[Ah, yes - an outfit looking at the stars just as much as she is. ... He's also gonna move himself a little closer, purely so he can lean his head against her shoulder.]
I'm glad you have a place where you can safely partake, then. You deserve such joys, if you ask me.
...
Does Ellipsa have constellations? There are none up there that I recognize.
[Automatically, she starts to play with his hair.]
So, Ellipsa does have a few named constellations, but actually very few? Astronomy is a very recent subject of research and most of the stars have placeholder names. There constellations there are tend to be named after monsters.
You can actually name a star or a constellation at the observatory in Coldreach, if you want. I keep thinking about it and then second-guessing myself like, what if I give a star a bad name and then it's stuck with that forever?
I hope so! I mean - okay. I recognize that stars don't have feelings as such and don't care what they're called. But I would still feel bad for them if I gave them a lousy name.
[Honestly, her empathizing with balls of gas is probably not at all surprising.]
Would it help you feel better about it if I told you I plan to plot out a constellation of M. domestica? If the stars won't feel bad about having a housefly drawn in among them, they certainly won't mind any name you wish to give them.
And, speaking as something else you've already named... I can't imagine you would pick something bad for them.
[- He turns his head to blink at her a bit, clearly surprised by the idea. A star? Named after himself?? But, well.]
... In my world - and, thus, any world that bears Earth - there was a star well known for its size and pattern as it moved across the sky. It's a well known part of Canis Major; so well known, in fact, that the star itself came to be known as "the dog star".
Should you ever hear someone talk of "the dog days of summer", it's this star they're referring to. As an aside.
But what I'm saying is - Humans have been putting canines among the stars for centuries. It would be a wonderful tradition for you to uphold, no matter where you choose to get the name. Even if it's mine.
[It is the good shit! It's also the very much needed shit. He's even gonna wrap an arm around hers.]
The majority of them? Boring. Early hominids picked apart the night sky for use in navigation - thus, the majority were things that cavemen could recognize. Bears. Wolves. Horses. Spoons.
Of the constellations, I really only care about the zodiac. To be honest with you. Not that I believe in the zodiac - but they were far more interesting than bears and spoons.
Ah - Yes, I suppose you wouldn't be, would you? The stars and constellations ought to differ world-to-world, after all... assuming the City even allowed constellations to exist. Not many people profit from them.
[Said, of course, with a little huff of amusement at his own stupid quip.]
... Back in the world of the living, the zodiac was a belt of star formations around the planet. Within them, there were twelve asterisms - it was almost perfectly spaced enough to section out the sky in twelve equal sections. Almost. I don't consider Ophiuchus among them, despite it being a serpent and thus much cooler than the rest. Some call it the "thirteen zodiac", however.
That said, depending on when were born on the planet... thanks to the way these signs were sectioned and the way the planet turned, you could be assigned one of these constellations as your "zodiac sign". You remember Chipp's terminology for the soul? The "sun" and "moon"? That is taken from the idea of these zodiac signs. You would have a "sun" sign and a "moon" sign, based on where these celestial objects were in the sky when you were born.
...
As someone born in late November, I am a Sagittarius. The constellation of which is a centaur and an archer. Chipp, born in late June. is a Cancer - his constellation is a crab.
You... ... Have you told me your birthdate, as of yet?
Then your sign would be Aquarius, the water-bearer. ... Generally, it's symbolized by a woman bearing a jug of water that she's pouring. Often, the woman in question is nude.
So, quite a fitting sign for you, I would say.
[Said, of course, as he turns his head to look at her properly instead of... staring lasers up at the stars as he has been.]
... Unfortunately, I don't believe you would have a moon sign. Or a rising sign, for that matter - the ascendant. Something else that we Grim Reapers use to refer to our cores.
But these signs are based on where you were on Earth, alongside the hour at which you were born... I don't even know these signs for myself, frankly.
Ol Siaion, there are over a dozen more signs on top of these. One for every planet, and a handful more for other points within the sky. I...
[He pauses, for a moment, and looks back up at the stars.]
... Chipp's mother gave me a book on astrology. Before she had passed. Whenever I waited for him out in the swamp, at our camping ground, I would read it and look to the stars until I had the constellations memorized.
But I never had the gall or audacity to ask my mother what hour I was born, so I never could determine any of it for myself beyond my sun sign. And I have never felt a connection to my sun sign, either.
It's... simply one more thing I have left behind in the waters of the swamp.
[Said as he flings his free arm up at them, gesturing at the sky itself.]
I ruined them for myself. Looking at them fills my mouth with the taste of blood, and my nose with the smell of seared flesh. The last time I had gone stargazing had been the night I burned the chain scars across Jean's back.
And the next time we had gone out to watch the stars together, I died with lungs filled with blood before I could even look at them.
[Yeah, that's a hard question to answer. Even though he said it isn't suffering, thanks to her being there... There's no denying the way it burns in the back of his mind, regardless.
But he still pulls her a little closer, burying his face in her hair.]
Being with you makes the pain bearable. I can't lie to you and say that it is gone in its entirety... but it's smaller, and it's bearable. Because I'm with you.
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I'm glad you have a place where you can safely partake, then. You deserve such joys, if you ask me.
...
Does Ellipsa have constellations? There are none up there that I recognize.
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So, Ellipsa does have a few named constellations, but actually very few? Astronomy is a very recent subject of research and most of the stars have placeholder names. There constellations there are tend to be named after monsters.
You can actually name a star or a constellation at the observatory in Coldreach, if you want. I keep thinking about it and then second-guessing myself like, what if I give a star a bad name and then it's stuck with that forever?
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... Hmm. Perhaps I'll plot out a good and proper asterism, then, to bring to them.
[It is 100% going to be a fly.]
You ought to give yourself more credit, though - you are a very creative person, Ol Siaion. I'm sure you'd give a star a lovely name.
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[Honestly, her empathizing with balls of gas is probably not at all surprising.]
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...
Would it help you feel better about it if I told you I plan to plot out a constellation of M. domestica?
If the stars won't feel bad about having a housefly drawn in among them, they certainly won't mind any name you wish to give them.
And, speaking as something else you've already named... I can't imagine you would pick something bad for them.
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-Oh. But, you know, since a lot of things are already named after monsters... How is Loupgarou for a star name?
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But, well.]
... In my world - and, thus, any world that bears Earth - there was a star well known for its size and pattern as it moved across the sky.
It's a well known part of Canis Major; so well known, in fact, that the star itself came to be known as "the dog star".
Should you ever hear someone talk of "the dog days of summer", it's this star they're referring to. As an aside.
But what I'm saying is -
Humans have been putting canines among the stars for centuries. It would be a wonderful tradition for you to uphold, no matter where you choose to get the name.
Even if it's mine.
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[It's his star now! That's how it works.]
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I'll do my best to live up to such an honor, then. To have a star bear my name...
[More leaning! Perhaps even cuddling.]
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I have faith in you.
What are the constellations on Earth like?
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The majority of them? Boring. Early hominids picked apart the night sky for use in navigation - thus, the majority were things that cavemen could recognize.
Bears. Wolves. Horses. Spoons.
Of the constellations, I really only care about the zodiac. To be honest with you.
Not that I believe in the zodiac - but they were far more interesting than bears and spoons.
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Yes, I suppose you wouldn't be, would you? The stars and constellations ought to differ world-to-world, after all... assuming the City even allowed constellations to exist.
Not many people profit from them.
[Said, of course, with a little huff of amusement at his own stupid quip.]
... Back in the world of the living, the zodiac was a belt of star formations around the planet. Within them, there were twelve asterisms - it was almost perfectly spaced enough to section out the sky in twelve equal sections.
Almost.
I don't consider Ophiuchus among them, despite it being a serpent and thus much cooler than the rest. Some call it the "thirteen zodiac", however.
That said, depending on when were born on the planet... thanks to the way these signs were sectioned and the way the planet turned, you could be assigned one of these constellations as your "zodiac sign".
You remember Chipp's terminology for the soul? The "sun" and "moon"?
That is taken from the idea of these zodiac signs. You would have a "sun" sign and a "moon" sign, based on where these celestial objects were in the sky when you were born.
...
As someone born in late November, I am a Sagittarius. The constellation of which is a centaur and an archer.
Chipp, born in late June. is a Cancer - his constellation is a crab.
You... ... Have you told me your birthdate, as of yet?
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Oh, I must not have, you'd remember if I had. My birthday is Valentine's Day.
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Often, the woman in question is nude.
So, quite a fitting sign for you, I would say.
[Said, of course, as he turns his head to look at her properly instead of... staring lasers up at the stars as he has been.]
... Unfortunately, I don't believe you would have a moon sign. Or a rising sign, for that matter - the ascendant.
Something else that we Grim Reapers use to refer to our cores.
But these signs are based on where you were on Earth, alongside the hour at which you were born... I don't even know these signs for myself, frankly.
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[Extremely unsurprising take.]
That sounds like a lot more of a pain to determine.
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I...
[He pauses, for a moment, and looks back up at the stars.]
... Chipp's mother gave me a book on astrology. Before she had passed.
Whenever I waited for him out in the swamp, at our camping ground, I would read it and look to the stars until I had the constellations memorized.
But I never had the gall or audacity to ask my mother what hour I was born, so I never could determine any of it for myself beyond my sun sign.
And I have never felt a connection to my sun sign, either.
It's... simply one more thing I have left behind in the waters of the swamp.
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...I'm sorry that those stars are lost to you. Even if it is just one more loss, to you.
1/2; cw: abuse, branding, death, y'know the normal stuff
[Said as he flings his free arm up at them, gesturing at the sky itself.]
I ruined them for myself. Looking at them fills my mouth with the taste of blood, and my nose with the smell of seared flesh.
The last time I had gone stargazing had been the night I burned the chain scars across Jean's back.
And the next time we had gone out to watch the stars together, I died with lungs filled with blood before I could even look at them.
2/2;
It's...
Admirable, though. That you wished to give someone like me the stars.
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I'm sorry. -You didn't have to do this for me, I don't want to make you suffer.
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... But after a moment, he returns it regardless.]
It isn't suffering. ... I'm with you.
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[That even being reminded of the moment of his death wouldn't hurt?]
did the thing where i didnt hit post again
[Yeah, that's a hard question to answer. Even though he said it isn't suffering, thanks to her being there...
There's no denying the way it burns in the back of his mind, regardless.
But he still pulls her a little closer, burying his face in her hair.]
Being with you makes the pain bearable. I can't lie to you and say that it is gone in its entirety... but it's smaller, and it's bearable.
Because I'm with you.
happens to the best of us
But I wish I could give you back the stars the way they were before. -No, I want to give them to you better than before.
alas, it absolutely does
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