[Not as though it takes much for him to anger Felix these days; a misplaced word, a misplaced notion, a misplaced intent. He is not so much walking on eggshells with his old friend, more than he is walking on a bed of nails.
Deservedly, perhaps, but it is fraught conversation all the same.]
( And that's the real question, isn't it? One that the logical part of Felix's brain knows it's fair to ask, but one that his stubbornness won't acknowledge. All of his anger — all of it — Felix lays at the feet of Dimitri and Rodrigue, forcing them to shoulder the blame for his own inability to process his grief.
Everything Dimitri says therefore must be wrong. Every time he reaches out, Felix has to slap him away. So what if it hurts him too? So what if he already knows that lashing out at Dimitri will never make him feel better? That's just life, isn't it, and Felix learned four years ago that nothing in life makes sense anyway.
There's a lengthy silence before he taps back a reply. )
Nothing.
Just don't fall asleep in a stupid place next time. It's embarrassing for the whole House, not just for you.
[Dimitri hates that this is the reality between them now, caught in a loop of tattered communication and a friendship gone sour. He hates that he will never be able to satisfy Felix and his perception of him, and he hates that he feels no need to justify his monstrous self to the other. All the unflattering parts, the creature that hears only the voices of the dead calling out for retribution, the one that feels a righteous satisfaction in cutting down those who deserve it... He cannot deny it. But he cannot apologize for it, either, not when he is only acting in the stead of those who can no longer do the same.
His relationship with Felix, this old childhood friend of warm memories in the obliterating Faerghus winters, it's withered up and dried, just a dead thing at his feet. One more failure on his path laden with them.
He's sorry for it; the guilt is a blade slipped in-between his ribs. But what is there to say? Nothing. Perhaps that's for the best, in the end, to sever any hope of salvaging the past, and instead allow it to rot in the sun.]
I understand, and I agree. I suppose I've just been tired as of late. Long hours of training is necessary for bouts of improvement, as I'm sure the Professor would agree, but maybe this is proof that I should afford myself a day off.
I'm not surprised. Lately you look worse and worse every day — it's pathetic, really.
( It isn't the anger, the pain, or even the revulsion that haunts Felix in his quiet moments, but rather the fact that he can't help but be observant when it comes to Dimitri. Watching him in battle makes him feel sick, but watching him work himself into a distant husk of a man somehow makes him feel worse. He grits his teeth through another surge of irritation and wills himself not to throw his phone against the wall. )
Mercedes mentioned she's teaching you needlecraft. Maybe you should just stick to that, Your Beastliness, while the rest of us train to protect your Kingdom.
[Has he? Dimitri frowns at the message before replying, assessing his own state. He has always tried to look presentable, to be amiable and gracious when necessary; this is not an act, of course, but the mere necessity of royalty, and an easy alignment with his personality, besides. He is often aware of his appearance and demeanor, keeping himself steady despite the storm in his head -- but Felix is cuttingly observant, and perhaps he has noticed more of himself than even Dimitri is aware of.
His brow pinches. Dimitri rubs the back of his neck, considering, before shooting back a response.]
Is it so bad?
[Maybe he should rest. (He can't.) A day from away continual training and endless studying should not be so bad for the state of one's mind and body. (Why would he?)]
And yes, she has been teaching me. Or at least trying to. My attempts have been less than successful when it comes to the needle and thread.
[To say the least. Let us not speak of the myriad of broken scissors, bent needles, snapped threads, and very... unorthodox designs he's managed to create as Mercedes smiled over his shoulder. All politeness, he's sure.]
It proves more frustrating than cathartic. I actually think it's better avoided for now.
( Honestly? The idea of Dimitri trying to wield a needle and thread is somewhat preposterous, so he's not entirely surprised that it hasn't been going well. He's built for strength and destruction, not work which requires finesse, which is something Felix has always tried to hold on to when mentally pitting himself against him. )
Pity. I was looking forward to giving you my shirts to mend, like a court lady.
( He wasn't, he's just a jerk, but Dimitri knows this already. Moving on. )
Perhaps a sleeping draught would do it, then. I'm not risking my neck saving you just because you went into battle tired — if that's the case, you deserve to bleed out in the dirt.
( So just!! Get some rest!!!! )
Edited (Clearly I've forgotten how to tag) 2020-09-06 16:08 (UTC)
[A jerk as always!! As to be expected, so yes, moving on. He certainly hopes that no one should put the fate of their seams in his hands, else it comes back in tatters.]
I would not have you risk yourself for me at all.
[Just so they're clear on that, too.]
I had not considered a sleeping draught, though admittedly, it sounds a bit excessive to fall back on that first. But do you not think that would be detrimental to my studies in the morning?
My morning studies are related to how well I and others do on the battlefield. Texts focusing on wartime history and strategies are just as essential as pitting a sword or lance against a training dummy. I cannot neglect or compromise them.
Strategies learned from a book can be replicated by anyone, and expected by any enemy. You'd do better to actually think for yourself for once, boar, instead of relying on drivel written by some stuffy old guy 80 years ago.
( Yes, Felix is a firm believer in the superiority of avant-garde strategies, what of it?? )
But that's probably not proper enough for you, is it? You want to be perfectly by the book until you decide it's time to start tearing people apart.
[It isn't his meaning, but so much of what he says will be tainted by what Felix knows him to be. There are parts that he won't deny, but-]
Of course one must think for themselves in the midst of battle and act accordingly. But the past harbors so much that we can learn from, mistakes that should not be repeated. How are we to learn, if not by what has already transpired by those that came before us?
That'll only get you so far, is what I'm saying, so it's not worth panicking that one slow morning in the classroom will make the difference between success and failure.
( But, ugh, he's already annoyed by how invested he sounds. Time to nip this in the bud. )
But whatever, do what you want. I'm not interested in arguing about this.
( Types out a bunch of nonsense about how Dimitri gave up his humanity that day.
... Slowly deletes aforementioned nonsense, because even Felix has a limit as to how many spiteful "truth bombs" he can drop in one day. They hurt him, too. )
I'm not the one exhausting myself over pointless lectures.
[Dimitri is quite fluent in Felix-isms. How promising!]
In that case, would you like to arrange a time? Perhaps in the morning — if I’m to take a break from my studies, why not focus on my techniques instead?
[That isn’t how resting works, but. Well. It’s something.]
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finalflight2020-09-06 07:59 am
@savantly
[Not as though it takes much for him to anger Felix these days; a misplaced word, a misplaced notion, a misplaced intent. He is not so much walking on eggshells with his old friend, more than he is walking on a bed of nails.
Deservedly, perhaps, but it is fraught conversation all the same.]
What do you want me to say, Felix?
[That's the core of the issue, isn't it?]
no subject
( And that's the real question, isn't it? One that the logical part of Felix's brain knows it's fair to ask, but one that his stubbornness won't acknowledge. All of his anger — all of it — Felix lays at the feet of Dimitri and Rodrigue, forcing them to shoulder the blame for his own inability to process his grief.
Everything Dimitri says therefore must be wrong. Every time he reaches out, Felix has to slap him away. So what if it hurts him too? So what if he already knows that lashing out at Dimitri will never make him feel better? That's just life, isn't it, and Felix learned four years ago that nothing in life makes sense anyway.
There's a lengthy silence before he taps back a reply. )
Nothing.
Just don't fall asleep in a stupid place next time. It's embarrassing for the whole House, not just for you.
no subject
His relationship with Felix, this old childhood friend of warm memories in the obliterating Faerghus winters, it's withered up and dried, just a dead thing at his feet. One more failure on his path laden with them.
He's sorry for it; the guilt is a blade slipped in-between his ribs. But what is there to say? Nothing. Perhaps that's for the best, in the end, to sever any hope of salvaging the past, and instead allow it to rot in the sun.]
I understand, and I agree. I suppose I've just been tired as of late. Long hours of training is necessary for bouts of improvement, as I'm sure the Professor would agree, but maybe this is proof that I should afford myself a day off.
[Eh, he probably won't.]
no subject
I'm not surprised. Lately you look worse and worse every day — it's pathetic, really.
( It isn't the anger, the pain, or even the revulsion that haunts Felix in his quiet moments, but rather the fact that he can't help but be observant when it comes to Dimitri. Watching him in battle makes him feel sick, but watching him work himself into a distant husk of a man somehow makes him feel worse. He grits his teeth through another surge of irritation and wills himself not to throw his phone against the wall. )
Mercedes mentioned she's teaching you needlecraft. Maybe you should just stick to that, Your Beastliness, while the rest of us train to protect your Kingdom.
no subject
His brow pinches. Dimitri rubs the back of his neck, considering, before shooting back a response.]
Is it so bad?
[Maybe he should rest. (He can't.) A day from away continual training and endless studying should not be so bad for the state of one's mind and body. (Why would he?)]
And yes, she has been teaching me. Or at least trying to. My attempts have been less than successful when it comes to the needle and thread.
[To say the least. Let us not speak of the myriad of broken scissors, bent needles, snapped threads, and very... unorthodox designs he's managed to create as Mercedes smiled over his shoulder. All politeness, he's sure.]
It proves more frustrating than cathartic. I actually think it's better avoided for now.
no subject
( Honestly? The idea of Dimitri trying to wield a needle and thread is somewhat preposterous, so he's not entirely surprised that it hasn't been going well. He's built for strength and destruction, not work which requires finesse, which is something Felix has always tried to hold on to when mentally pitting himself against him. )
Pity. I was looking forward to giving you my shirts to mend, like a court lady.
( He wasn't, he's just a jerk, but Dimitri knows this already. Moving on. )
Perhaps a sleeping draught would do it, then. I'm not risking my neck saving you just because you went into battle tired — if that's the case, you deserve to bleed out in the dirt.
( So just!! Get some rest!!!! )
no subject
I would not have you risk yourself for me at all.
[Just so they're clear on that, too.]
I had not considered a sleeping draught, though admittedly, it sounds a bit excessive to fall back on that first. But do you not think that would be detrimental to my studies in the morning?
no subject
( >8[ )
I don't care about your morning studies — all I care about is making sure you don't get us all killed.
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My morning studies are related to how well I and others do on the battlefield. Texts focusing on wartime history and strategies are just as essential as pitting a sword or lance against a training dummy. I cannot neglect or compromise them.
no subject
Please.
Strategies learned from a book can be replicated by anyone, and expected by any enemy. You'd do better to actually think for yourself for once, boar, instead of relying on drivel written by some stuffy old guy 80 years ago.
( Yes, Felix is a firm believer in the superiority of avant-garde strategies, what of it?? )
But that's probably not proper enough for you, is it? You want to be perfectly by the book until you decide it's time to start tearing people apart.
no subject
[It isn't his meaning, but so much of what he says will be tainted by what Felix knows him to be. There are parts that he won't deny, but-]
Of course one must think for themselves in the midst of battle and act accordingly. But the past harbors so much that we can learn from, mistakes that should not be repeated. How are we to learn, if not by what has already transpired by those that came before us?
no subject
( But, ugh, he's already annoyed by how invested he sounds. Time to nip this in the bud. )
But whatever, do what you want. I'm not interested in arguing about this.
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[The Prince of Faerghus, ever diligent, ever studious. Goddess forbid he shows even one moment of slacking off.]
Have you been resting well, Felix?
[Anyway let's not make this about him any longer.]
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( Read: no, he hasn't, hypocrite mode has been well and truly activated. )
And either way, I'm still the most skilled sword on the battlefield. That's all you need to care about.
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Even the most skilled swordsman can err in the heat of battle. So what of your own advice for me? It should apply to you just as well.
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We're not.
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We are both human and fallible, aren’t we?
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... Slowly deletes aforementioned nonsense, because even Felix has a limit as to how many spiteful "truth bombs" he can drop in one day. They hurt him, too. )
I'm not the one exhausting myself over pointless lectures.
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No, your hours are whiled away against the training dummies instead. It’s not much of a difference at all.
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[...]
However, I do possess a working pair of eyes.
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I suppose you're skilled enough with that lance to be worth my time.
( Which is Felix-speak for "yes please", naturally. )
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In that case, would you like to arrange a time? Perhaps in the morning — if I’m to take a break from my studies, why not focus on my techniques instead?
[That isn’t how resting works, but. Well. It’s something.]
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Fine. Before breakfast, while it's still quiet. I don't want an audience.
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Very well, before breakfast, away from any and all wandering eyes. I will see you then.