imatreenow | six [action/voice]

[A peaceful melody played on a panpipe can be heard through the journal, or by anyone who happens to be passing by House 52 this afternoon. Veteran residents may recognize this particular tune as one that Martel played on occassion during her stay in Luceti, but to Mithos it is simply the song his sister would play to comfort him all those many, many years ago. Even now, it remains a source of comfort, one of the ways in which he can remember Martel. He can feel her presence beside him as he sits beneath a tree at the edge of the woods behind the house. Outside, despite the chill. Martel's music was never meant to be contained by walls, just as her soul and his memories of her were never meant to be contained by death.

Recieving his sister's panpipe (yes, the very same one, even though it had been broken when last seen) has been the first good thing to happen in quite some time. It is like a reminder not to give up -- Martel still needs him.

Mithos is entirely unaware that the journal is recording him, thus replies to any voice responses (or written responses) will occur last chronologically. Just for clarification.]

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[Oh. Is that so.]

So?

[Oh you did not just--]

Martel was killed because humans refused to accept us. Do you think I could accept that? Do you think I stood back and did nothing for my sister?

Of course not. But am I meant to feel sympathy for you? Even I, who has lost everything before would not do such a thing. Whining about your own wretched circumstances is nothing short of futile. [That's all said coolly. But then he considers something. If this one's will is so strong...]

However... if you are so wronged by the intolerance of others, your own intolerance is a grand farce indeed.

My sister is everything to me. I'm not whining, and I neither want nor need your sympathy. [Decide for yourself how much truth that holds.] What I want is for you humans to realize what your foolishness destroys, and suffer in your guilt.

Martel and I did nothing to earn such hatred. Humans have done plenty to justify my hatred of them.

What guilt should "we" have for the actions of other humans? Such a concept is childlike - the world is not so "fair" as that.

[His voice takes on a more distant tone.] The world isn't fair, but why should it not be? That's what Martel and I wanted: to create a world free from discrimination, one in which all are the same race. Without differences, there is no discrimination.

That's naive. Even with all being the same race there at differences of class or status to consider. The world will never be so just.

[Sorry, Mithos is surrounded by an invisible logic-repelling wall.]

You may accept that, but I will never resign myself to a world that tramples on me.

Only a fool believes they might change the nature of the world, Yggdrasill. [That's said lightly. He's not resigning himself to any fate]

It is far more foolish to give up when Martel is still counting on me. [Hypocritical, considering he did give up. He gave up on finding a way to save both the world and his sister, diverting all his efforts to just Martel.]

And so you are tethered to what is already lost? [Sigh, how ridiculous]

I will never abandon my sister. She is not lost; nobody is, in this world where even death is not permanent.

Edited 2011-01-19 23:47 (UTC)

[Oh.

Oh that is-] You would hold faith in the random and inane workings of this world? I knew you to be foolish, idealistic perhaps, Yggdrasill, but this level of witlessness outdoes all of my expectations.

[Ciel has just hit upon what it is that frustrates Mithos so much. He can't do anything besides wait: wait for the Cruxis Crystal to turn up, wait for Martel to arrive. He's so powerless in this world, but he can't give up. Under pressure - the weight of so many obstacles stacking up - it doesn't take long for someone to snap, especially if they've already snapped countless times before. Now imagine the whistle a kettle makes when its contents reach boiling point.]

Shut up! Just shut up! As if I would ever turn back and accept anything as it is! What do you understand about me or Martel? [Urge to beat Ciel senseless: maximum capacity]

As I have said, I see no need to understand a fool who would whine about his "misfortunes," only to be indignant about a situation in which he is helpless. Can you do nothing but complain? If you will no accept it, Yggdrasill, do feel free to show me some results in future.

[Hah. He shifts his position and-]

Good day.

[Book, shut]

[Book, violently flung in lieu of throttling Ciel.

He wanted the last word, you miserable dog.]

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