2023-11-24: Fracturing Memories

• Log: Fracturing Memories
• Cast: Xantia, Azoth
• Where: Port Rosalia - The Docks
• Date: November 24, 2023
• Summary: After witnessing Xantia's distressing behavior in battle, Azoth rushes to their usual meeting place the moment his own repairs are complete.

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========================<* Port Rosalia - The Docks *>========================

Port Rosalia was once the second-largest port on Zoara, but the collapse of Celesti put a swift end to that. Many of its docks were destroyed in the war, and foreign merchants refused to do business in a "lawless" city. Recognizing the port's value, the Wei Trading Consortium talked Port Rosalia's leaders into a long-term contract. Once everything was signed, the Galadian firm sent in workers to rebuild the docks, as well as its own private security to "keep order".

Most of the port's surviving docks rest in Campbell Cove, a large sea cave that sheltered them from shelling. Outside of the cove, rows of inns and dockside taverns await travelers--some run by Wei, others by locals. Construction equipment is ever-present in the port, and so are the Consortium's security officers. The company's reconstruction efforts have hit snag after snag; some of the sabotage is undoubtedly the work of angry citizens, but Wei suspects that Anaheim is moving in to challenge its monopoly.

Port Rosalia may endure a second war, this one between wealthy Galadian corporations--and as always, its citizens will be the ones who suffer.

BGM: Wild Arms 4 - Port Irington

<Pose Tracker> Xantia has posed.

It's been some time, since the chaotic situation in Sielje unfolded. While Xantia may at first have appeared to be in a State, acting beyond her control... it gradually became evident that this may have been self-imposed from the get-go. For whatever reason, it had been Xantia's conscious decision to focus on eliminating Solaris above all else. But she couldn't go through with it, in the end. She hadn't anticipated Azoth's presence at that base, but... if only he had simply acted as his overrides demanded he should, she probably could have dealt with it, or so she believed.

It was too much to see him tearing himself apart, just to reach out to her. In the mindset she was in, it was difficult to believe she deserved any kindness. And that... that went far beyond a simple kindness. She understand far too well the effort that must have taken. He had truly embraced the possibilities offered by choosing the third option... just as she had been on the verge of giving up on it.

After all that... of course this is where she would be. No one would expect her to go all the way out to Port Rosalia... except for one, who would know that this is the only place it would make sense for her to go. What happened... isn't something she can easily talk about. It would be best if the first person she speaks to is someone who is likely to understand even if she didn't speak a single word.

The soles of Xantia's boots skim the waterline, as she sits on the end of a short pier at the far side of the docks. The pier is bereft of vessels at the moment, and the docks are bereft of most activity, owing to the time of day. It was already approaching midnight by the time she got here. Sleep has been... difficult, as of late, so her rhythm is all thrown off. But it's fine. She can just sit here for a bit, until she gets tired. She would usually meet Azoth during the afternoon, so... there's no way he would already be here. Right?

<Pose Tracker> Azoth has posed.

After sustaining unusually critical damage under Ethius' successful ploy, Azoth is only now fully repaired. ...As 'fully' repaired as Azoth can get, in his state.

So he goes immediately where he thinks he must.

Will he find her? Azoth has seen her 'lose' herself before, but he had never seen her quite like that. It took every scrap of himself he could loophole together to try and find out why, but the overrides, Leah's orders, that final appeal of Ethius'... Azoth has only corrupted, fragmented data of the battle's final moments. He thinks she ran away. He thinks she wanted to. Maybe she still wants to be gone.

He looks anyway, and keeps looking, well after the sun sets.

"Xantia."

She probably heard his footsteps first, hurried in his rush, with no attempt to quiet himself or any mechanical rattle of his gait. Whether she looks back at him or not, he stops, hesitating briefly.

For a certain gesture, Azoth always lets other people make the first move. He accepts, but does not offer. Sometimes he even returns it, but usually with delay, stalling to read the tone. Right now, there exists no combination of words he knows that translate his computations into accurate output. Of all times, why think of it only now, when it may be the riskiest it's ever been...?

Because despite the margin of error, that desire for truth wins out. Azoth does not enjoy lying to Xantia. Unable to find the right words, he does the most honest thing available to him: he reaches to pull her into a hug, and he does not say anything further until she chooses to.

<Pose Tracker> Xantia has posed.

It feels like she must be imagining things. What would be the odds of hearing Azoth approaching, just a short moment after she thought of him? Can wishful thinking do that? Looking back would be silly, if she starts with that she might be looking over her shoulder all night.

...

She looks anyway, a moment later. At the same time, her name is spoken. Her eyes grow wide. He is here. How he is already here? She has no idea what to say, she didn't have enough time to put her thoughts in order, not nearly enough.

Before she full well realized it, she's already up on her feet, facing him. There's hesitation on her end, too. Computations, emotions... they're rather the same, in that you can take as long as you like trying to figure them out and never get any closer to understanding the full scope of why they happen the way they do. Right now, Xantia is more uncertain than ever about what drives her, what should drive her, robbing her of the usual level of spontaneity. She doesn't normally leave this much of an opening to take the initiative.

Azoth seizes it, instead. And she never sees it coming, until for once, she's the one getting pulled into a hug, rather than the other way around.

She's perplexed enough to entirely fail to react for a few seconds, remaining still as if frozen in place. Then, slowly, her arms wrap back around Azoth, quickly tightening her embrace. But stopping short of the usual level of Xantia's spine-damaging hugs. It's no less sincere for it, if anything it may be moreso. She rests his head against his chest, not speaking for quite some time.

"...It's warm," are the first words she finally speaks. Of all things, something that's factually inaccurate. But she's not concerned with facts, right now. She knows what she feels.

A short time later, she raises her head to look Azoth in the eyes. "...I've remembered... doing terrible things, Azoth." Sadly, this likely doesn't come as a surprise, at this point.

<Pose Tracker> Azoth has posed.

It feels like a long few moments whether or not this would help. He wanted it to. But he knew it was for him as much as her. Not merely communicating the data, but having it. Xantia's hugs always say so much -- so many things he right now hopes -- wants -- to know. When Xantia returns it, Azoth tightens his grip by only a fraction, half in affirmation, and half and something to keep her from feeling like she's hugging a statue. He's a machine. No breath, nor warmth of blood, nor heartbeat, but there is his own unique hum of mechanics inside his chest.

Xantia says it's warm. The Azoth was not designed to be 'warm'.

But he wasn't designed to be a lot of things.

Her next words are indeed no surprise, and he lets the faint smile he was wearing finally fade. "Friends, no matter what we remember," he reminds her softly. "If you don't want to say, I understand. But there's no memory you could share that would have me break that promise."

<Pose Tracker> Xantia has posed.

There's no question that it brings comfort to Xantia, being held like this. Azoth's nature has never bothered her in the slightest. There's only those nagging doubts that won't leave her alone. Whether she deserves any of this. Whether she's too much of a liability to be around. Whether she isn't just going through the motions, without any meaning to anything she does. Things that she doesn't need to say out loud to Azoth. He'll already understand that much. That's a lot of complicated things that she can simply skip past. None of it really needs to matter, anyway. Not when it's so clearly something that they both want.

"...Yeah. Friends," she agrees, finding her smile just as Azoth's fades. But it's a complicated matter, what she wants. "It's... I don't even really know, what I want right now. I want to tell you everything... and, at the same time, I want to tell you nothing." Would she feel better talking about it? Or no one ever knowing? She's certain of so little, at the moment.

But, the fact is... she came here. She wanted to meet Azoth. She couldn't have predicted receiving something that, right now, feels like all she needs. The original needs she felt were different. It just doesn't feel right not to say anything, when she considers that. But where to start...? At the beginning seems sensible.

Xantia's shoulder sag for a moment, her grip briefly losing strength. It seems like she might be about to pull back, only to reaffirm that no, she wants to stay like this, tightening the hug once more. "I remember... the moment I woke up. When I didn't remember anything... I mean, the previous time. And there were flashes from before then..."

She lets out a chuckle, at her own clumsy words. "I'm not... telling the story very well, huh? Well, it's not really much of a story, anyway... pieces are still missing, lots of them. I mostly just... remember the way I felt, at the time." She involuntarily shudders. "The... despair, when I realized what I'd done, not understanding why."

<Pose Tracker> Azoth has posed.

They are things all too painfully easy for Azoth to understand. The most painful part of it is knowing Xantia also does. And yet... it lessens a different kind of pain. Speaking with Xantia will never result in that sudden feeling of isolation despite being in the company of another. He doesn't know if it's an entirely good thing, but it is a thing they have, and since they have it, they can want to be here.

Xantia smiles and Azoth's eyes light a little brighter.

"That makes sense," he says, completely without irony. "I'm not going anywhere either way. You'll still be Xantia whatever I do or don't know." That's how the promise works, he thinks. Whether Xantia remembers anything, or nothing, or tells him, or doesn't.

But he quiets as she struggles with her thoughts, letting her decide which is really best. Another thing he understands. How do you accurately predict what will help? Explaining something means reliving it, in a way. That, to use informal language, sucks.

At first Azoth prepares to let Xantia go. Xantia changes her mind, and he resettles his grip on her, steadying. It's a wordless invitation that she can stay in the hug as long as she needs to.

"You're telling it fine," he says. "That's how it is, isn't it? We wake up, and we feel, but we don't know. Then we remember, and we feel something new. Then we hit empty space, and realize we still don't know." He tightens the hug briefly when she shudders. "...Sorry, I... never figured out how to make it hurt less. Besides talking to you." He smiles more sheepishly. "Which you might have more of a problem doing, since you are you."

<Pose Tracker> Xantia has posed.

The moment that Xantia's smile fades briefly is a good indicator of how she's feeling. It happens exactly when Azoth posits that no matter what, she'll still be Xantia. Her worst fear is that she was mistaken about that. That something might happen which will cause her to no longer be Xantia. Things would all be so much easier if she could just disavow the Xantia that came before. But she found herself unable to, and trying to fit in the new puzzle pieces caused wildly erratic behavior. If it only keeps escalating from here, how far removed of the one currently known as Xantia will she end up...?

However, there is something that she can pit strength from, and this too relates to Azoth. "...You didn't want it. So you did away with it. I wonder if that's what I did, too."

It feels like it would be too painful to say it out loud, so she only implies it. But it's about memories, of course. That's what they were discussing. 'Don't ever do that again,' is also not spoken out loud. That's definitely part of the way the promise works. He has to remember, in order to keep it.

She's absolutely not telling the story in a way that feels 'fine' to her. It takes her a bit to puzzle out why it was so disjointed. But then it hits her. She was trying to start at the beginning of the story. She got confused about which beginning.

"It's okay... it's okay," she tells Azoth, sounding like she's trying to convince herself. "I'm... better now. And... I think you've figured out how to make it hurt less just fine." She wouldn't be able to accurately put into words how it works, but... just letting her stay exactly like this is doing wonders, in making things hurt less.

She closes her eyes, briefly, finally settling on a good beginning point. "...Did I ever tell you about Jolen Crann?" Her eyes open at this point, not leaving much of a pause for an answer before she continues. "He was the one who found me after I lost my memory, or so I thought. But... it turned out he was the one who took it from me. ...Or so I thought. That wasn't entirely true either. I'd already lost my memory before that. All he'd done was seal away what little memories I was able to regain, since then."

Double amnesia. It's almost funny. But it's nothing to laugh at.

"I never could get Jolen to remove the seal. But I think what happened is, it ended up going away on its own. And what I saw was... a lot, all at once. Starting at when I woke up in an unfamiliar place, not knowing who I was."

She remembered... not remembering anything. Now she just flat out says it, following a brief chuckle. "It's... almost funny, huh?"

<Pose Tracker> Azoth has posed.

Azoth's expression mirrors Xantia's, not in some form of observant mimicry, but because her mood leads his in this moment. Her smile fades, and so does his, his head slightly to one side as he searches her expression and listens. Xantia is always Xantia. Is it so strange to think so...?

But her bringing back his own memory startles him to new attention. "I..." It is a complicated feeling. He remembers not wanting it. He does not remember the full reason why. He's here now. He made a promise. But the 'mistake of his existence'...

What despair did Xantia feel?

Azoth's not sure it is okay, but can they make it that way? He quiets and listens again, except for a moment of a bright smile that he is making the hurt less. ...Wouldn't that be a first, Azoth?

Jolen Crann... Azoth shakes his head as Xantia explains. Then winces. The one who stole her memory... But not really. Amnesia layered on amnesia. It's... not funny. It's cruel.

"Almost," Azoth says grimly instead. "...I was so ready to hate the one who stole my memories. Before it, um, turned out to be me." Don't unpack any possible technical truths in that. He's over it! Mostly! But if Xantia harbors anger for Jolen, even in light of this... Azoth gets it. "But to remember not remembering..."

He does not remove his gaze from Xantia, but for a moment his face is blank, unsure what to display with the calculations he's running.

"Xantia," Azoth starts, settling on an uneasy expression. "I... have a very similar memory somewhere in my database. Waking up. Not knowing anything about myself. Being somewhere unfamiliar. Yours might not be the same. Maybe you have a little more data from before that refutes something like this, but..."

...

"It's the memory of when I was first created."

<Pose Tracker> Xantia has posed.

It used to be so difficult for Xantia to imagine. For all these years, little could motivate her more than the search for her lost memories. How could anyone willingly choose to lose them in the first place?

She thinks she understands now. All it took was remembering what doesn't feel like a very long period of time to make her wish that she could forget that part of it. On the other hand... it's only thanks to the memories she has now, and the people close to her, that she was able to move past it, this time. But what if there's more? What if it gets even worse? Is it possible that she, too, would become so desperate that she saw no other way out...?

It's a comforting thought, in spite of everything. Because if she chose to not remember being a bad person, would that not mean that she wanted to be a good person? Azoth's actions make sense to her, in that light.

She looks embarrassed more than anything, regarding Jolen. "I, uh... kinda did hate him for a good while, I think." 'Hate' is difficult to define. She sure didn't want to see him anymore, and couldn't forgive him no matter his reasons. If that's what hate is, well. "...Might have been easier if it had been me," is all she can say about it now. It's been years since she's seen Jolen, when she used to consider him 'grandpa'. The more time passes, the more she regrets making no attempt to make amends.

Azoth, however, describes a certain similar memory he has. She isn't sure where he's going with it, at first. But when he relates it to her, and clarifies its nature... Xantia's eyes go wide.

"No," she says almost immediately. "No, no. It's nothing like that. It can't be."

Her grip slips, and she starts to pull away. Not to run off or anything like that. But she suddenly seems to favor wrapping her own arms around herself. It's clear that Azoth said something that she absolutely doesn't want to hear, a thought she doesn't even want to entertain. She does, of course, highly suspect that things were done to her, that would explain her unusual abilities. But she's certain there had to have been a life before then. There has to be.

Luckily, she does have more data to support her denial. "I was on the ground, in the dark. Hurting all over. Something had to have hurt me, but I wasn't sure what. I felt like I could still be in danger."

An incident took her memory. This wouldn't make sense otherwise. But she doesn't stop talking there, now that she's gotten started. "All I remembered was... 'Xantia'. That's what came to mind, when I wondered who I was. But nothing else. I saw another person there, on the floor. Face down, unmoving. There was a liquid pooling around him. I couldn't tell what color, in the dark."

Of course, it's a foregone conclusion. But not to one without memories. And yet... "'Blood. This man is dead.' I... don't know how I knew that, why I immediately understood what that meant. ...Is that how it was for you, too? That, even though you remembered nothing, there were still things you just... knew, somehow?"

But perhaps the most disturbing element about it, is what she's forced to conclude regarding the way she felt, upon this realization. "...It felt good, at the time. That there was something that just... 'clicked'. I didn't feel anything about that corpse. I was just happy that I figured something out."

<Pose Tracker> Azoth has posed.

There's a number of reasons to imagine why someone might. Azoth has a few guesses as to his own... but until he has more information, they are only guesses. Guesses that could now extend to Xantia's situation. And the truth is, none of those guesses are anything he'd want to be true for himself, and far less for her. Another one of those funny without laughing things... to find someone who understands, and then to realize you kind of wish they were the last person who did.

He certainly has a lot more to learn about optimism. At least Xantia's been a good influence in that regard.

Xantia's embarrassment wins a sad smile. All right, so it's a little difficult to imagine Xantia hating anything after all. But he doesn't doubt the intensity of emotion in he scenario. "It hurts to have our decision taken away," is what he chooses to say, and it will be all he says, if she'd like to drop it there.

But he has his own guesses for other things and Xantia... pulls away. Azoth startles, reaching, then pulling his hand to his own chest, wilting back a little. For someone who has wanted nothing more than to find her memories, the cruelest suggestion is that there's nothing there for her to find beyond a that tiny handful that was sealed away. So maybe he's wrong. Hopefully he's wrong, and he hunts for assurances he might be within her story.

Right. Maybe there's more. To have been hurt before she remembered. Possibly to have killed a man -- optimistically, to have witnessed his death, but, again, Azoth's not very optimistic. Those are still memories from 'before' she's missing, right? Except... the way Xantia loses herself in certain moments...

"Yes. I was programmed with knowledge beforehand... mostly related to combat because that's what I was made for. And my name." Like her, but hopefully unlike her, this one time at least. Azoth smiles weakly. "It's pretty fun learning things... Was it like that when you forgot the second time?"

<Pose Tracker> Xantia has posed.

Xantia knows that mix of two feelings well. She wouldn't wish any of what she'd experienced in regards to her lost memories on anyone. And yet... she was delighted to make the acquaintance of anyone who'd suffered that same fate, because they could understand like no one else could. At the time, what Jolen did to her felt like the cruelest thing imaginable. And yet, now... it's starting to feel like she could understand, how even that could be a kindness under certain circumstances. Everything's all mixed up.

But yes. The part that Azoth mentioned, that's the important part here. "Exactly. If it'd been my decision, if I'd asked him to seal my memory, that would be one thing. But it wasn't. He'd decided it on his own." He admitted to that much, when confronted. No amount of best intentions could possibly make up for that, in her mind.

Xantia's optimism is strong indeed, but it does have certain requirements. Primarily: hope. What Azoth just suggested threatened to take away an important element of hope. If that happened... that might be one of those situations with cause to wonder whether she could be the same Xantia anymore. It's a slippery slope, which Xantia is determined to resist at all costs. Some things, she just can't afford to think about. And no one can make her.

Regardless of the abrupt seeking of distance, she appears to recover quickly enough, aided by occupying herself with the story she tells. It's easier, this time, to gloss over the possibility of having programmed knowledge. She instead focuses on the matter of Learning Things.

"...Everything was so new. I felt so happy, about the smallest things. It was... a simpler time." It's enough to make her wistful. The more new experiences, the less special they get. It can't ever feel the same again like it did in those early days. But THAT's hardly any reason to regret having memories.

"...I still don't know what kind of building I was in," she continues the earlier story, "But I have somewhat of an idea. Metal and stone, is most of what I remember. And quiet. Everything was so quiet. The doors... they were metal, too. They were stuck, so I had to force them open." She didn't realize her physical strength was unusual, so she thought nothing of it.

"Then... I reached that room." She's arrived at the hard part. She flinches at the memory, shaking her head, trying to push it further down. She only needs to talk about it. She doesn't want to see it again.

"...Corpses. So many of them, this time. At that point, I couldn't help but wonder, what happened here? So I started to investigate, looking them over..."

She buries her face in her hands, shaking her head. "...Why did I do that?" Investigate the corpses, she means, but also... Raising her head, she now looks absolutely miserable. "I saw these flashes... Azoth... they were my friends. And I... I killed them all. With this." Raising her left arm, she presents the bracer she wears. It's probably not hard to imagine seeing the wounds made by an energy blade might trigger something like that.

Head lowered, she adds in a soft voice, "...That's all. I don't know what happened after that. I probably... well, Jolen said I was very unstable, when he found me." But that's not the most distressing part, to her. Azoth can likely guess exactly what she's about to say, when she looks to him again.

"...I'm scared, Azoth. I'm scared that, for whatever reason... I'm going to end up killing my friends again."

<Pose Tracker> Azoth has posed.

It's hard for Azoth to have sympathy for Jolen. Maybe harder, because he did not know the man. He only knows what he did to Xantia. And regardless of those memories, and who Xantia might have been... Azoth keeps asking the same question: in what circumstance is someone not permitted to exist? Erasing a memory is trying to erase an existence, isn't it? It's just... too much to call it kindness. And yet... there are circumstances.

Ah, hope. There's the problem then. Azoth has long been a creature of so little hope, so much so he does not recognize how dangerous it is for it to be slipping from Xantia here. He only knows he's hurt her, and there's no positive feedback associated with it.

If not for that lingering guilt, he might have offered more amusement at the idea of simpler times. Relating to Xantia's story out loud right now seems suddenly dangerous. But he remembers something like that... how exciting each new piece of data and each success on his path forward reinforced him with 'happiness'.

It's not his fault, but he's feeling rather cursed: hope that there's more, something to prove him wrong, and then there is. It's corpses. Corpses of friends.

They really are too alike.

Azoth looks to her bracer only a moment, because mostly, he's looking at her to catch her gaze when she next lifts her eyes. And what can he say to that fear? The one he has carried for so long, with his every attempt to grasp at hope having it constantly slip through his claws like grains of sand? What does a hopeless machine say to someone looking for it?

(You probably don't say, 'if you kill me, I forgive you.')

"Xantia..."

If a hug is too much... Azoth reaches out slowly, hand to the side of her face to steady their eye contact, so she can see he won't look away.

"...I wish I could promise you I'd be there to keep it from happening." They both know why he can't. "But the Black Wolves, Gwen, all your friends... They're strong people. They wouldn't let you do that, for their own sakes, and for yours. No one wants you to hurt like that again. You can trust me of all people when I say friends can be really, really stubborn when you're trying to kill them. And they'll still call you friend afterward, no matter how much you tell them not to."

He puts on a faint smile.

"There's still missing pieces. If we can find what triggered it, then it stands to reason we can prevent it. I know you're scared, but scared doesn't have to be forever."

<Pose Tracker> Xantia has posed.

If only Xantia had any idea how to give people their own hope and optimism. She can only share her own, with the additional hope that it'll be enough. It seems to work well enough, and yet... it's such a fragile thing. A powerful enough memory returning, and she was thrown into doubt. Was that a willful betrayal? Or did she lose control of herself, in much the same way as has been happening with increased frequency as of late? Does it matter? Either way, it's hard to see herself deserving of trust, having seen what she's capable of in all too real and direct a manner.

And yet. That's not how she regards Azoth. She trusts him so readily, to the point where it's him she's depending on to help her through this, somehow. To make this miserable feeling go away, convince her that it doesn't have to change as much as it feels it does. She doesn't resist the touch, rather leans into it, closing her eyes for a moment before she meets his gaze.

And, in the end... laughs? It's subdued, but... it still seems like a genuinely amused laugh. Just... the way he chose to put that. Is that really how it is? Somehow, she'd never considered it. All she ever does is what makes the most sense to her. Of course she would never give up on Azoth, no matter how murderous his overrides force him to be. That makes total sense to her. Why couldn't she believe it would be the same for her? It seems so silly now. Is that really the level to which they are the same...?

She sobers, before admitting, "...What I saw... it was a slaughter. They weren't fighters. Maybe, now that I have friends who can handle themselves... they can handle me, too." She shakes her head, firmly. "No, not maybe. I have to trust that they will. What kind of friend would I be, if I couldn't trust them that much?"

It feels like it's always the simplest, yet most important things, that slip through the cracks in her mind. Even though she's said it multiple times. 'We can handle each other'. There was no reason to only consider Azoth in that equation. And besides, he's right. There is still more to learn. There must still be answers in the unknown parts of her past. What she's learned now hasn't changed that.

This time, she's the one reaching out, initiating a hug. That's more like usual, even if it still lacks the excessive force. Which is probably not a bad thing.

"...Thank you, Azoth. I'm... really happy you care so much." She looks up to him then, frowning briefly. But it quickly reforms into a smile, as she leans back into the hug.

She won't say it. She won't tell him not to force himself as much as he did back there, just to reach out to her. How could she dissuade him from making choices that should be impossible, the very thing she's been encouraging all this time?

...Maybe she has a selfish reason for that, too. But maybe it's okay to be a little selfish, sometimes.

<Pose Tracker> Azoth has posed.

The laugh lifts the gloom shrouding Azoth's core, but there's a brief surprise in his eyes for it.

There was a time he would have chided himself for manipulation... for wanting to say the right thing and get the right response. But as long as Xantia might be able to enjoy herself again, past her fear and the threat of the past catching the future, what does it matter where any of him is coming from?

"Exactly. You've given a lot to me, Xantia, and I'm sure it's the same for everyone else. Looking out for us. Performing miracles like that's what weekends are for. Let your friends give you some of that in return. As long as you keep trying and holding on... we'll find something."

Handling each other. That might have been the first bit of hope for Azoth back then. Don't give up. Keep trying. Find the third option. It seemed impossible. And then... it wasn't. Small ways at first. Big ways, maybe? He doesn't know how to give hope or optimism. Maybe it's lucky Xantia considered Azoth for the task: he's mostly reflecting what she's shown him.

But that's because Xantia always makes perfect, logical sense. Azoth would be happy to debate that point with anyone. At length.

He wraps her back up in his arms when she returns for the hug, and something feels a little less broken. Azoth does catch it though, that frown at the thought of how much he cares. Knowing Xantia, it's not hard to guess why. But there's nothing to be said. Because there's no use in trying to stop him now.

Azoth smiles instead. "I really do."

And that's his own form of selfishness, to let such a claim be true at face value without falling back into the habit of stipulations and caveats about his qualia. He cares. It's not enough on it's own, but maybe that's where finding new options for Xantia starts.