Ah, Monsieur Anaxagoras, straight to the heart of the matter. How refreshing!
[He laughs, as if the accusation of idleness amuses him more than it offends.]
You are correctβ our little council has not changed course. Rashness would only serve to feed whatever game is being played with us. The others are gathering information, testing samples, and watching for patterns. We are proceeding with caution, not complacency.
[His tone turns a touch more pointed.]
But tell me, Monsieur... does prudence disappoint you? Or were you hoping for a show of desperation?
[ The same words - yet, in his entire being he always had a feeling he'd hear such things indeed.
But, Anaxagoras did not run on complete presumption. Verifying was always a necessary part of it all. All the same, he hears the tone, more pointed in his direction, and even if this is communication by conch, he takes it seriously. ]
Prudence? It feels as if within there happens to be carelessness instead. An overabundance of caution can wind up being useless and ineffective. While it is convenient that all of you can shield yourselves and we can't, I doubt that will last forever.
And try not don't make me laugh. Your actions already reek of desperation. What I was hoping for was something far more tangible in the wake of the incident. Something to grant weight to words presented to us in the aftermath of that disaster...however, clearly that didn't happen.
Is it not also instead cowardice, that to confirm this I had to chase one of you down in the first place?
[ Anaxagoras takes a breath. Despite the fact he is saying this with an edge to his tone, there is a harder rage that pushes forward. So he needs to take a moment even after that. ]
[There it is: indignation sharpened to a fine point. Lobelia listens, smiling on the other end of the conch, though something in his cadence cools the longer Anaxagoras speaks. It's not anger, precisely. More like quiet, deliberate disappointment.]
My, my... such venom for a question so mild. You wound me, Monsieur Anaxagoras.
[He exhales through his nose, faintly amused despite himself.]
But perhaps you are right. There's a line between caution and cowardice, I'll grant you that. Still, I would hardly call prudence a luxury when rashness risks feeding the same malice that swallowed one of our own. If you seek tangible action, rest assured, it's being taken. You simply may not see the shape of it yet.
Tell me, then. What would you have us do instead? Charge blindly into the jaws that devoured Monsieur Giyuu? You strike me as a man who values results, so enlighten me. How would you ensure we all live to see them?
[ Anaxagoras feels more at home with the disappointment of others, wherein others might recoil at that from strangers. Perhaps even better suited to those who are nonsensical, though more than what they appear.
But, more importantly, even in the throes and fires of his sharp-toothed fury perhaps even outrageously enhanced by the rage of the beast inside, he struggles to find his footing. He can't be properly pleased.
So, he settles himself down on the dirt, unrefined, uncomfortable. It pains him because this willingness to keep away information reminds him of Aglaea, controlling information behind the scenes, where he wishes to spread everything out for everyone to know. But, he knows she cared, maybe that's why he is here. He knows that maybe this is the same, even for Lobelia with his nonsense. ]
Tsk. You know little of myself, Lobelia [ the first time he has spoken his name ] and I of you. My experience with those in power falling short is not minimal. Yet, even now the effects of this place dares to try to sink its wretched claws deep inside.
First of all, at least one of you needs to improve your communication methods with everyone. Even if I personally won't ever agree with any methods any of you employ, everyone did have a right to know if you were sticking to your initial approach.
Not that I'm interested in doing it all for each of you. That's not my responsibility. [ Stop being sassy. ] Second of all, the first was key, so naturally it's a part of keeping morale high.
Third of all, knowledge is power. I do my best to make sure the general public knows at the very least the information behind the background of this place. From what I could tell, some of the info you all may have could help us know more. If you're all keeping yourselves from acting out of self-preservation [ he lacks it completely so he supposes he knows logically why it exists, he can struggle if it means other innocent people suffer...but he's too tsundere to say that too rip ] that's one matter.
But if someone asks you all a question about this place and there's clearly some dancing around, how is that going to keep us all from being subtly pushed into those very jaws just the same?
[There's a pause, just long enough to suggest that Lobelia is weighing his words carefully and not merely reacting. When he speaks again, his tone is calm, collected, but laced with something quieter. Understanding, perhaps, or restraint.]
So that's the heart of it. Not fear, but frustration. You wish for clarity, for unity... I can hardly fault you for that.
[He exhales, a sound closer to a sigh than a laugh.]
Communication, oui. I'll concede that much. Our little council could do better in keeping others apprised. You have my word, Monsieur, that I'll see to that. As for information, whatever knowledge we have will reach you, if it hasn't already. No hoarding, no secrecy for secrecy's sake.
[He lets that assurance linger a moment before continuing, tone turning sharper.]
But know this: there's a difference between careful stewardship and blind transparency. Some truths, once spoken, cannot be unspoken. And I'd rather the jaws you speak of find me first than see another soul dragged in because I spoke too soon.
[The last words soften, his usual warmth slipping back in.]
Still... your conviction does you credit, Anaxagoras. Keep speaking plainly. Heaven knows this place could use more voices unwilling to whisper.
Anaxagoras supposes he should have expected if he were to be honest and candid that people would recognize that. Some of the people here are proving to be rather unique. Or rather, it is perhaps he has to get used to dealing with people being not delusional.
He wasn't afraid of being angry at. Not by far. Lobelia has his own points as well, steel reflective in that tone, but is clearly the thoughtful type. Understanding, though not completely bending, either.
He closes his one remaining eye after the expression of shock ebbs away to something calm. ]
I see...I accept this compromise.
Though do realize I would rather you nor anyone else be found in the jaws of anything.
[ He still sounds a bit more surprised, letting out a sigh of his own. He reminds himself that this is not the Council. Nor the Grove. ]
I do also understand better now.
...Even if we'll still clash in some ways, I imagine. [ A slight huff, a little light to keep the mood as much even if he tends to grump his way through. ] However, I can sense your drive. In your own way you're earnest as well.
I will also indeed still remain unfailingly forthright in who I am and speak plainly even if it means my end. Whispering is not my modus operandi, you'll find.
And rest assured, Monsieur, the sentiment is mutual. I'd prefer you remain well clear of any jaws, literal or otherwise. You strike me as the sort who would chew back, and I'd hate to witness the aftermath.
[He chuckles on the other end, fond and sharp in equal measure.]
Clash with me if you must. I welcome it. Better an honest blow than a polite lie, but don't mistake disagreement for discord. If you speak plainly and stand your ground, I will always answer in kind.
Whispering, after all, has never been my style either.
A rarity? ...So it is, then. We're somehow aligned.
[ Anaxagoras hopes that this remains the case...but, you know what, he's not necessarily a pessimist, even if he is realistic. He's actually slightly more of an optimist, really... ]
...Oh, we'll still have reasons to clash. [ A little smirk, that's actually sassy, but kind of in maybe a positive way. ] Though, it seems it may be for better reasons.
When we first crossed paths, I did recall how loud you are.
Trying to imagine you whispering like a mouse would be odd. I'd even start to wonder if you had been replaced.
[Lobelia lets out a laugh. He can practically hear that smirk on the other end of the conch.]
Oh, loud, was I? Then I must have made quite the impression. I'll take it as a compliment. Most men shout without purpose, but I like to think I make noise only when it's worth hearing.
And yes... a rarity. Not because we agree, but because you stand your ground while doing so. Most balk the moment you push back. You didn't. That alone earns my respect, whether we're aligned today or clawing at each other tomorrow.
[ Oh, it is certainly true. Anaxagoras does remember being all too cranky at that time, but then he had a mind to come here half because of that...being exceptionally cranky, all the while. ]
Hmm. Now is a good time to say that I'm hardly surprised by the audacity. Though, it's true you did make an impression.
Even if I was annoyed by it. Don't let it go too much to your head.
[ Sharpening one's wit, was it? Anaxagoras is the type of man who can't help but want to rise to the challenge when he is so inclined.
But, also a rarity, he says? Anaxagoras considers this carefully. He can't help in being curious about it, just a little. ]
Perhaps because people assume 'agreement' means full subservience, when the reality is quite a bit more complicated than that.
...However, I also have to ask:
Are you speaking from personal experience, Lobelia?
[Some will call him audacious, others a menace, a problem, a monster. It matters little to Lobelia which label he's slapped with. He'll continue marching to the beat of his own drum regardless, just as he always has.
In either case, he's not unwilling to meet reasonable folk halfway. Anaxagoras is sharp-tongued and keen-eyed, but Lobelia likes that about him. Perhaps that's why he's willing to answer honestly, humming on the other end of the conch.]
Ah... personal experience? Bien sΓ»r. There is no sharper lesson than watching a man crumble the moment you push back. You learn quickly who has a spine, and who merely pretends at one.
[ Anaxagoras lends a close ear, hearing Lobelia speak of lessons on this particular matter - much as the man is who he is, the spark of curiosity that reigned is still lit. Perhaps indeed for him holding that confident and playful tone, there is that side of quick wit as well.
Evidence of those layers that makeup what Lobelia is. And who knows what more is there to discover? ]
A fragile will is a dangerous thing. The world is not too kind to those who have forgotten what it means to stand on their own two feet in the face of adversity.
Those who can't forge a proper spine of their own simply are bound to lose it entirely.
[ He taught his students to debate against him. To give higher marks when they dare challenge his own ideas, like he did his teacher's. ]
People do not truly learn, if they are unwilling to ever push back or know to stand up after being sent to their feet. I suppose that is why even I hardly tolerated it much. Although...talking on this much with you, I have a suspicion you would have driven your teachers up a wall.
[Ah, there it is again... Anaxagoras's spine, straight as a blade. Lobelia can almost taste the steel of it. He hums low in approval.]
You speak as though fragility is a sin. Perhaps it is. But I've found that most men who call others fragile are terrified of being seen for what they are. Push them once and they collapse... or they bare their teeth. Either is just as revealing.
As for teachers... mon ami, I assure you, they tried. I simply learned too quickly how to push back before I stopped listening to them altogether. It is a useful skill. One you clearly possess as well.
[ ...As expected, this man is up to something, isn't he? Curious, but also not simply allowing himself to jump to the other subject, Anaxagoras turns his attention back to this with ease. He's at the ready, because it is a natural of course, after all. ]
Don't be ridiculous.
I speak on fragility as it exists within people. The mind is unique and vast, and no person is the same. If those who falter easily do not rise to acknowledge that weak part of them can be a guide to inner strength or at all, that will be it; and there are those who simply can't.
Bear in mind it is also the same with everyone else. They will collapse in on themselves.
It is a harsh truth that many can't accept, and those that do not often find themselves struggling just the same with their own delusions. Which, of course, is not difficult to witness on how.
For as much is to be said about those who dare to push back against others, and their teachers...it is not typically liable to make people fond of them.
Though, not many are able to necessarily handle certain personalities.
Tsk, mon ami... you mistake me if you think I deny the mind its labyrinth. Fragility is not a failing to me. It is a doorway.
The ones who collapse in on themselves reveal the hollow places. The ones who rise illuminate their steel. Either way, it tells me precisely who I am dealing with.
You, for instance. You speak of weakness with such clarity, neither flinching from it nor clinging to it. That is exceedingly rare. Most men scramble to hide their cracks, yet you map them as though they belong to a constellation only you can read. Très fascinant.
As for those who cannot handle certain personalities...
[His smile curves, his mirth audible.]
Well. I find that those who profess such difficulty often lack imagination. Or courage. Sometimes both.
[ Anaxagoras hadn't imagined he might feel some of that mirth himself, hearing this - yes, the first half of that made reasonable amount of sense. In fragility, in someone's collapse, their true self can be revealed - especially so after they rise back to their feet. But, there's more to it.
Such that Lobelia also then speaks of him, in particular. That he's...fascinated by him? ]
Haha! You do realize not many people would call myself that? Fascinating, that is. Especially after saying what could be construed as fighting words.
...But, also you saw right to the heart of it. How many can manage that?
[ The word Lobelia used is also close enough to what he's seen he can make a connection - though, not always. It has to be related, right? It's even surprising to him. A Blasphemer being called as such; but, it's not unpleasant...the audacity of this man. ]
'Lack imagination, courage, or both'...
If it were a matter of a difference of opinion, it'd be their prerogative. My experience typically shows that such people tend to handle such individuals with little grace as well. Do you consider that it means they add a challenge to our lives, or are not worth even that kind of acknowledgement?
[Lobelia smiles when Anaxagoras laughs. Unexpected, yes, but certainly not unwelcome. There's something refreshing in seeing Anaxagoras loosen, even by a fraction. Fragility yielding steel, steel yielding mirth... quite beautiful when one stops to consider it.]
Fascinating, oui, And accurate. You see with far greater clarity than most. Few can look upon their own weaknesses without flinching, and fewer still can rise from them and speak so plainly about what lies beneath.
Lack of imagination, courage, or both? That depends on the individual, n'est-ce pas? Some people shrink from discomfort, and thus cannot comprehend those who don't. Others see only a mirror they dislike.
But you ask whether it is a challenge, or worth acknowledgment.
[His pitch shifts, warm and sharply edged in equal measure.]
Oui. It is a challengeβ one I welcome. And as for acknowledgment... you've earned more than most simply by daring to look inward without fear.
[ Sometimes even Anaxagoras has his moments - grumpy as he is, sparks of that genuine self that could give into such reactions are visible as clear as day, like a spark of light peering through the clouds. Even if it may go under once more.
Lobelia offers his own challenge...refreshing, though not overwhelming or unpleasant. It's full of life all on its own. Like someone who has turned a new page, but still determined to be himself. ]
I'd imagine it was life's experiences that allows myself this level of clarity - wisdom cultivated by time itself. But, then again...longevity is not always a guarantee for being able to hold proper insight.
[ Anaxagoras' mind easily turns towards the imagery of those within the Grove. All the while witnessing the dichotomy of warmth and sharpness from Lobelia, the excited pitch in tone - the tone sincerely catching his attention with ease. ]
...Do I now? [ He says softly, considering. ] It's true that people would turn away from the idea readily and swiftly - from discomfort, from a reflection, and...ultimately their inner truth.
Even if it is ironic, isn't it? People talk often about the fear of the unknown.
Yet, fewer still make much noise about the fear of being known, even if it is, without a doubt inherent and true. [ A little smirk returns, evidently continuing to enjoy this bit of verbal back and forth. ] As such, I may not be be always readily inclined to give praise. I would hardly be worth my salt if I were.
...but acknowledgment in turn is reasonable enough. Delving deep into the psyche is not for the faint of heart. Though, you hold your own against someone who is an expert on the subject. Even my fellow so-called associates at the Grove stumbled in that.
Longevity, oui, is no guarantee of wisdom. Some live centuries and never once dare to peel back even a corner of themselves... yet you speak of your own mind without trembling. That is rare, Monsieur. Rare enough to earn my interest, and rarer still to earn my respect.
You wear your truth like armor. And you wield it like a blade.
[Anaxagoras is a deeply complex man, and as such, Lobelia can't help but be fascinated by him. It's a delight to speak with him, to peel back the layers of that razor-sharp mind.]
As for holding my own against an expert of the psyche... you give me too much credit, Monsieur. I merely find the human mind β your mind in particular β an endlessly fascinating instrument.
And I've always had a fondness for instruments that sing when pressed.
[ Anaxagoras is quiet for a moment. He can't level his gaze at Lobelia at this point in time, but if he had been, it'd be with a searching one to try to pick apart his expression as he is wont to do.
He realizes that even for what he has been thinking, he's simply a little surprised as they continue to speak. ]
...Hmph, you do know, you speak of my own mind - of my own fortitude, and the rarity of earning respect from you in of itself. In cultivating your it already...
[ He clears his throat. ]
Though, I can't say I've ever really found myself at the forefront of much praise before - all at once.
Tsk. It has not gone without notice. It's as if you put your mind to hardly wasting a single sound with far too much ease...I wonder if you're the type to even have a preference for performances. Or the stage, perhaps.
[ He places such thought into his words that they sound like a musical in of themselves; like songs. He shakes his head for a moment. Is it because he's used to condemnations instead? But...even though this is their second conversation, a change of pace is vastly preferable to the old, and... ]
...That being said, as much as I'm inclined to wield truth like a blade, I hope to also use it to blow obstacles to smithereens. I wonder if you have ever imagined a sword that can change into a weapon that blows away all delusion.
Can you picture that in your mind's eye, Lobelia?
It will be exactly what I will use to put to rest the enemy.
[There it is again: that razor-bright mind cutting through its own hesitation. Fascinating. Truly fascinating.]
Mon ami... you speak as though I have showered you in praise, when all I have done is name what is plainly before me. If it surprises you, perhaps that says more of your past company than of yourself.
You ask if I have a taste for the stage? Mais bien sΓ»r. A performer lives for a keen audience, someone who listens so closely that even the quietest note resonates. You listen too well not to enjoy performance in turn.
As for your sword... mm. A blade that becomes truth incarnate, that cuts through delusion and blasts obstacles to dust... Oui. I can picture it clearly. Because you already wield such a weapon.
You speak of forging a sword, Monsieur, but I suspect you have been carrying it all along.
[ Correct. His previous experiences colored his view; enough that he considers the words, smiling ruefully - yet...maybe that's why he needs to hear it as well.
But also, Anaxagoras the Great Performer...that is another title that existed (exists) for him. Just as Anaxagoras read Lobelia well, it seems in turn the man read him.
Performances are glorious things, they set alight the soul, and uplift the spirit. ]
It's ironic. Though, I'm certain that they wouldn't take well to your whimsical attitude all that much, you sometimes speak as of you hail from Kremnos.
It all has relation. Figurative blades forged in words, and one forged from the soul...I wonder what you believe it would look like. I'll leave myself purposefully in suspense for now.
Yet, be it as it may, you're also right about performances. There is much to be found in a good stage, a keen and attentive audience...
[ A laugh almost bubbles up in his throat, though for now it is a light huff. Then, he realizes just how much time he has taken, sitting here, standing up to his feet with a dramatic flourish. ]
I believe that I don't need to say anymore, correct?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[He laughs, as if the accusation of idleness amuses him more than it offends.]
You are correctβ our little council has not changed course. Rashness would only serve to feed whatever game is being played with us. The others are gathering information, testing samples, and watching for patterns. We are proceeding with caution, not complacency.
[His tone turns a touch more pointed.]
But tell me, Monsieur... does prudence disappoint you? Or were you hoping for a show of desperation?
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But, Anaxagoras did not run on complete presumption. Verifying was always a necessary part of it all. All the same, he hears the tone, more pointed in his direction, and even if this is communication by conch, he takes it seriously. ]
Prudence? It feels as if within there happens to be carelessness instead. An overabundance of caution can wind up being useless and ineffective. While it is convenient that all of you can shield yourselves and we can't, I doubt that will last forever.
And try not don't make me laugh. Your actions already reek of desperation. What I was hoping for was something far more tangible in the wake of the incident. Something to grant weight to words presented to us in the aftermath of that disaster...however, clearly that didn't happen.
Is it not also instead cowardice, that to confirm this I had to chase one of you down in the first place?
[ Anaxagoras takes a breath. Despite the fact he is saying this with an edge to his tone, there is a harder rage that pushes forward. So he needs to take a moment even after that. ]
...Not that I'm pleased with the results, mind.
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My, my... such venom for a question so mild. You wound me, Monsieur Anaxagoras.
[He exhales through his nose, faintly amused despite himself.]
But perhaps you are right. There's a line between caution and cowardice, I'll grant you that. Still, I would hardly call prudence a luxury when rashness risks feeding the same malice that swallowed one of our own. If you seek tangible action, rest assured, it's being taken. You simply may not see the shape of it yet.
Tell me, then. What would you have us do instead? Charge blindly into the jaws that devoured Monsieur Giyuu? You strike me as a man who values results, so enlighten me. How would you ensure we all live to see them?
no one asked for this lecture
But, more importantly, even in the throes and fires of his sharp-toothed fury perhaps even outrageously enhanced by the rage of the beast inside, he struggles to find his footing. He can't be properly pleased.
So, he settles himself down on the dirt, unrefined, uncomfortable. It pains him because this willingness to keep away information reminds him of Aglaea, controlling information behind the scenes, where he wishes to spread everything out for everyone to know. But, he knows she cared, maybe that's why he is here. He knows that maybe this is the same, even for Lobelia with his nonsense. ]
Tsk. You know little of myself, Lobelia [ the first time he has spoken his name ] and I of you. My experience with those in power falling short is not minimal. Yet, even now the effects of this place dares to try to sink its wretched claws deep inside.
First of all, at least one of you needs to improve your communication methods with everyone. Even if I personally won't ever agree with any methods any of you employ, everyone did have a right to know if you were sticking to your initial approach.
Not that I'm interested in doing it all for each of you. That's not my responsibility. [ Stop being sassy. ] Second of all, the first was key, so naturally it's a part of keeping morale high.
Third of all, knowledge is power. I do my best to make sure the general public knows at the very least the information behind the background of this place. From what I could tell, some of the info you all may have could help us know more. If you're all keeping yourselves from acting out of self-preservation [ he lacks it completely so he supposes he knows logically why it exists, he can struggle if it means other innocent people suffer...but he's too tsundere to say that too rip ] that's one matter.
But if someone asks you all a question about this place and there's clearly some dancing around, how is that going to keep us all from being subtly pushed into those very jaws just the same?
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So that's the heart of it. Not fear, but frustration. You wish for clarity, for unity... I can hardly fault you for that.
[He exhales, a sound closer to a sigh than a laugh.]
Communication, oui. I'll concede that much. Our little council could do better in keeping others apprised. You have my word, Monsieur, that I'll see to that. As for information, whatever knowledge we have will reach you, if it hasn't already. No hoarding, no secrecy for secrecy's sake.
[He lets that assurance linger a moment before continuing, tone turning sharper.]
But know this: there's a difference between careful stewardship and blind transparency. Some truths, once spoken, cannot be unspoken. And I'd rather the jaws you speak of find me first than see another soul dragged in because I spoke too soon.
[The last words soften, his usual warmth slipping back in.]
Still... your conviction does you credit, Anaxagoras. Keep speaking plainly. Heaven knows this place could use more voices unwilling to whisper.
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Anaxagoras supposes he should have expected if he were to be honest and candid that people would recognize that. Some of the people here are proving to be rather unique. Or rather, it is perhaps he has to get used to dealing with people being not delusional.
He wasn't afraid of being angry at. Not by far. Lobelia has his own points as well, steel reflective in that tone, but is clearly the thoughtful type. Understanding, though not completely bending, either.
He closes his one remaining eye after the expression of shock ebbs away to something calm. ]
I see...I accept this compromise.
Though do realize I would rather you nor anyone else be found in the jaws of anything.
[ He still sounds a bit more surprised, letting out a sigh of his own. He reminds himself that this is not the Council. Nor the Grove. ]
I do also understand better now.
...Even if we'll still clash in some ways, I imagine. [ A slight huff, a little light to keep the mood as much even if he tends to grump his way through. ] However, I can sense your drive. In your own way you're earnest as well.
I will also indeed still remain unfailingly forthright in who I am and speak plainly even if it means my end. Whispering is not my modus operandi, you'll find.
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And rest assured, Monsieur, the sentiment is mutual. I'd prefer you remain well clear of any jaws, literal or otherwise. You strike me as the sort who would chew back, and I'd hate to witness the aftermath.
[He chuckles on the other end, fond and sharp in equal measure.]
Clash with me if you must. I welcome it. Better an honest blow than a polite lie, but don't mistake disagreement for discord. If you speak plainly and stand your ground, I will always answer in kind.
Whispering, after all, has never been my style either.
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[ Anaxagoras hopes that this remains the case...but, you know what, he's not necessarily a pessimist, even if he is realistic. He's actually slightly more of an optimist, really... ]
...Oh, we'll still have reasons to clash. [ A little smirk, that's actually sassy, but kind of in maybe a positive way. ] Though, it seems it may be for better reasons.
When we first crossed paths, I did recall how loud you are.
Trying to imagine you whispering like a mouse would be odd. I'd even start to wonder if you had been replaced.
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Oh, loud, was I? Then I must have made quite the impression. I'll take it as a compliment. Most men shout without purpose, but I like to think I make noise only when it's worth hearing.
And yes... a rarity. Not because we agree, but because you stand your ground while doing so. Most balk the moment you push back. You didn't. That alone earns my respect, whether we're aligned today or clawing at each other tomorrow.
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Hmm. Now is a good time to say that I'm hardly surprised by the audacity. Though, it's true you did make an impression.
Even if I was annoyed by it. Don't let it go too much to your head.
[ Sharpening one's wit, was it? Anaxagoras is the type of man who can't help but want to rise to the challenge when he is so inclined.
But, also a rarity, he says? Anaxagoras considers this carefully. He can't help in being curious about it, just a little. ]
Perhaps because people assume 'agreement' means full subservience, when the reality is quite a bit more complicated than that.
...However, I also have to ask:
Are you speaking from personal experience, Lobelia?
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In either case, he's not unwilling to meet reasonable folk halfway. Anaxagoras is sharp-tongued and keen-eyed, but Lobelia likes that about him. Perhaps that's why he's willing to answer honestly, humming on the other end of the conch.]
Ah... personal experience? Bien sΓ»r. There is no sharper lesson than watching a man crumble the moment you push back. You learn quickly who has a spine, and who merely pretends at one.
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Evidence of those layers that makeup what Lobelia is. And who knows what more is there to discover? ]
A fragile will is a dangerous thing. The world is not too kind to those who have forgotten what it means to stand on their own two feet in the face of adversity.
Those who can't forge a proper spine of their own simply are bound to lose it entirely.
[ He taught his students to debate against him. To give higher marks when they dare challenge his own ideas, like he did his teacher's. ]
People do not truly learn, if they are unwilling to ever push back or know to stand up after being sent to their feet. I suppose that is why even I hardly tolerated it much. Although...talking on this much with you, I have a suspicion you would have driven your teachers up a wall.
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You speak as though fragility is a sin. Perhaps it is. But I've found that most men who call others fragile are terrified of being seen for what they are. Push them once and they collapse... or they bare their teeth. Either is just as revealing.
As for teachers... mon ami, I assure you, they tried. I simply learned too quickly how to push back before I stopped listening to them altogether. It is a useful skill. One you clearly possess as well.
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Don't be ridiculous.
I speak on fragility as it exists within people. The mind is unique and vast, and no person is the same. If those who falter easily do not rise to acknowledge that weak part of them can be a guide to inner strength or at all, that will be it; and there are those who simply can't.
Bear in mind it is also the same with everyone else. They will collapse in on themselves.
It is a harsh truth that many can't accept, and those that do not often find themselves struggling just the same with their own delusions. Which, of course, is not difficult to witness on how.
For as much is to be said about those who dare to push back against others, and their teachers...it is not typically liable to make people fond of them.
Though, not many are able to necessarily handle certain personalities.
[ There is perhaps irony in that too. ]
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The ones who collapse in on themselves reveal the hollow places. The ones who rise illuminate their steel. Either way, it tells me precisely who I am dealing with.
You, for instance. You speak of weakness with such clarity, neither flinching from it nor clinging to it. That is exceedingly rare. Most men scramble to hide their cracks, yet you map them as though they belong to a constellation only you can read. Très fascinant.
As for those who cannot handle certain personalities...
[His smile curves, his mirth audible.]
Well. I find that those who profess such difficulty often lack imagination. Or courage. Sometimes both.
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Such that Lobelia also then speaks of him, in particular. That he's...fascinated by him? ]
Haha! You do realize not many people would call myself that? Fascinating, that is. Especially after saying what could be construed as fighting words.
...But, also you saw right to the heart of it. How many can manage that?
[ The word Lobelia used is also close enough to what he's seen he can make a connection - though, not always. It has to be related, right? It's even surprising to him. A Blasphemer being called as such; but, it's not unpleasant...the audacity of this man. ]
'Lack imagination, courage, or both'...
If it were a matter of a difference of opinion, it'd be their prerogative. My experience typically shows that such people tend to handle such individuals with little grace as well. Do you consider that it means they add a challenge to our lives, or are not worth even that kind of acknowledgement?
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Fascinating, oui, And accurate. You see with far greater clarity than most. Few can look upon their own weaknesses without flinching, and fewer still can rise from them and speak so plainly about what lies beneath.
Lack of imagination, courage, or both? That depends on the individual, n'est-ce pas? Some people shrink from discomfort, and thus cannot comprehend those who don't. Others see only a mirror they dislike.
But you ask whether it is a challenge, or worth acknowledgment.
[His pitch shifts, warm and sharply edged in equal measure.]
Oui. It is a challengeβ one I welcome. And as for acknowledgment... you've earned more than most simply by daring to look inward without fear.
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Lobelia offers his own challenge...refreshing, though not overwhelming or unpleasant. It's full of life all on its own. Like someone who has turned a new page, but still determined to be himself. ]
I'd imagine it was life's experiences that allows myself this level of clarity - wisdom cultivated by time itself. But, then again...longevity is not always a guarantee for being able to hold proper insight.
[ Anaxagoras' mind easily turns towards the imagery of those within the Grove. All the while witnessing the dichotomy of warmth and sharpness from Lobelia, the excited pitch in tone - the tone sincerely catching his attention with ease. ]
...Do I now? [ He says softly, considering. ] It's true that people would turn away from the idea readily and swiftly - from discomfort, from a reflection, and...ultimately their inner truth.
Even if it is ironic, isn't it? People talk often about the fear of the unknown.
Yet, fewer still make much noise about the fear of being known, even if it is, without a doubt inherent and true. [ A little smirk returns, evidently continuing to enjoy this bit of verbal back and forth. ] As such, I may not be be always readily inclined to give praise. I would hardly be worth my salt if I were.
...but acknowledgment in turn is reasonable enough. Delving deep into the psyche is not for the faint of heart. Though, you hold your own against someone who is an expert on the subject. Even my fellow so-called associates at the Grove stumbled in that.
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You are correct, of course. People fear the unknown, but the fear of being known runs far deeper. To be seen clearly, to be stripped of prΓ©texte and laid bare, is a terror most would sooner swallow their own tongues than confront.
But you?
You wear your truth like armor. And you wield it like a blade.
[Anaxagoras is a deeply complex man, and as such, Lobelia can't help but be fascinated by him. It's a delight to speak with him, to peel back the layers of that razor-sharp mind.]
As for holding my own against an expert of the psyche... you give me too much credit, Monsieur. I merely find the human mind β your mind in particular β an endlessly fascinating instrument.
And I've always had a fondness for instruments that sing when pressed.
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He realizes that even for what he has been thinking, he's simply a little surprised as they continue to speak. ]
...Hmph, you do know, you speak of my own mind - of my own fortitude, and the rarity of earning respect from you in of itself. In cultivating your it already...
[ He clears his throat. ]
Though, I can't say I've ever really found myself at the forefront of much praise before - all at once.
Tsk. It has not gone without notice. It's as if you put your mind to hardly wasting a single sound with far too much ease...I wonder if you're the type to even have a preference for performances. Or the stage, perhaps.
[ He places such thought into his words that they sound like a musical in of themselves; like songs. He shakes his head for a moment. Is it because he's used to condemnations instead? But...even though this is their second conversation, a change of pace is vastly preferable to the old, and... ]
...That being said, as much as I'm inclined to wield truth like a blade, I hope to also use it to blow obstacles to smithereens. I wonder if you have ever imagined a sword that can change into a weapon that blows away all delusion.
Can you picture that in your mind's eye, Lobelia?
It will be exactly what I will use to put to rest the enemy.
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Mon ami... you speak as though I have showered you in praise, when all I have done is name what is plainly before me. If it surprises you, perhaps that says more of your past company than of yourself.
You ask if I have a taste for the stage? Mais bien sΓ»r. A performer lives for a keen audience, someone who listens so closely that even the quietest note resonates. You listen too well not to enjoy performance in turn.
As for your sword... mm. A blade that becomes truth incarnate, that cuts through delusion and blasts obstacles to dust... Oui. I can picture it clearly. Because you already wield such a weapon.
You speak of forging a sword, Monsieur, but I suspect you have been carrying it all along.
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But also, Anaxagoras the Great Performer...that is another title that existed (exists) for him. Just as Anaxagoras read Lobelia well, it seems in turn the man read him.
Performances are glorious things, they set alight the soul, and uplift the spirit. ]
It's ironic. Though, I'm certain that they wouldn't take well to your whimsical attitude all that much, you sometimes speak as of you hail from Kremnos.
It all has relation. Figurative blades forged in words, and one forged from the soul...I wonder what you believe it would look like. I'll leave myself purposefully in suspense for now.
Yet, be it as it may, you're also right about performances. There is much to be found in a good stage, a keen and attentive audience...
[ A laugh almost bubbles up in his throat, though for now it is a light huff. Then, he realizes just how much time he has taken, sitting here, standing up to his feet with a dramatic flourish. ]
I believe that I don't need to say anymore, correct?