight an upcoming battle and then the results of that battle." Vangelis unfolded a hand from the coil of his arms across his chest in order to gesticulate his words a little. "We are lucky for the records that exist today that can teach us how to learn from the mistakes of our ancestors. If my discussions with my men are not written down, who will be able to learn from mine?"
Again, this question didn't seem to need an answer because Vangelis refolded his arms and then crossed his ankles, his gaze still fixed on Silanos' face.
"If the tasks I gave you were pointless... what would you care?" He asked the man. "It's my understanding that you've spent your days until now living an entirely hedonistic lifestyle. Making no difference to the world at all..." Vangelis paused for a moment. "Why does the idea that you're being of no use now suddenly cause you to be discontent?"
For once, Vangelis answered Silanos fairly promptly. When he spoke of whether or not the duties he had been given were of use or just to spite him, the crown prince was quick with an answer. His gaze looked away from the man, dismissive in his very body language as he spoke quickly and with an authority of certainty that sounded as if it could not be denied by anyone.
"I don't waste my time with idle games of spite." He stated simply. He had not the freedom of his life to see the benefit of playing silly schemes. As a General, a baron, a Head of House and a Prince, Vangelis was a man of many responsibilities and little sleep - as Silanos would now be aware. If he thought that he held additional time on his hands to be able to personally teach Silanos a difficult lesson just because his ego had been offended then he wasn't sure whether or not he should be flattered by the man's clearly impressive image of him.
When Silanos then argued that he couldn't see how what he was doing was making a difference or doing something of use, Vangelis' stare came back to him, curious about his answer. Again, he responded quickly for he had the answer immediately.
"All of them." He stated with a simplicity that almost had one of his shoulders raising in the casual obviousness of the statement.
He waited for a moment, as if decided whether or not he would both to justify such a statement to Silanos. The man didn't need to know and Vangelis didn't need to validate himself or his orders. But the Valaoritis has asked and Vangelis wasn't opposed to explaining so the words left his lips anyway...
"How do you think I know how to fight wars, Silanos?" He asked, in a question that became rhetorical. "I read the discussions of great Generals before me. I studied their plans and their methods of leading their people. Their debates on how to fight an upcoming battle and then the results of that battle." Vangelis unfolded a hand from the coil of his arms across his chest in order to gesticulate his words a little. "We are lucky for the records that exist today that can teach us how to learn from the mistakes of our ancestors. If my discussions with my men are not written down, who will be able to learn from mine?"
Again, this question didn't seem to need an answer because Vangelis refolded his arms and then crossed his ankles, his gaze still fixed on Silanos' face.
"If the tasks I gave you were pointless... what would you care?" He asked the man. "It's my understanding that you've spent your days until now living an entirely hedonistic lifestyle. Making no difference to the world at all..." Vangelis paused for a moment. "Why does the idea that you're being of no use now suddenly cause you to be discontent?"
‘I don’t waste my time with idle games of spite’ The answer came almost immediately, and Silanos wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be sorry for suggesting it or what. It certainly felt a little spiteful, dragging him off to this war when Gods knows he had not even half the skills of the soldiers under Vangelis’ command. He tried to keep his expression neutral but it was hard as he gave his justification, and Sil met the stare from the other man. Let him explain it then, if he was so far above being petty and spiteful.
Oh
Because Vangelis did explain, and in a way that left the Valaoritis lord feeling like he’d been an idiot not to have understood that already. Indeed, he’d been expected to read some of those accounts himself, he just hadn’t ever factored in that there had been some poor sap like him writing them down in the first instance. Huh. Suddenly, it was difficult to feel quite so hard done to as he had been, and the younger man looked away, caught his cheek between his teeth and chewed on it a little as he let that settle.He tried to reimagine what this war might look like for him, where he fit. If he’d had a chance, if there hadn't been a lingering discontent between them still, Silanos could have asked Timaeus and not gone into this feeling so ill-equipped. But then that was one of those things that had happened and that he couldn’t change now.
Feeling Vangelis’ gaze still upon him, Sil looked up just as the Kotas man spoke once more, and he frowned at first at the suggestion he shouldn’t care if he was just wasting his fucking time here, but as the prince went on he realised the point the man was making.
Right.
Staring back at Vangelis for a second and he opened his mouth like he was going to speak and then shut it again because annoyingly, he didn’t have an answer for that straight away. It was just [i[different[/i]. It was Silanos who looked away first, letting out a little huff of a laugh because he’d walked right into that one, and didn’t much care for being cornered by his own words. Fucking irritating. Making no difference to the world at all…..it sounded worryingly like the content from one of Tim’s lectures and Sil wondered why these people had a problem with people having fun.
“Maybe because I was enjoying myself then” he answered after a moment, a touch defensively “If I’m going to be fuc..if I’m going to be miserable, there might as well be someone benefiting from it, because it isn’t me”
But as arguments went, it wasn’t his finest effort. Perhaps because though he didn’t much want to admit it, that hangover had reminded him how grim he’d felt waking up most days, that had been his norm. He hadn’t felt like that for going on a month now, and maybe he didn’t miss that. And if he was clearer-headed because he’d slept more...
Well whatever, it didn’t matter.
Silanos didn’t even know how the conversation had switched round to scrutinizing his life choices. He wasn’t the one staring out to sea like some sombre statue and tearing up letters. His mouth carried on moving. “And, there isn’t anything wrong with enjoying yourself you know? The Gods don’t frown upon it. It's not a waste of time. There is life outside of duty, and maybe sometimes it would make you happier to try it, your highness”
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Apr 28, 2020 11:56:12 GMT
Posted In 'All My Love' on Apr 28, 2020 11:56:12 GMT
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
‘I don’t waste my time with idle games of spite’ The answer came almost immediately, and Silanos wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be sorry for suggesting it or what. It certainly felt a little spiteful, dragging him off to this war when Gods knows he had not even half the skills of the soldiers under Vangelis’ command. He tried to keep his expression neutral but it was hard as he gave his justification, and Sil met the stare from the other man. Let him explain it then, if he was so far above being petty and spiteful.
Oh
Because Vangelis did explain, and in a way that left the Valaoritis lord feeling like he’d been an idiot not to have understood that already. Indeed, he’d been expected to read some of those accounts himself, he just hadn’t ever factored in that there had been some poor sap like him writing them down in the first instance. Huh. Suddenly, it was difficult to feel quite so hard done to as he had been, and the younger man looked away, caught his cheek between his teeth and chewed on it a little as he let that settle.He tried to reimagine what this war might look like for him, where he fit. If he’d had a chance, if there hadn't been a lingering discontent between them still, Silanos could have asked Timaeus and not gone into this feeling so ill-equipped. But then that was one of those things that had happened and that he couldn’t change now.
Feeling Vangelis’ gaze still upon him, Sil looked up just as the Kotas man spoke once more, and he frowned at first at the suggestion he shouldn’t care if he was just wasting his fucking time here, but as the prince went on he realised the point the man was making.
Right.
Staring back at Vangelis for a second and he opened his mouth like he was going to speak and then shut it again because annoyingly, he didn’t have an answer for that straight away. It was just [i[different[/i]. It was Silanos who looked away first, letting out a little huff of a laugh because he’d walked right into that one, and didn’t much care for being cornered by his own words. Fucking irritating. Making no difference to the world at all…..it sounded worryingly like the content from one of Tim’s lectures and Sil wondered why these people had a problem with people having fun.
“Maybe because I was enjoying myself then” he answered after a moment, a touch defensively “If I’m going to be fuc..if I’m going to be miserable, there might as well be someone benefiting from it, because it isn’t me”
But as arguments went, it wasn’t his finest effort. Perhaps because though he didn’t much want to admit it, that hangover had reminded him how grim he’d felt waking up most days, that had been his norm. He hadn’t felt like that for going on a month now, and maybe he didn’t miss that. And if he was clearer-headed because he’d slept more...
Well whatever, it didn’t matter.
Silanos didn’t even know how the conversation had switched round to scrutinizing his life choices. He wasn’t the one staring out to sea like some sombre statue and tearing up letters. His mouth carried on moving. “And, there isn’t anything wrong with enjoying yourself you know? The Gods don’t frown upon it. It's not a waste of time. There is life outside of duty, and maybe sometimes it would make you happier to try it, your highness”
‘I don’t waste my time with idle games of spite’ The answer came almost immediately, and Silanos wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be sorry for suggesting it or what. It certainly felt a little spiteful, dragging him off to this war when Gods knows he had not even half the skills of the soldiers under Vangelis’ command. He tried to keep his expression neutral but it was hard as he gave his justification, and Sil met the stare from the other man. Let him explain it then, if he was so far above being petty and spiteful.
Oh
Because Vangelis did explain, and in a way that left the Valaoritis lord feeling like he’d been an idiot not to have understood that already. Indeed, he’d been expected to read some of those accounts himself, he just hadn’t ever factored in that there had been some poor sap like him writing them down in the first instance. Huh. Suddenly, it was difficult to feel quite so hard done to as he had been, and the younger man looked away, caught his cheek between his teeth and chewed on it a little as he let that settle.He tried to reimagine what this war might look like for him, where he fit. If he’d had a chance, if there hadn't been a lingering discontent between them still, Silanos could have asked Timaeus and not gone into this feeling so ill-equipped. But then that was one of those things that had happened and that he couldn’t change now.
Feeling Vangelis’ gaze still upon him, Sil looked up just as the Kotas man spoke once more, and he frowned at first at the suggestion he shouldn’t care if he was just wasting his fucking time here, but as the prince went on he realised the point the man was making.
Right.
Staring back at Vangelis for a second and he opened his mouth like he was going to speak and then shut it again because annoyingly, he didn’t have an answer for that straight away. It was just [i[different[/i]. It was Silanos who looked away first, letting out a little huff of a laugh because he’d walked right into that one, and didn’t much care for being cornered by his own words. Fucking irritating. Making no difference to the world at all…..it sounded worryingly like the content from one of Tim’s lectures and Sil wondered why these people had a problem with people having fun.
“Maybe because I was enjoying myself then” he answered after a moment, a touch defensively “If I’m going to be fuc..if I’m going to be miserable, there might as well be someone benefiting from it, because it isn’t me”
But as arguments went, it wasn’t his finest effort. Perhaps because though he didn’t much want to admit it, that hangover had reminded him how grim he’d felt waking up most days, that had been his norm. He hadn’t felt like that for going on a month now, and maybe he didn’t miss that. And if he was clearer-headed because he’d slept more...
Well whatever, it didn’t matter.
Silanos didn’t even know how the conversation had switched round to scrutinizing his life choices. He wasn’t the one staring out to sea like some sombre statue and tearing up letters. His mouth carried on moving. “And, there isn’t anything wrong with enjoying yourself you know? The Gods don’t frown upon it. It's not a waste of time. There is life outside of duty, and maybe sometimes it would make you happier to try it, your highness”
Vangelis watched Silanos' expression. He wasn't some bleeding heart philanthropist who reached out to every man who lost his way and found some kind of training programme to bring them to the light. He wasn't naive enough to believe that he could mend the world. But the House of Valaoritis had been loyal to the Dynasteia of Kotas for a long time. And he considered it a personal honour to return that loyalty with at least the circumstances that he could personally build. He had the ability to provide Silanos with a chance. He could form the walls, the boundaries and the rules and had the authority to see that he carried through with them. If he chose not to notice how his life could be better, hold more value and stop sending him down paths that got him into trouble, then that wasn't Vangelis' mistake to cry over. The man was his own and had his own mind. And Vangelis had done all the duty he was prepared to do.
Which was why he wasn't someone who was hankering on about Silanos' life view or trying to impress some lessons of dignity or morality onto him every second of every day. He provided a role as his aide and he expected it to be done to the highest of standards - as he expected from all those who worked for him. He wasn't some translator walking at Silanos' side to show him what such a duty could teach him. That was for him to see himself.
When the boy spoke of him enjoying himself and how doing something unproductive was only acceptable if he got joy out of it, Vangelis gave no response. He wondered about telling him of the six men that he had reported in Nike's unit who had had weak spots in their armour. Men who now had replacements for those pieces. Men who might have been killed by particular blows in the upcoming battles that would now be able to be deflected. That six men might owe their lives to a single morning of effort from him. He wondered if Silanos would consider that to be a waste of his time.
But he wasn't here to blow sunshine up the man's backside or make him feel good about himself. Because, to a certain extent, Silanos was right - this wasn't intended to be a path to a more honourable life that had an easy means of travel. It was supposed to be dissatisfying and hard. It was supposed to be a punishment. And there was a part of Vangelis - the brotherly part - that did take the smallest of satisfactions in seeing the man unhappy. Because it was that part of him that believed Silanos to deserve it.
But that didn't mean that every second of every day had to be sadistic on the man.
And when Silanos mentioned the advantages of doing what made you happy, what you enjoyed, and how Vangelis might benefit from it on occasion, Vangelis surprised all present - including himself - and actually guffawed something between a cough and a laugh. His hand came up to rub at the half smile on his face, as if the feeling of it had become unfamiliar over the last week or so.
"In case you missed it, my recent attempt of enjoying myself has not led to much happiness in my household, but I'll take that under advisement, Silanos." And with an acceptance that this was perhaps where the conversation should end on that particular subject, Vangelis unfurled an arm from the fold across his chest once more and gestured down towards the ship. "Go and sleep." He told the man. "I'll expect you up an hour before dawn."
And effectively dismissing the man from his consideration, Vangelis turned around and turned to his brooding stance at the prow of the vessel, his eyes fixed on the horizon and any sign of mirth now lost from his face.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Apr 28, 2020 20:20:23 GMT
Posted In 'All My Love' on Apr 28, 2020 20:20:23 GMT
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Vangelis watched Silanos' expression. He wasn't some bleeding heart philanthropist who reached out to every man who lost his way and found some kind of training programme to bring them to the light. He wasn't naive enough to believe that he could mend the world. But the House of Valaoritis had been loyal to the Dynasteia of Kotas for a long time. And he considered it a personal honour to return that loyalty with at least the circumstances that he could personally build. He had the ability to provide Silanos with a chance. He could form the walls, the boundaries and the rules and had the authority to see that he carried through with them. If he chose not to notice how his life could be better, hold more value and stop sending him down paths that got him into trouble, then that wasn't Vangelis' mistake to cry over. The man was his own and had his own mind. And Vangelis had done all the duty he was prepared to do.
Which was why he wasn't someone who was hankering on about Silanos' life view or trying to impress some lessons of dignity or morality onto him every second of every day. He provided a role as his aide and he expected it to be done to the highest of standards - as he expected from all those who worked for him. He wasn't some translator walking at Silanos' side to show him what such a duty could teach him. That was for him to see himself.
When the boy spoke of him enjoying himself and how doing something unproductive was only acceptable if he got joy out of it, Vangelis gave no response. He wondered about telling him of the six men that he had reported in Nike's unit who had had weak spots in their armour. Men who now had replacements for those pieces. Men who might have been killed by particular blows in the upcoming battles that would now be able to be deflected. That six men might owe their lives to a single morning of effort from him. He wondered if Silanos would consider that to be a waste of his time.
But he wasn't here to blow sunshine up the man's backside or make him feel good about himself. Because, to a certain extent, Silanos was right - this wasn't intended to be a path to a more honourable life that had an easy means of travel. It was supposed to be dissatisfying and hard. It was supposed to be a punishment. And there was a part of Vangelis - the brotherly part - that did take the smallest of satisfactions in seeing the man unhappy. Because it was that part of him that believed Silanos to deserve it.
But that didn't mean that every second of every day had to be sadistic on the man.
And when Silanos mentioned the advantages of doing what made you happy, what you enjoyed, and how Vangelis might benefit from it on occasion, Vangelis surprised all present - including himself - and actually guffawed something between a cough and a laugh. His hand came up to rub at the half smile on his face, as if the feeling of it had become unfamiliar over the last week or so.
"In case you missed it, my recent attempt of enjoying myself has not led to much happiness in my household, but I'll take that under advisement, Silanos." And with an acceptance that this was perhaps where the conversation should end on that particular subject, Vangelis unfurled an arm from the fold across his chest once more and gestured down towards the ship. "Go and sleep." He told the man. "I'll expect you up an hour before dawn."
And effectively dismissing the man from his consideration, Vangelis turned around and turned to his brooding stance at the prow of the vessel, his eyes fixed on the horizon and any sign of mirth now lost from his face.
Vangelis watched Silanos' expression. He wasn't some bleeding heart philanthropist who reached out to every man who lost his way and found some kind of training programme to bring them to the light. He wasn't naive enough to believe that he could mend the world. But the House of Valaoritis had been loyal to the Dynasteia of Kotas for a long time. And he considered it a personal honour to return that loyalty with at least the circumstances that he could personally build. He had the ability to provide Silanos with a chance. He could form the walls, the boundaries and the rules and had the authority to see that he carried through with them. If he chose not to notice how his life could be better, hold more value and stop sending him down paths that got him into trouble, then that wasn't Vangelis' mistake to cry over. The man was his own and had his own mind. And Vangelis had done all the duty he was prepared to do.
Which was why he wasn't someone who was hankering on about Silanos' life view or trying to impress some lessons of dignity or morality onto him every second of every day. He provided a role as his aide and he expected it to be done to the highest of standards - as he expected from all those who worked for him. He wasn't some translator walking at Silanos' side to show him what such a duty could teach him. That was for him to see himself.
When the boy spoke of him enjoying himself and how doing something unproductive was only acceptable if he got joy out of it, Vangelis gave no response. He wondered about telling him of the six men that he had reported in Nike's unit who had had weak spots in their armour. Men who now had replacements for those pieces. Men who might have been killed by particular blows in the upcoming battles that would now be able to be deflected. That six men might owe their lives to a single morning of effort from him. He wondered if Silanos would consider that to be a waste of his time.
But he wasn't here to blow sunshine up the man's backside or make him feel good about himself. Because, to a certain extent, Silanos was right - this wasn't intended to be a path to a more honourable life that had an easy means of travel. It was supposed to be dissatisfying and hard. It was supposed to be a punishment. And there was a part of Vangelis - the brotherly part - that did take the smallest of satisfactions in seeing the man unhappy. Because it was that part of him that believed Silanos to deserve it.
But that didn't mean that every second of every day had to be sadistic on the man.
And when Silanos mentioned the advantages of doing what made you happy, what you enjoyed, and how Vangelis might benefit from it on occasion, Vangelis surprised all present - including himself - and actually guffawed something between a cough and a laugh. His hand came up to rub at the half smile on his face, as if the feeling of it had become unfamiliar over the last week or so.
"In case you missed it, my recent attempt of enjoying myself has not led to much happiness in my household, but I'll take that under advisement, Silanos." And with an acceptance that this was perhaps where the conversation should end on that particular subject, Vangelis unfurled an arm from the fold across his chest once more and gestured down towards the ship. "Go and sleep." He told the man. "I'll expect you up an hour before dawn."
And effectively dismissing the man from his consideration, Vangelis turned around and turned to his brooding stance at the prow of the vessel, his eyes fixed on the horizon and any sign of mirth now lost from his face.
The half-laugh or whatever it was almost startled Sil, and he turned his head, his expression settling somewhere between shock and approval at such a...well..normal reaction. The Kotas man was always so rigid and stoic, or at least had been in front of Silanos, even when holding a blade at his chest.There was almost a sense of satisfaction in seeing him exhibit a reaction more akin to one Sil might imagine from himself. Or maybe it was disconcerting, he didn’t know.
Lifting his eyebrows and balling his lips to ensure he didn’t add any comment to the prince’s words - even though there were so many things he could have said - Silanos couldn’t prevent the little shrug. He of all people knew what it was like to be the one causing family strife, and though he was sure that the man before him wouldn’t be so quick to draw parallels between them, to Sil, it made Vangelis that little bit more human. And whilst a small, snide part of him might have pointed out that perhaps the Prince didn't hold so much of the moral high ground, he swallowed it, because when it came down to it, their difference in station was enough to allow Vangelis to make judgements on Sil, but not the other way round. At least, not outloud.
When the other man motioned for him to go, the Valaoritis followed the gesture downship with his eyes, remembering that was why he’d even approached the prince in the first place. “Right, yeah” he answered, glancing up at the sky and trying to get a gauge on how long til dawn, before he looked again at the Kotas man. Somehow, Sil didn’t think he’d be sending himself to bed anytime soon. He’d never come across a person who could stay up longer than him, but stripped of opium and wine and all of the other things he’d used to avoid it, the Valaoritis was shocked out how quickly exhaustion caught up with him. He didn’t know how the prince kept going. “Until tomorrow then” Sil said, before ducking into a bow and making his retreat.
He had thought that he’d fall quickly into sleep, but despite the tiredness that made his eyes heavy and limbs weary, the young lord found his mind less easy to silence. He wanted to hold on to the discontent at being here, because it was something else to focus on other than what lay ahead, but that was more difficult if he couldn’t put it down to just a wish to make him miserable. And why was he bothered? He was just playing the shit hand of cards he’d been dealt, wasn’t he? Sil fell into an uneasy sleep with such questions still circling his mind.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Apr 29, 2020 11:24:17 GMT
Posted In 'All My Love' on Apr 29, 2020 11:24:17 GMT
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
The half-laugh or whatever it was almost startled Sil, and he turned his head, his expression settling somewhere between shock and approval at such a...well..normal reaction. The Kotas man was always so rigid and stoic, or at least had been in front of Silanos, even when holding a blade at his chest.There was almost a sense of satisfaction in seeing him exhibit a reaction more akin to one Sil might imagine from himself. Or maybe it was disconcerting, he didn’t know.
Lifting his eyebrows and balling his lips to ensure he didn’t add any comment to the prince’s words - even though there were so many things he could have said - Silanos couldn’t prevent the little shrug. He of all people knew what it was like to be the one causing family strife, and though he was sure that the man before him wouldn’t be so quick to draw parallels between them, to Sil, it made Vangelis that little bit more human. And whilst a small, snide part of him might have pointed out that perhaps the Prince didn't hold so much of the moral high ground, he swallowed it, because when it came down to it, their difference in station was enough to allow Vangelis to make judgements on Sil, but not the other way round. At least, not outloud.
When the other man motioned for him to go, the Valaoritis followed the gesture downship with his eyes, remembering that was why he’d even approached the prince in the first place. “Right, yeah” he answered, glancing up at the sky and trying to get a gauge on how long til dawn, before he looked again at the Kotas man. Somehow, Sil didn’t think he’d be sending himself to bed anytime soon. He’d never come across a person who could stay up longer than him, but stripped of opium and wine and all of the other things he’d used to avoid it, the Valaoritis was shocked out how quickly exhaustion caught up with him. He didn’t know how the prince kept going. “Until tomorrow then” Sil said, before ducking into a bow and making his retreat.
He had thought that he’d fall quickly into sleep, but despite the tiredness that made his eyes heavy and limbs weary, the young lord found his mind less easy to silence. He wanted to hold on to the discontent at being here, because it was something else to focus on other than what lay ahead, but that was more difficult if he couldn’t put it down to just a wish to make him miserable. And why was he bothered? He was just playing the shit hand of cards he’d been dealt, wasn’t he? Sil fell into an uneasy sleep with such questions still circling his mind.
The half-laugh or whatever it was almost startled Sil, and he turned his head, his expression settling somewhere between shock and approval at such a...well..normal reaction. The Kotas man was always so rigid and stoic, or at least had been in front of Silanos, even when holding a blade at his chest.There was almost a sense of satisfaction in seeing him exhibit a reaction more akin to one Sil might imagine from himself. Or maybe it was disconcerting, he didn’t know.
Lifting his eyebrows and balling his lips to ensure he didn’t add any comment to the prince’s words - even though there were so many things he could have said - Silanos couldn’t prevent the little shrug. He of all people knew what it was like to be the one causing family strife, and though he was sure that the man before him wouldn’t be so quick to draw parallels between them, to Sil, it made Vangelis that little bit more human. And whilst a small, snide part of him might have pointed out that perhaps the Prince didn't hold so much of the moral high ground, he swallowed it, because when it came down to it, their difference in station was enough to allow Vangelis to make judgements on Sil, but not the other way round. At least, not outloud.
When the other man motioned for him to go, the Valaoritis followed the gesture downship with his eyes, remembering that was why he’d even approached the prince in the first place. “Right, yeah” he answered, glancing up at the sky and trying to get a gauge on how long til dawn, before he looked again at the Kotas man. Somehow, Sil didn’t think he’d be sending himself to bed anytime soon. He’d never come across a person who could stay up longer than him, but stripped of opium and wine and all of the other things he’d used to avoid it, the Valaoritis was shocked out how quickly exhaustion caught up with him. He didn’t know how the prince kept going. “Until tomorrow then” Sil said, before ducking into a bow and making his retreat.
He had thought that he’d fall quickly into sleep, but despite the tiredness that made his eyes heavy and limbs weary, the young lord found his mind less easy to silence. He wanted to hold on to the discontent at being here, because it was something else to focus on other than what lay ahead, but that was more difficult if he couldn’t put it down to just a wish to make him miserable. And why was he bothered? He was just playing the shit hand of cards he’d been dealt, wasn’t he? Sil fell into an uneasy sleep with such questions still circling his mind.