[For a moment, Liem looks at the red-eyed young man in surprise, his gaze now quietly assessing. As the youth’s tense manner and vengeful wish also suggested, his questions indicate to Liem that the life he was taken from was a hard and possibly even cruel one. He has the air of someone who was forced to grow up quickly, despite his obvious youth.]
You do have a point. All power can be taken, of course, but it is easier to lose that which you don’t fully control.
[Liem is content that his own power comes not from him, but from Abadar’s grace, just as he is content to be Abadar’s servant in the material plane. His mastery of that power will continue until he no longer has the desire or the ability to wield it in his patron’s name. But would he be pleased to wield the power of some unnamed entity with unknown ends? No, perhaps not.
It hardly matters. He is not in the habit of wishing for things to be given to him, like coins tossed to a beggar. Abadar only shows his followers the way; he expects them to carry themselves.]
Truthfully, I would not expect a wish you give to a candle to grant itself. I would think of such a thing more as a resolution: one that might help you to find the path to where you wish to be.
( makoto is a dangerously open book. this is a quality which had recently been exacerbated by his relocation from earth into hell, as he had been quite accomplished at keeping all pertinent information about himself kept close to the chest when living as a human—the circumstances he had been living in, and the hands that he had been living by, had been so extreme and trying that the force of emotion he experienced punched its way through the stony reserve he had developed as a human and took permanent residence in his nerves, working their way into his expression and demeanor. in hell, someone with this sort of mien would never make it far. deceit, obfuscation, and manipulation were the laws that governed it; one who made their heart obvious to others would always find themself used by them.
this is a realization makoto would have and learn from—the hard way—several years from now. as he stands here and now before liem, however, he is still as raw and vulnerable as an open wound. from this openness, everything he guesses about the young man from what he can observe in him is entirely accurate.
he nods, frowning. it doesn’t solidify his decision in asking for power rather than vengeance. power roughly given to someone wouldn’t be fully understood or perfectly controlled, would it? it feels like wishing for such a thing would just be foolishly manifesting a weapon into his own hands that someone like J could take to use against him. or, you know, just take from him and then mock him for reaching for in the first place…
he’s not the type of person who would well understand liem’s faith—his own thoughts on the subject are complicated and profoundly negative. any power one receives from another isn’t theirs at all, in his opinion, especially if it’s contingent on that patron’s judgment of their envoy’s morality (but, again, makoto is heavily biased in this). )
N-No, but… (you never know. he hadn’t expected the summoning circle he’d found in an old, dusty book on the esoteric and the occult to actually summon a demon—though he’d hoped it would. and when it actually had…
he turns towards liem at the suggestion. his brow creases for just a moment, but then his expression resolves, thoughtful. ) You’re right. Um… Okay. I think I have an idea.
( he takes the crumpled wish in his hand and discards it, instead finding another scrap of paper to write on. he doesn’t particularly try to hide it from liem, if he either wants to peek or respect makoto’s privacy; it reads: “I want to learn what I need to in order to be free.” and yet, as he writes it, he wonders exactly what it is he means. to be free from J? from hell? from the shackles of an eternal life he didn’t ask for? he isn’t sure… he just thinks that he most wants to be able to make decisions for himself again.
he folds it carefully. he doesn’t burn it yet, though, instead looking to liem with earnestness burning in his oddly metallic eyes. ) …Thank you.
[The resolution that finds its way into Makoto’s expression warms Liem’s regard, just a little. He has had far less opportunity to give support and advice than he would have liked, especially to any good effect, so the chance to help a young man in even a small way is still a pleasure. Whether or not the young man’s wish bears fruit, the burdens weighing on him seem to have lightened at least a little.
He watches the Makoto fetch a new piece of paper to write upon, but when he begins to write, Liem turns his eyes away. Instead he finds a slip of paper and a pen for himself, though he simply rests them on the table for now. He needs another moment to contemplate his own wish.
He knows where he needs to be; it’s just where he wishes to be that is in conflict. Really, he wishes he could be free to go where he’d like, and still be able to fulfill his duties as well. He just doesn’t know if such a thing is possible, given how far he wants to range.
But he still has a modest smile for the boy next to him when he speaks up again. Close-mouthed, of course, by force of habit.]
It was my pleasure. I hope your journey treats you well, young man, and you get where you want to be.
( gnawing doubts, makoto’s constant bedfellows, hound him. it’s not specific enough, they decry, needling him for more specificity; it doesn’t have enough teeth. if this were another contract that he was forming with a demon, something signed with one’s christened name in the crimson of their blood, he would have given more consideration to the wording, to the vagueness, to how it might be interpreted. but this is a scrap of paper to be burnt to smoke and ash, leaving nothing behind to bind him body and soul. he hopes that it’s fine as it is, that it will be interpreted in a way that he doesn’t regret in the future.
he can sense the vague warmth from liem; the contentedness that emanates from the soul when one can offer help to another and see it received and taken to heart. as uncommon as an experience as this is for liem, it’s just as novel for makoto. typically he wouldn’t trust the advice anyone would give him, let alone an adult—they have always twisted their words and his understanding of them to their own ends, while fjord, his contemporary in hell, had given him advice on how to survive for nothing at all. makoto still feels as though he owes him (though, given what had happened directly before that advice, maybe not?). from liem, though, he senses a curious… void of self-interest. makoto’s eye for others’ intentions is not yet so sharp and discerning as it would one day be, but it’s a gut instinct he has, and he decides to trust it just this time.
he turns back ahead, going through the motions of dropping the piece of paper down into the jar and reaching for one of the matches. it’s as he goes through these steps of the ritual, however, that he can’t help but let his curiosity slip free from him: )
Are you going to wish to go home too?
( he immediately begins to regret it. he doesn’t think talking about it is going to endanger the wish (if their conversation has anything to say about it), but it’s still prying. his mouth presses together into a thin line; he strikes the match, brow furrowing a little as the flame threatens to burn his fingertips. )
I’ve just, um… I’ve noticed that a lot of people are wishing for that.
( he drops the match into the jar, watching the piece of paper catch almost immediately. ash, smoke. freedom. )
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
—Makoto
[For a moment, Liem looks at the red-eyed young man in surprise, his gaze now quietly assessing. As the youth’s tense manner and vengeful wish also suggested, his questions indicate to Liem that the life he was taken from was a hard and possibly even cruel one. He has the air of someone who was forced to grow up quickly, despite his obvious youth.]
You do have a point. All power can be taken, of course, but it is easier to lose that which you don’t fully control.
[Liem is content that his own power comes not from him, but from Abadar’s grace, just as he is content to be Abadar’s servant in the material plane. His mastery of that power will continue until he no longer has the desire or the ability to wield it in his patron’s name. But would he be pleased to wield the power of some unnamed entity with unknown ends? No, perhaps not.
It hardly matters. He is not in the habit of wishing for things to be given to him, like coins tossed to a beggar. Abadar only shows his followers the way; he expects them to carry themselves.]
Truthfully, I would not expect a wish you give to a candle to grant itself. I would think of such a thing more as a resolution: one that might help you to find the path to where you wish to be.
no subject
this is a realization makoto would have and learn from—the hard way—several years from now. as he stands here and now before liem, however, he is still as raw and vulnerable as an open wound. from this openness, everything he guesses about the young man from what he can observe in him is entirely accurate.
he nods, frowning. it doesn’t solidify his decision in asking for power rather than vengeance. power roughly given to someone wouldn’t be fully understood or perfectly controlled, would it? it feels like wishing for such a thing would just be foolishly manifesting a weapon into his own hands that someone like J could take to use against him. or, you know, just take from him and then mock him for reaching for in the first place…
he’s not the type of person who would well understand liem’s faith—his own thoughts on the subject are complicated and profoundly negative. any power one receives from another isn’t theirs at all, in his opinion, especially if it’s contingent on that patron’s judgment of their envoy’s morality (but, again, makoto is heavily biased in this). )
N-No, but… ( you never know. he hadn’t expected the summoning circle he’d found in an old, dusty book on the esoteric and the occult to actually summon a demon—though he’d hoped it would. and when it actually had…
he turns towards liem at the suggestion. his brow creases for just a moment, but then his expression resolves, thoughtful. ) You’re right. Um… Okay. I think I have an idea.
( he takes the crumpled wish in his hand and discards it, instead finding another scrap of paper to write on. he doesn’t particularly try to hide it from liem, if he either wants to peek or respect makoto’s privacy; it reads: “I want to learn what I need to in order to be free.” and yet, as he writes it, he wonders exactly what it is he means. to be free from J? from hell? from the shackles of an eternal life he didn’t ask for? he isn’t sure… he just thinks that he most wants to be able to make decisions for himself again.
he folds it carefully. he doesn’t burn it yet, though, instead looking to liem with earnestness burning in his oddly metallic eyes. ) …Thank you.
no subject
He watches the Makoto fetch a new piece of paper to write upon, but when he begins to write, Liem turns his eyes away. Instead he finds a slip of paper and a pen for himself, though he simply rests them on the table for now. He needs another moment to contemplate his own wish.
He knows where he needs to be; it’s just where he wishes to be that is in conflict. Really, he wishes he could be free to go where he’d like, and still be able to fulfill his duties as well. He just doesn’t know if such a thing is possible, given how far he wants to range.
But he still has a modest smile for the boy next to him when he speaks up again. Close-mouthed, of course, by force of habit.]
It was my pleasure. I hope your journey treats you well, young man, and you get where you want to be.
no subject
he can sense the vague warmth from liem; the contentedness that emanates from the soul when one can offer help to another and see it received and taken to heart. as uncommon as an experience as this is for liem, it’s just as novel for makoto. typically he wouldn’t trust the advice anyone would give him, let alone an adult—they have always twisted their words and his understanding of them to their own ends, while fjord, his contemporary in hell, had given him advice on how to survive for nothing at all. makoto still feels as though he owes him (though, given what had happened directly before that advice, maybe not?). from liem, though, he senses a curious… void of self-interest. makoto’s eye for others’ intentions is not yet so sharp and discerning as it would one day be, but it’s a gut instinct he has, and he decides to trust it just this time.
he turns back ahead, going through the motions of dropping the piece of paper down into the jar and reaching for one of the matches. it’s as he goes through these steps of the ritual, however, that he can’t help but let his curiosity slip free from him: )
Are you going to wish to go home too?
( he immediately begins to regret it. he doesn’t think talking about it is going to endanger the wish (if their conversation has anything to say about it), but it’s still prying. his mouth presses together into a thin line; he strikes the match, brow furrowing a little as the flame threatens to burn his fingertips. )
I’ve just, um… I’ve noticed that a lot of people are wishing for that.
( he drops the match into the jar, watching the piece of paper catch almost immediately. ash, smoke. freedom. )