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[flowerwept]

@arathina said:  "I told you, Hermes," her voice is sickly sweet, mocking that Meteion of ages past. Nothing about her remains that Hermes tried to give her. Nothing remains in Hermes either. "That I would have given you the most gentlest of deaths if you had shed your mortal flesh and come away with me," she almost looks sad, hurt, but it flickers into emptiness soon after. "But you chose to suffer. Prolonged it, even. Very foolish, Hermes." Her tone now drips of malice, small hands snapping up to grip Fandaniel's face. "You will suffer more than anyone else has suffered, you will be given a taste of what it's been like to suffer as your creation. Their cries will mirror your cries. Their despair will mirror your despair. This is your fate. Are you ready, Hermes?" / Hi sorry I felt very inspired you can totally ignore this if you want I'm sorry gjsjtbsbbt

FITTING THAT IT SHOULD END LIKE THIS -- Fandaniel before Meteion, both of them twisted amalgamations of who they once had been. There’s nothing for both of them anymore except emptiness / empty eyes empty soul / her hands hurt a little bit with the pressure that she’s applying to the sides of his skull, and Fandaniel can do little else but kneel in the presence of awe-inspiring despair. He’s smiling, of course. And he laughs / that’s empty, too. Fandaniel has wanted nothing more than the world to acknowledge the truth of his despair: Meteion might not know it, but her cruelty is a kindness to them both. Especially those little pangs he feels when she address him by a name that is no longer his own. Damn ancients and their insufferable desire to cling to that which does not exist, he thinks this, eye lidding, all nihility, no more need for theatrics anymore. Damn them all to hell.

“I may play the part of the fool, but I play it very well, you must admit that.”  His shoulders go limp, arms sagging further, the backs of his knuckles barely skimming the top of cool ground. It’s an uncomfortable position for him, on his knees but back locked straight, staring straight into Meteion’s fish-dead eyes. Good. Let it hurt. Let this be the last thing I feel.  “You hate Hermes. I do too. Do as you please: I have been ready to die for a very, very long time, Meteion.”  It’s been too long since he said that name and the last part of Hermes’s soul fractures within him.  “I think this is the part where Hermes would apologize for not being able to keep his promise.”  How did that go again? Upon your return I will gift you with........

Well, not that it matters.  “This play has gone on long enough and I tire of the encore. Let the curtain fall.”