i genuinely enjoy the amount of respect and love and care the circle has for cosmo. i can't possibly know if it will ever backfire given the circumstances they are in but that's not even what's so important right now. what will happen is what will happen but the beginning, the starting point that is actually a starting point only for us. for them? it's one of many that dotted the path of their relationship, their connection to cosmo.
i suppose it is so nice to see because there is an image of an old, obnoxious, know-it-all figures in media that are presented from the perspective — having knowledge is a grant of respect. but cosmo, at least from what we hear others speak of him, is not that. he is an old man that his grandson relative? father? wants to protect because that's how it should be and not the other way around. he is an old friend to madam glask, and he is the closest and hence the dearest, which means she will step over her fear and lost trust of elsie and follow their mission through. he is an associate, a roommate that elsie trusts to keep her safe and keep others safe from her. he is a professor that has earned his respect from rajan.
and he sees them as his children, he cares for them as he would care for his own and yet, not in a belittling way. they are like children to him but they are not children. they are grown and established in life adults that achieved their status in society and that cosmo respects, while caring for them like he would for his children. and it's almost as if they care and love him the same way in response. his human being does not consists only of work and his studies and they can love him like children would love their elderly parent. and they do.
and surely, we don't know what had happened in cosmo's past 'till it'd be revealed or what will happen in the future 'till it will happen next episode. but i just enjoy how likable cosmo is while being a knowledgeable and important part of the candela and the circle. i like how it's easy for the circle to like him and stick with him even when the circle bends.
and you know, that is the epitome of an actual respect, to have such an influence on people.
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Ew a male
See, that shit doesn't bother me because I never said I *wasn't* a male. Personally, I believe the distinction between Sex and Gender is real enough that using Male/Female for sex and Man/Woman for gender is valid. Some trans people disagree, and the original definition of sex from that one book from ages ago made it clear how complicated it all was, so like, I don't care to argue about it. It's just a personal thing.
Anyway, yes, I'm a male-woman. Mostly. I mean, actually, I'm something adjacent to but not quite a woman. It's quicker to say woman, but enby is probably more accurate overall.
If that hurts your brain, then you're just not smart enough to hurt my feelings.
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Temenos Mistral was no stranger to nightmares.
They were commonplace after Roi’s disappearance, only made worse after the pontiff’s murder. And now, with three other companions at his side, he could not help but conjure up horrendous outcomes that might befall them should they continue to follow him on this path.
He was no stranger to doubt, either. After Roi had disappeared so long ago, Temenos had drilled it into himself to trust no one. Only his father, the pontiff, was to be trusted. Not even the villagers could be entrusted with more than a few harmless secrets.
So when they arrived in Canalbrine and the prickles of distrust tingled under his skin, he listened well.
Though pleasantly surprised by Crick’s appearance as he was, he knew they couldn’t afford to waste anymore time there than necessary. The trail of the apothecary’s death was already running cold, colder still every moment spent at the inn.
Restlessness sank into every bone of his body, tossing and turning him about in bed, cursing him to never find a comfortable position to simply lay and sleep in. That was all he needed. He wouldn’t even complain if his sleep was dreamless. As long as he slept at all.
His nightmare was conjured in an hour of that painful, pitiful restlessness, coming to fruition when he finally managed to force sleep upon himself.
Agnea, spirited away without a trace, presumed dead by all. Another one close to him lost to his own hubris and blasphemy.
Partitio, gored by the Felvarg in the cathedral, the pontiff beside him. If Temenos had only been a little quicker in getting to him...
Hikari dying in the Montwise arena, pierced through and bleeding out. Temenos felt sick knowing he couldn’t heal him, not at that distance. Not from so far away.
Crick laying dead in a sea of white, hand clutching the note from the pontiff’s tome, the last words on his lips being Temenos’s name. Even now, he was prideful to imagine Crick would call for him with his final breath. How foolish. How arrogant.
How pathetic he was, standing by and watching his friends fall one after the other whilst he did nothing to help. Whilst he idled and lamented his grief to unhearing gods. Whilst night approached, rapid and unending.
Temenos awoke with a start to hear voices outside the inn room. They were familiar voices, though too muffled to hear fully.
“—investigate on our own—”
“—too dangerous!—”
“—no other choice—”
What were the voices planning to investigate? And on their own? Did they have another with them?
It hit him then that the beds beside him were empty of their inhabitants. Agnea was gone, her hairclip still on the night-table. Partitio’s hat was, too. Hikari’s sword was gone, however- meaning he must have been one of the voices Temenos was hearing.
“—rouse Temenos—” one voice said, and the others quickly objected. How peculiar. He was listening now, straining his ear to hear the conversation.
“Let him rest. He’s done enough for now. He deserves at least one night’s sleep in a real bed before beginning the investigation,” Agnea’s voice said, city accent still present despite her hushed tone.
“Aye. He has been a stalwart ally, and we would do well to let him rest. We four can handle it,” Hikari agreed.
“...I dunno. Won’t he be upset if we let ‘im sleep while we do all the work? He seems pretty hellbent on solvin’ this case himself...” Partitio murmured.
“We will wake him if we find anything of import. This is a small town, it would not take long. Agnea, you ought to be the one to fetch him. You are the smallest of us all, and the quietest. I have faith in your ability to move quickly and without sound,” Crick’s voice said hushedly. Temenos had to commend his little lamb- he was quite good at rationalizing when the need came.
His companions murmured their agreements, and Temenos heard no more. He presumed they had departed for Lucian’s abode, wherever it may lie in Canalbrine.
It was much to his chagrin, however, that sleep took him by the throat, pushing him under the waters of dreams once again.
Once again, he was facing the shapeless god. He could make out but a few figures beside him as he stood fast despite the danger. Partitio, Agnea, and Hikari were all at his side, weapons drawn and spirits unwavering.
The shapeless god spoke, words incoherent and painful, and he winced. It was so, so painful. The god’s voice sounded like Roi’s, then the pontiff’s, then... Another voice, one that was warbled beyond all hopes of comprehension. The tone sounded familiar, oh so familiar, but he could not place it. The words rang loud in his ears, defeaning him to all else.
When he woke for the second time, Agnea was shaking him, saying something about a murder.
GERREBEGEHEAAAAWWAAAAAAAAGH
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