Mmn~ If it bothered you, you wouldn’t have stuck around so long~*nuzzles in close*
Or perhaps I’m just suffering from Stockholm syndrome. [Laughs quietly and cuddles the other.] Warming up yet?
“I want everybody I meet to remember me. Inside people’s memories, I can live forever.”
"No, you are not", Firion answered with a tired smile and a shake of his head. "I would never tell anyone to go to war. It is horrible and I do not want anyone to suffer the losses a war brings. What I meant to tell you though was that I took matters into my own hands - and in the end we won."
"But we’re different people and this is a different time and place," Isa retorted. He threaded a hand through his hair, unsure of what to do about the situation. "You’ve told me to be careful but also to take matters into my own hands. Those aren’t particularly synonymous things. I doubt I could achieve both."
So cuddle me until I’m warm!
Demanding as ever, I see. [Draws the other into his arms anyway because, hey, he’s cold too.]
Yes, well, as are yours. I’m Isa.
What an interesting name you’ve got there. Mayhap you tell me where exactly I am?
I believe it’s good manners to give your own name when requesting another’s. And you’re in Radiant Garden.
Almost his age from back then…
"I was eighteen when my siblings and I fought in a war to regain our freedom and our home that were taken from us."
He gave a short laugh of disbelief. He’d been unsure as to what Firion was leading towards with his questioning, but he certainly hadn’t imagined that it would be this.
"I—I’m not a soldier. Never have been, probably never will be."
Tilting his head he looked at Isa, taking in his appeareance once more. They boy’s stature wasn’t too impressive, that of a teen, yet his eyes looked older.
"How old are you?"
Isa opened his mouth to respond and then paused momentarily, surprised by the unexpected question. He squared his shoulders and raised his chin, meeting Firion’s gaze.
Firion snorted and shook his head before he quickly apologized for his derogatory reaction. “Forgive me. It simply angers me when people believe that things are ‘beyond their control’ as you say. Even more so, because they are right: If you do not take control of the situation yourself then it will always be too big for you.”
Isa’s brows furrowed and he regarded Firion with a curious gaze. Shrugging the other’s hand off his shoulder, he asked, “So how exactly am I supposed to ‘take control’ of this? I’d hate to be the pessimist here, but it’s hardly an easy situation to resolve.”
*latches onto* Isaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. It’s cooooooooooooooold!!!
Yes, I had noticed.
You know what else it’d provide? Hypothermia. ‘Cause it’d be cold as shit, dude.
What a creative simile.
Yes, well, as are yours. I’m Isa.
The rebel furrowed his brows, then nodded in silent affirmation though. “If that is what you wish, I will not interfere. It still bothers me though…”
He put a hand onto Isa’s shoulder. “Be careful when going after them. You should not get hurt. No-one should get hurt.”
Isa’s lips curved in a small smile, though it was not one of happiness, but more bitter than that. “I do agree with you but there’s often not much you can do to rectify the situation. This isn’t an ideal world; sometimes you just have to accept when things are beyond your control. Besides, I doubt there are many ways this could end well.”
'Cause snow'd make things any better…how?
It would at least provide some entertainment.—building snowmen, snowball fights. that sort of thing.