[Byleth sat down across from Claude and picked up the menu, but didn't look at it quite yet, since he felt Claude's question deserved his undivided attention.]
...my thoughts...
[Excuse the pause. Byleth.exe is trying to process his feelings on the matter into something vaguely coherent.]
If we're to be honest, then... the situation regarding Manon makes me uneasy. It feels like a trap to me, that we're being set up as part of some convoluted scheme that'll bite us further down the road. Whether it is Zenith's, Meridian's, or a third party's, I cannot say.
[He set the menu down.]
That may be my own stress causing me to feel unduly paranoid, though. It's not based on any evidence, only gut feeling. [...] There's a lot about this situation I dislike. Additionally, I spoke to Yima during the Communion, and that conversation was... frustrating, for many reasons.
[Claude can't disagree with Byleth's assessment of the situation, but he's also not too worried about it... At least not yet. He's intrigued at the mention of Yima, though, propping his chin on his hand and leaning forward a little as he listens.]
Oh, I had a chat with her too. It was pretty illuminating, actually. [But not at all frustrating, if his nonchalance is anything to go by.] What'd you talk about?
Why she insists on cooperation when conflict is inevitable.
[Byleth picked up the menu again, idly scanning it.]
It seemed disingenuous to me, as the race for the Oracles will inevitably set Zenith and Meridian on opposite sides. The Manon Dilemma, as well, does not reflect her public desire for peace: Zenith and Meridian likely frequently assassinate each other's members. They're our opponents, not our allies. I don't understand the logic.
[........well, he said he'd be honest, so...]
And then she... said something that made me lose my temper, so I cut the conversation short. In all, it was a disatisfying conversation.
Must've been pretty hard-hitting, to get a rise out of someone as unflappable as you.
[So he says, but he knows Byleth can react to things in the moment just as much as anyone. It sounds like it was personal, so he decides not to press the matter.]
Let me think about how to explain this... [He sits back again, scratching his beard.] Meridian and Zenith are like Fódlan used to be before the war. The peace was tenuous at best, neighbours could interfere with one another, unexplained incidents could wipe out noble lines or make important people disappear overnight. But on the surface, me, Dimitri and Edelgard had to make nice together at school, because the future of Fódlan hinged on that peace.
Of course, if I'd known Edelgard was the Flame Emperor all along, I might've looked at things differently. But even before I knew her real intentions, we were always going to be rivals with a long history of conflicts, big or small, between our nations. Does that make sense?
[He hopes so; it's not exactly straightforward information for a sheltered mercenary, but comparing it to home might help.]
The same could be said for the Church of Seiros. They claimed to have all kind of noble ideas of peace and stability for Fódlan, but they did all kinds of shady things behind the scenes, to the detriment of everyone. For better or for worse, wielding power tends to involve offering a hand out to peace, all while hiding the knife behind your back. That's just how it is.
Truthfully, he never paid any attention to the politics of Fódlan even after the war had broken out. Jeralt was the one who had to sense where the wind was blowing, to sniff out where the best jobs would crop up next because Sir So-and-So hated Count What'shisface and so sent catpaws (mercenaries) to duke it out in the middle of the woods to decide who was right - but discreetly, because publicly they were the best of friends, the strongest of allies, they would never have a disagreement!
It was, as Jeralt would sigh:]
Oh. [Byleth made an enlightened noise.] It's "noble bullshit".
[Claude raises an eyebrow at that blunt assessment, then lets out a laugh and nods.]
Yeah. That sort of thing isn't confined just to Fódlan, I guess. Then you have nations like Almyra, where the common belief was always might making right... I'm sure something like that is a lot easier for a mercenary to understand. But the Church's influence in Fódlan, preaching peaceful coexistence amongst believers, meant everything had to be done a lot more discreetly.
[Not that Almyra's way of doing things was any better, but at least it wasn't as complicated, even with all the court intrigue.]
Zenith and Meridian don't have a shared religion or anything, but they do have to depend on one another to survive, to some extent. So their hands are tied in some similar ways that kept the balance of power in Fódlan in check.
I see... but, what I don't understand is that the cooperation is only temporary. With us both pursuing the Oracles for our own reasons, it'll force us both into more open conflict, which everyone acknowledges. It feels... it's...
[Byleth paused, clearly struggling to put his feelings into coherent words. He let out a short breath - frustration.]
As a mercenary, I've done many unscrupulous things to survive. I understand that it's an unavoidable part of living. We all must take lives to prolong our own, and honour is worthless to a corpse. Still, there're some principles I try to stick to, if only so I can live my life with as few regrets as I can. One of those is never betraying an ally, it's a line I refuse to cross. Yet, this... attempting to reach an alliance of sorts with Zenith, all while expecting to fight them eventually... it skirts close to that, doesn't it?
"Alliance" is something of a... loaded word. Take it from the former leader of Leicester. Yes, all the noble houses banded together to survive, but they were still vying for their own self-interests at the same time. Count Gloucester, for instance... He sent his son to watch me like a hawk, because Gloucester had one eye square on the leadership of the Alliance, all while he had a foot in the door of the Empire. Of course, he was worried I was the one who would betray the Alliance, so in his mind, it was the right course of action over blind faith.
Ideals like being noble in deed and loyal to one's word are all very well and good for Faerghus storybooks, but they usually don't translate to the real world. And if they do...
[He grimaces, his expression distant as he recalls a memory better forgotten. Well, no need to bring that up here.]
I digress. I think your view of things is admirable, Byleth, but loyalty doesn't really have any place in an arena where you can never be sure of your ally's true intentions.
[Byleth actually started to frown, his lack of comprehension evident. He understood in a way, he did. Mercenary bands occasionally worked together to achieve a singular purpose - but the selfishness of such an action was always stated plainly between parties. They weren't 'alliances', they were 'favours'. Taking a contract for a client wasn't an 'alliance', that was just 'business'. Jeralt made sure Byleth understood that.
"How do I explain... a true ally is like a friend," Jeralt had said long ago. So, Byleth had used that as a handrail. An ally is a friend, and you do not betray friends. It was straightforward and simple, and he was beginning to realise maybe it was too simple. In the face of Claude's explanation, and the realisation that 'alliances' were tainted by that 'noble bullshit', it made Byleth feel more than a little stupid.]
Me, friends with those old farts at the roundtable...? [When Claude laughs this time, it's actually genuine, like Byleth had said something hilarious. He wipes at the corner of his eye a little and shakes his head.] Oh, no, no. I got along well enough with some of them. Count Ordelia out of the other great lords, for instance. Judith, Holst... but my friends amongst the lords for many years were few and far between.
[Count Gloucester was the most extreme example among them, but they all had friction.]
Remember, these are all people with competing local interests. Gloucester had the Empire hounding his doorstep. House Goneril had Almyra looming on theirs. I was some young upstart with unknown origins or intentions. You can pretend to be friends in those circumstances, but would it really be genuine? Friendship is built on trust. Alliances are built on trust... but also convenience.
[Byleth's response was stiff, if only because he felt so embarrassed at misunderstanding something that was apparently extremely obvious to everyone else. He didn't understand, though. Jeralt had told him...
...
...had Byleth taken his words too literally? Or had Jeralt lied to him? Oversimplified, because he thought Byleth wouldn't understand? He felt stung at the thought, but he didn't know where the hurt was directed towards.]
This is why I lived in the woods. People are too difficult. [He pointedly looked down at the menu.] Are you ready to order?
Ah, yeah. [The amusement dies down in Claude's expression-- it had been funny, but he hadn't intended to be unkind, or to make Byleth feel foolish. He scans over the menu.]
[Byleth made a noise of acknowledgement, and he flagged a passing staff member down to deliver their orders. While Claude went for the tea, Byleth ordered a rooibos tea and... at least three different cakes, ranging from mild (lemon and poppyseed) to pure decadence (triple chocolate cake with cream).]
We can share the food. [he said, as the staff member walked off to fulfil their order.] Also, I forgot to say: thank you for clarifying. I'll not lie and say I fully accept the explanation, but I know you only wish for me to avoid being tricked in some way.
Sure. [Cake isn't really on his mind right now, but he's happy to let Byleth indulge himself.]
And yeah, I do. Things here are only going to get more complicated from here on out, and you don't want Zenith running circles around you. Nor should you waste your breath getting mad at people who aren't going to listen to you anyway.
[He could say that to a lot of Meridian, but it's Byleth in particular he wants to understand the situation. He has a sharp mind -- it's just an inexperienced one that needs pointing in the right direction.]
I didn't intend to let Yima provoke me... but I understand. I'll be careful.
[...he abruptly huffed out an amused noise.]
This was meant to be an outing where I would support you for once, Claude, but again it's you looking out for me. [He tilted his head slightly.] Are you certain I was your teacher, and not the other way round?
Ahaha. I did wonder why they hired you to begin with when you had to be taught a lot yourself. Honestly, by the end of the war, we were less like teacher and student, and more like... [A lot of things, really, but he won't go too deep into it again when it can still be a sticky subject for this Byleth. So he says simply:]
Fellow knowledge seekers, I'd say. Equals. Learning is a lifelong effort, after all, and Fódlan had plenty of mysteries to uncover.
Claude, when we met at the tavern, us and Dimitri, to discuss our respective timelines, you mentioned that you discovered many secrets about Fódlan, the Church and... me. Am I safe to assume you know about...
[He didn't say it, in case Claude didn't, and he was referring to something harmless like, he didn't know, Byleth's great love for pressing his face into fluffy cat bellies or something. Instead, Byleth patted his chest - where the Crest Stone sat.]
[Claude's eyes travel down, his expression becoming more serious as he nods. But he also doesn't know how much Byleth knows -- Jeralt's diary said a lot, but not the full story -- so he decides to clarify.]
Yeah, I know -- well, just about everything. Just how much do you know about yourself, exactly? [He doesn't want to jump him with any surprise information, so that might be helpful to establish first.]
[Byleth was hesitant, unsure if Claude was trying to bait him into saying more than he should. But at this point, if Byleth couldn't trust Claude, then he couldn't trust anyone here.]
...I know that I have a Crest Stone implanted into my chest, and that is what's functioning as my heart. I also possess the Crest of Flames, passed down to me from my mother, Sitri. Jeralt faked my death as a baby, so that he could take me away from Garreg Mach and Rhea, because he didn't trust her. We've avoided the Church ever since.
[Safe, easy answers. There was a pause, one where Byleth gave Claude a long stare, weighing his words.]
I also know that I'm not entirely human. [His voice is quieter here.] Not even Jeralt could accurately say what... I am, exactly.
[Jeralt had admitted his ignorance when finally telling him about everything - including his own long lifespan and convoluted history with Rhea. Jeralt had known what Sitri was - a vessel, created by Rhea, but what that entailed... Rhea was skilled at blood magic, transfusing it, creating homunculi, and it was likely Sitri shared Rhea's blood and flesh. Jeralt didn't know, could only speculate.
But it didn't matter, Jeralt had said, at the end of the day, Byleth was himself, and that's all that mattered: "Even if you sprouted wings and turned into a Divine Beast right in front of me, you'd still be my kid, got it?" Byleth had believed him - still did.]
I'm also the vessel for Sothis. That's... all I'm aware of. I think.
That's also what I know about it, yeah. [Claude's expression is grim. He's interrupted only by their orders arriving -- with almost comical timing given the seriousness of the subject matter -- and Claude easily thanks the server and leaves his tea to steep, while he waits for her to fall out of earshot again. This is private, even if none of it would make sense to anyone from another world anyway.]
I got a lot of answers out of Rhea herself, including about that... and including about why she did it. Her entire past. I can tell you, but only if you're prepared to hear the full truth.
[While he didn't know the full story, he already knew and understood Rhea's motivations, and that was enough. She had wanted her mother back. Were Byleth in her position... he likely would've done the same, had he the means.]
Sothis and Jeralt told me enough. Rhea wanted her mother back, and so she crafted multiple vessels to achieve that aim. I don't need to know any more than that. Her past is her own business.
[He had those dreams anyway. Rhea - Seiros - standing beneath the rising dawn, crazed grief and fury in her eyes. The rawness of it still struck him, from time to time.]
Fair enough. I'm surprised Sothis told you anything, though... When I asked you about it, you said that she couldn't remember anything, and that it wasn't possible to talk to her any more, so I couldn't ask her anything either.
[Claude pours some of his tea from the teapot, taking a sip to test the temperature before letting it sit a bit longer.]
Hm. Her memories are fine in my timeline, and she's still able to speak to me. On occasion, possess me too, though that's something we've negotiated not to happen anymore.
[Not unless Byleth's sense of self suddenly imploded and she was left as the only one at the steering wheel, then she could have his body for all he cared. Dismissing all worries about divine bodysnatching, however, he tugged one of the cakes towards him - the chocolate overload one - and began to plan his approach. It looked like it'd be messy to eat...]
But here, she hasn't said a word. I think she must be asleep, rather than completely absent, as I still have access to her temporal powers. [He took the plunge, carefully using the side of his fork to cut a small piece of the chocolate cake, just large enough for a mouthful.] Albeit very weakened.
[Claude definitely does not like that mention of possession, obvious in the way his eyes narrow and he sets down his cup. He has a lot of questions, but what Byleth adds next only throws up more.]
Temporal powers? Can you... elaborate?
[His Byleth had told him a lot of things, to the point there were few secrets left between them. Still, this is news even to him.]
[Byleth paused his careful excavation of the cake at Claude's question, and looked at him, blinking slowly.]
...you weren't aware?
[He had assumed Claude would've known, since he knew about Sitri and Sothis and everything else. On the ranking system, the temporal powers were pretty low on what Byleth considered private or difficult to talk about. Well, it was difficult to talk about, but more in terms of having people believe him, rather than it being emotionally difficult.]
Sothis has the ability to manipulate time as she fits. As her vessel, she has gifted me with some of that power, though it's only a sliver of what she can achieve.
[She said she could reverse time, yet oddly barred that from Byleth's access. Not that he was complaining: being able to stop time whenever he pleased was just as advantageous.]
I can briefly exist outside of time. Usually, I use this to either cross distances instantaneously - a form of teleportation - or to kill my enemy whilst time is frozen for them. Here, however, that power is greatly diminished. I can only stop time for a handful of seconds, and it takes minutes for me to be able to do it again - whereas before I only required half a minute's pause, if that.
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leicesters) wrote2022-12-06 08:26 pm
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...my thoughts...
[Excuse the pause. Byleth.exe is trying to process his feelings on the matter into something vaguely coherent.]
If we're to be honest, then... the situation regarding Manon makes me uneasy. It feels like a trap to me, that we're being set up as part of some convoluted scheme that'll bite us further down the road. Whether it is Zenith's, Meridian's, or a third party's, I cannot say.
[He set the menu down.]
That may be my own stress causing me to feel unduly paranoid, though. It's not based on any evidence, only gut feeling. [...] There's a lot about this situation I dislike. Additionally, I spoke to Yima during the Communion, and that conversation was... frustrating, for many reasons.
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Oh, I had a chat with her too. It was pretty illuminating, actually. [But not at all frustrating, if his nonchalance is anything to go by.] What'd you talk about?
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[Byleth picked up the menu again, idly scanning it.]
It seemed disingenuous to me, as the race for the Oracles will inevitably set Zenith and Meridian on opposite sides. The Manon Dilemma, as well, does not reflect her public desire for peace: Zenith and Meridian likely frequently assassinate each other's members. They're our opponents, not our allies. I don't understand the logic.
[........well, he said he'd be honest, so...]
And then she... said something that made me lose my temper, so I cut the conversation short. In all, it was a disatisfying conversation.
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[So he says, but he knows Byleth can react to things in the moment just as much as anyone. It sounds like it was personal, so he decides not to press the matter.]
Let me think about how to explain this... [He sits back again, scratching his beard.] Meridian and Zenith are like Fódlan used to be before the war. The peace was tenuous at best, neighbours could interfere with one another, unexplained incidents could wipe out noble lines or make important people disappear overnight. But on the surface, me, Dimitri and Edelgard had to make nice together at school, because the future of Fódlan hinged on that peace.
Of course, if I'd known Edelgard was the Flame Emperor all along, I might've looked at things differently. But even before I knew her real intentions, we were always going to be rivals with a long history of conflicts, big or small, between our nations. Does that make sense?
[He hopes so; it's not exactly straightforward information for a sheltered mercenary, but comparing it to home might help.]
The same could be said for the Church of Seiros. They claimed to have all kind of noble ideas of peace and stability for Fódlan, but they did all kinds of shady things behind the scenes, to the detriment of everyone. For better or for worse, wielding power tends to involve offering a hand out to peace, all while hiding the knife behind your back. That's just how it is.
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Truthfully, he never paid any attention to the politics of Fódlan even after the war had broken out. Jeralt was the one who had to sense where the wind was blowing, to sniff out where the best jobs would crop up next because Sir So-and-So hated Count What'shisface and so sent catpaws (mercenaries) to duke it out in the middle of the woods to decide who was right - but discreetly, because publicly they were the best of friends, the strongest of allies, they would never have a disagreement!
It was, as Jeralt would sigh:]
Oh. [Byleth made an enlightened noise.] It's "noble bullshit".
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Yeah. That sort of thing isn't confined just to Fódlan, I guess. Then you have nations like Almyra, where the common belief was always might making right... I'm sure something like that is a lot easier for a mercenary to understand. But the Church's influence in Fódlan, preaching peaceful coexistence amongst believers, meant everything had to be done a lot more discreetly.
[Not that Almyra's way of doing things was any better, but at least it wasn't as complicated, even with all the court intrigue.]
Zenith and Meridian don't have a shared religion or anything, but they do have to depend on one another to survive, to some extent. So their hands are tied in some similar ways that kept the balance of power in Fódlan in check.
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[Byleth paused, clearly struggling to put his feelings into coherent words. He let out a short breath - frustration.]
As a mercenary, I've done many unscrupulous things to survive. I understand that it's an unavoidable part of living. We all must take lives to prolong our own, and honour is worthless to a corpse. Still, there're some principles I try to stick to, if only so I can live my life with as few regrets as I can. One of those is never betraying an ally, it's a line I refuse to cross. Yet, this... attempting to reach an alliance of sorts with Zenith, all while expecting to fight them eventually... it skirts close to that, doesn't it?
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Ideals like being noble in deed and loyal to one's word are all very well and good for Faerghus storybooks, but they usually don't translate to the real world. And if they do...
[He grimaces, his expression distant as he recalls a memory better forgotten. Well, no need to bring that up here.]
I digress. I think your view of things is admirable, Byleth, but loyalty doesn't really have any place in an arena where you can never be sure of your ally's true intentions.
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[Byleth actually started to frown, his lack of comprehension evident. He understood in a way, he did. Mercenary bands occasionally worked together to achieve a singular purpose - but the selfishness of such an action was always stated plainly between parties. They weren't 'alliances', they were 'favours'. Taking a contract for a client wasn't an 'alliance', that was just 'business'. Jeralt made sure Byleth understood that.
"How do I explain... a true ally is like a friend," Jeralt had said long ago. So, Byleth had used that as a handrail. An ally is a friend, and you do not betray friends. It was straightforward and simple, and he was beginning to realise maybe it was too simple. In the face of Claude's explanation, and the realisation that 'alliances' were tainted by that 'noble bullshit', it made Byleth feel more than a little stupid.]
I thought allies were friends...?
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[Count Gloucester was the most extreme example among them, but they all had friction.]
Remember, these are all people with competing local interests. Gloucester had the Empire hounding his doorstep. House Goneril had Almyra looming on theirs. I was some young upstart with unknown origins or intentions. You can pretend to be friends in those circumstances, but would it really be genuine? Friendship is built on trust. Alliances are built on trust... but also convenience.
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[Byleth's response was stiff, if only because he felt so embarrassed at misunderstanding something that was apparently extremely obvious to everyone else. He didn't understand, though. Jeralt had told him...
...
...had Byleth taken his words too literally? Or had Jeralt lied to him? Oversimplified, because he thought Byleth wouldn't understand? He felt stung at the thought, but he didn't know where the hurt was directed towards.]
This is why I lived in the woods. People are too difficult. [He pointedly looked down at the menu.] Are you ready to order?
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I think I'll go for the chamomile tea this time.
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We can share the food. [he said, as the staff member walked off to fulfil their order.] Also, I forgot to say: thank you for clarifying. I'll not lie and say I fully accept the explanation, but I know you only wish for me to avoid being tricked in some way.
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And yeah, I do. Things here are only going to get more complicated from here on out, and you don't want Zenith running circles around you. Nor should you waste your breath getting mad at people who aren't going to listen to you anyway.
[He could say that to a lot of Meridian, but it's Byleth in particular he wants to understand the situation. He has a sharp mind -- it's just an inexperienced one that needs pointing in the right direction.]
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[...he abruptly huffed out an amused noise.]
This was meant to be an outing where I would support you for once, Claude, but again it's you looking out for me. [He tilted his head slightly.] Are you certain I was your teacher, and not the other way round?
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Fellow knowledge seekers, I'd say. Equals. Learning is a lifelong effort, after all, and Fódlan had plenty of mysteries to uncover.
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[Which reminded him. Byleth sobered slightly.]
Claude, when we met at the tavern, us and Dimitri, to discuss our respective timelines, you mentioned that you discovered many secrets about Fódlan, the Church and... me. Am I safe to assume you know about...
[He didn't say it, in case Claude didn't, and he was referring to something harmless like, he didn't know, Byleth's great love for pressing his face into fluffy cat bellies or something. Instead, Byleth patted his chest - where the Crest Stone sat.]
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Yeah, I know -- well, just about everything. Just how much do you know about yourself, exactly? [He doesn't want to jump him with any surprise information, so that might be helpful to establish first.]
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...I know that I have a Crest Stone implanted into my chest, and that is what's functioning as my heart. I also possess the Crest of Flames, passed down to me from my mother, Sitri. Jeralt faked my death as a baby, so that he could take me away from Garreg Mach and Rhea, because he didn't trust her. We've avoided the Church ever since.
[Safe, easy answers. There was a pause, one where Byleth gave Claude a long stare, weighing his words.]
I also know that I'm not entirely human. [His voice is quieter here.] Not even Jeralt could accurately say what... I am, exactly.
[Jeralt had admitted his ignorance when finally telling him about everything - including his own long lifespan and convoluted history with Rhea. Jeralt had known what Sitri was - a vessel, created by Rhea, but what that entailed... Rhea was skilled at blood magic, transfusing it, creating homunculi, and it was likely Sitri shared Rhea's blood and flesh. Jeralt didn't know, could only speculate.
But it didn't matter, Jeralt had said, at the end of the day, Byleth was himself, and that's all that mattered: "Even if you sprouted wings and turned into a Divine Beast right in front of me, you'd still be my kid, got it?" Byleth had believed him - still did.]
I'm also the vessel for Sothis. That's... all I'm aware of. I think.
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I got a lot of answers out of Rhea herself, including about that... and including about why she did it. Her entire past. I can tell you, but only if you're prepared to hear the full truth.
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[While he didn't know the full story, he already knew and understood Rhea's motivations, and that was enough. She had wanted her mother back. Were Byleth in her position... he likely would've done the same, had he the means.]
Sothis and Jeralt told me enough. Rhea wanted her mother back, and so she crafted multiple vessels to achieve that aim. I don't need to know any more than that. Her past is her own business.
[He had those dreams anyway. Rhea - Seiros - standing beneath the rising dawn, crazed grief and fury in her eyes. The rawness of it still struck him, from time to time.]
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[Claude pours some of his tea from the teapot, taking a sip to test the temperature before letting it sit a bit longer.]
How about now? Can she talk to you here?
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[Not unless Byleth's sense of self suddenly imploded and she was left as the only one at the steering wheel, then she could have his body for all he cared. Dismissing all worries about divine bodysnatching, however, he tugged one of the cakes towards him - the chocolate overload one - and began to plan his approach. It looked like it'd be messy to eat...]
But here, she hasn't said a word. I think she must be asleep, rather than completely absent, as I still have access to her temporal powers. [He took the plunge, carefully using the side of his fork to cut a small piece of the chocolate cake, just large enough for a mouthful.] Albeit very weakened.
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Temporal powers? Can you... elaborate?
[His Byleth had told him a lot of things, to the point there were few secrets left between them. Still, this is news even to him.]
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...you weren't aware?
[He had assumed Claude would've known, since he knew about Sitri and Sothis and everything else. On the ranking system, the temporal powers were pretty low on what Byleth considered private or difficult to talk about. Well, it was difficult to talk about, but more in terms of having people believe him, rather than it being emotionally difficult.]
Sothis has the ability to manipulate time as she fits. As her vessel, she has gifted me with some of that power, though it's only a sliver of what she can achieve.
[She said she could reverse time, yet oddly barred that from Byleth's access. Not that he was complaining: being able to stop time whenever he pleased was just as advantageous.]
I can briefly exist outside of time. Usually, I use this to either cross distances instantaneously - a form of teleportation - or to kill my enemy whilst time is frozen for them. Here, however, that power is greatly diminished. I can only stop time for a handful of seconds, and it takes minutes for me to be able to do it again - whereas before I only required half a minute's pause, if that.
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