[it's a long time coming back, this response. that he offers it at all is, perhaps, something of an olive branch in itself.]
When the needs of the Scions first saw us work together, you were as a stranger to me. As likely to let a knife find itself in my back as you were to put it there yourself. Whether that was true or not, [to forestall the inevitable denial] I had no way of knowing. To me, you were a threat. The insults were but a way of measuring your character. That they have persisted after the fact is because there was no need to change.
And because I'm a bastard. [admittedly. he knows what kind of person he is.]
So what I want is of secondary importance because I've no intent of showing vulnerability to you, only to be mocked. [still sour grapes over the kitten comments yes, why do you ask.]
[ She doesn't waste her time denying it, as clearly Ze’s trust issues run quite deep and she can’t say she blames him for being wary of new people anyway. Gods know she’s been much the same throughout her life, especially when she was a child, newly fled from Ishgard and suddenly even more alone than she’d ever been. Perhaps the only difference between them is that she doesn’t immediately regard someone as guilty until proven innocent, but rather she holds them at arm’s length until she believes they’ve proven they can be well trusted. Possibly Ze has the most trouble ever reaching that point where he believes others can be trusted. ]
I was not mocking you. I had hoped you would be reminded of that moment between us and admit… something besides contempt for me.
You cannot show cruelty and hostility towards people and expect them to not be on their guard around you. That is no way to measure the character of an individual. All you do is push them away, or ensure they will never allow you closer. I imagine you know enough of the world to know that you are far from the only person to suffer betrayals and hurt.
If you think I would have allowed you anywhere near me even while drunk if I did not trust you or was not attracted to you to some degree, ‘tis clear you think even less of me and my strength of character than I thought.
Well, then we do not have to talk. You can take your time now, if you want to.
[ And then, because he’s deigned to put his guard down and admit something personal, she feels she should probably return the show of trust with one of her own. It makes her ridiculously happy to know what he’s told her; she wants to similarly make him happy. ]
I care little what we do. I only wish to see you for a while.
[ It’s as close as she’ll get right now to admitting she misses him. ]
Were you to submit yourself to the inevitable clash, I might be able to break it further. For one who wishes to die, you're certainly dedicated to the time-consuming [and annoying af] chase.
are u saying u don't want to write brian's name brian over and over again
[ the final elemental flood to reunite the shards: sarcastic quips! ]
What is this? A desire to meet me on the battlefield, face-to-face, one-on-one? Ah, such an enticing idea, but how could I ever dare such a feat? T'would break my dear lord's heart were I to wipe your very existence from the face of the star!
[ sorry bro, he's fine staying just a few steps out of reach at all times. ]
As I said, I have a history with poisons. Not that I am implying I ought to poison you. Mayhap simply create something that would render you incapacitated long enough to emerge from this situation you have managed to get yourself into.
[It’s a moment in coming back, Vassa’s plea a muted thing in his ears as the drum of his blood drowns out near all else. There is a voice in him that wants to persist- knowledge of ages past echoing through his veins and clamoring for something more- greater. A desire to press, to pull Vassa within his domain. To make him fall in line
It breaks when he opens his eyes, that whisper falling silent as Ze returns to the reality of the moment, suppressed but not forgotten. Gaze flicking down to the hand wrapped around his own, he draws his fingers back after a moment and stares at his palm- smeared at some point in a graze of blood.
He recognizes well the urge, remembering briefly the blinding light that shone in the Western Highlands. Gods, but it seems an age ago…
The problem then, Ze thinks as he raises his eyes to look up at Vassa, is that which spurned such an urge. While he can’t claim to understand much of it, he recalls well Papashan’s words; that when two souls are in contest and a victor cannot be discerned, one must claim dominance… but as insane as that might have sounded, he was certain that was unique to those bound to an oath. To paladins, of which he is almost positive Vassa is not.
So why…?
Ah, but looking up at Vassa as his gaze refocuses, Ze can tell this is neither the time or place. Something to ponder, alongside the revelation that he was never an oathbreaker, later.]
You’d have done well to let me continue. [Is all he says after a moment, burying that uneasiness with habitual calm, moving to his feet after a moment. Deliberately- insistently- he headbutts Vassa gently on the way up, but in a kinder way that is more akin to affection among their kind, though that may only sting more.] Don’t complain to me later if the job is a shoddy one.
[But as if to give Vassa the relief he desires, Ze pulls away and goes towards the sack he discarded earlier, wiping his bloodied hand clean(?) against the side of his coat before he undoes the tie and pulls the mouth open.]
Heads up. [And, as if in direct opposition to the knowledge of Vassa’s injuries, Ze pulls out an apple, and chucks it in the other’s direction, waiting to hear if it’s caught or it thuds into the wall behind him.]
[Try as he might to keep much of himself an entirely private affair, the simple truth, undeniable in these rare, fleeting moments of vulnerability, is as inescapable as their shared stubbornness: Ze is far greater a mystery than Li'to could ever hope to be. If he cared for such things, he might wonder if that isn't exactly why he can't quite bring himself to feel entirely at ease around the elder Miqo'te: for all that they may share in common, the gulf between them spans a lifetime.
Ze chases after him with an insistent headbutt and Li'to's ears flatten into his mess of hair; Ze tosses an apple his way and he barely finds his hands enough to catch it, surprise etching itself onto his features before he can reel it in. Briefly, he thinks he may never quite understand the man at all.
He feels altogether far, far younger than he is.
With a shake of the head, he shuffles himself back onto the bed as best he can without putting Ze's hard to waste, his back landing against the wall with a thump. Cool, calming aether soothes the burn that follows, and he turns the ripened fruit over in his hands as he exhales through the slowly numbing pain.]
I'll give you the benefit of believing you haven't healed me in the interests of poisoning me immediately after. [There's no bite to the words, the way there might usually be, spoken into the air rather than at their designated target; that's saved for the poor apple. A mouthful of sweet-sour flesh is as good a balm as any paladin's spell.
A swallow, and another turn in his palm. He watches Ze only in his peripheral.]
[It’s a bit of a comical situation, to be sure, the sight of Ze- arrogant in spades- sitting pathetically in a heap of blankets clutching at a bucket as though his life depends on it while Lavai works his magic.
The sensation is an odd one at first and a little more than uncomfortable. Like an infected, seeping wound pricked with a hot knife to bleed out the taint- sharp pain followed by much needed relief. The ache lingers still- a throbbing behind the eyes and a loathing for the light- but he at least no longer feels the need to cling to the bucket so tightly. After all, what are spirits if not a poison?
When Lavai finishes, that spinning orb swirling elegantly in his hand as he shoots Ze a glance, the Miqo’te cannot help but give him quirked brow in response. Always did wonder how those things work.]
I’d not get too close, all the same. [He thinks of an insult- a barb- anything to imply he’s his usual self but… well, he’s an ass but not an ungrateful one. So-] My thanks. [Is what he gets out instead, voice sounding only marginally better than that of a drowning toad as he reaches for the glass of water he sees on the tray and sets about downing it in a single go- moderation be damned. (No lessons having been learnt, evidently.)] And here you would have been well within your rights to rub it in.
And then it was my turn to enter the void BUT I AM RETURNED 8')
( As a healer, it's second nature for Lavai to notice the little tells of another person's body. He's pleased to see the way Ze's grip on the bucket relaxes after the spell; the release of tension in his shoulders, the slight slump as the rest of the hangover becomes easier to bear. )
Rubbing it in will come later, don't you worry about that.
( Is his light response, amusement touching the corners of his lips as he raises an eyebrow at his friend. Ze should know better than to think he's getting off without being made fun of - but Lavai isn't the type poke too much fun at a person while they're down. Far better to help them back to their feet and then tease them for needing the hand in the first place. )
No– slowly.
( Lavai reaches out to lay a hand on Ze's forearm; light to the touch, but firm enough to convey that he wants to be taken seriously in this. )
I didn't channel all that magic into you just for you to make yourself throw up.
[he resents that zenos makes it sound as if that moment should have meant anything to him. resents the implication it was the loss of something grand warranting forgiveness rather than yet one more death in a long list of them. resents that it did. that it was. that it left him all too keenly aware of a growing maw within his chest. dissatisfaction. apathy. a frenzied peak tapering away in the aftermath leaving emptiness.
his tomestone suffers for the irritation, gripped tight in his hand.]
I do not question why you did it, only that you did. As always and as it has ever been, this "friendship" of yours is for your satisfaction, not mine.
Are you so sure of that? That I am the only one garnering satisfaction from our friendship? Would you not at least admit to yourself that you crave me as I do you?
[His expression turns somber at the reminder of what it was he meant to do the eve before. Nothing so grim as to require a blade or the like, but enough to grind away at a stone of guilt within his chest. He had meant to...
And had drank himself silly trying to find the courage to do it. A poor comedy, but a comedy nonetheless.]
...It can wait. [He replies after a moment, exhaling softly. He's confident Sidurgu won't push the matter any further- it's not in either of their natures to pry too deeply- but he cannot help the coil of uncertainty that winds about his chest all the same. It's impossible, after all, to not know that his feelings towards the Pillars- towards House Fortemps- is complicated. Not after that spectacular debacle of his soul crystal shattering straight down the middle on their last foray right outside its steps.
Even now, after everything in Gyr Abania, it is not a conversation he is ready to have with others.]
What were you doing awake at this hour anyway? [The turn in conversation is, perhaps, a blatant one as he shuffles alongside the Xaela, trying to find his footing and succeeding only partially. While he's not swayed yet from leaving as soon as able, still not wanting to concern Rielle unnecessarily (and certainly not over a bout of drunken idiocy,) he cannot deny the temptation to stay is there, lingering in the back of his mind. A temptation bolstered by both the desire to delay the inevitable and to spend a little time catching up with those whom he would readily consider close as family.]
[ It can wait. Ze was right, that really was all the reason Sidurgu needed to hear. It was acknowledged with a hum as Sidurgu instead directed his attention towards their path; hitting flat brick now had ease compared to the ever-so secure wooden stairs that made the descent, for some mercy, and the two could pick up pace whilst remaining careful of Ze's ambiguous injury.
The Brume proper remained the cluttered mess it ever was, the rising sun not yet in full view above the walls that closed in Ishgard's bottomdwelling population-- not that it would even breakthrough the current cloud coverage, mind, but the light directly was rare enough outside selective hours when its source was at its peak. Making past the lower level of the Forgotten Knight (undoubtedly still full of patrons passed out and strewn about the place, per usual) Sidurgu can't help but have his mind drift to consider Ze's intention of traveling to the Pillars in the state he had allowed himself to fall into. An inebriated push for confidence gone too far, a distraction turned motivation?
Complicated barely scratched the surface. He knew that much, and likely would only know that much rather than the depths that pierced the surface and broke it in two. The hand bracing Ze's back gives a small rub, wordless in accompany. ]
Hm?
[ Blatant, aye, but Sidurgu was never one for subtleties to begin with. Sidurgu glances down with a quirked brow before scanning the walls of the Brume for a specific, shitty looking door that would be their soon-approaching destination. Home sweet home. ]
Sleep never quite came to me. Fits of waking up were too frequent to allow for much.
[ A common occurrence. He had given Rielle the bed that one could reasonably find sleep on quite some time ago, after all. That sass could easily find source in the same vein of thought. ]
Figured I could keep an eye on waiting for your arse to show signs of life somewhere.
[When the proposal of political marriage had first emerged at the negotiations table, many within the Alliance had thought it a poorly timed joke. Some mismatched sense of humor ill-befitting the somber atmosphere. But no, Maxima had insisted, evidently the offer had been all too serious and had therefore prompted an equally serious response in turn- however scrambled it might be.
The question then, of course, was of who they might offer to such a union- nevermind their lack of understanding of to whom amongst the Garlean royal family the union might be.
Nanamo had come up in passing- as quickly suggested and dismissed for the look upon Raubahn's face. It was a foolish thing to even think, really, for Ul'dah would not relinquish their beloved Sultana to anyone and it was nonsensical to offer a ruler in any regard. Lyse had also been mentioned, though she had swiftly denounced the very notion- claiming she would send the bloody bastard flying as soon as he attempted to place hands upon her. She could also, they had felt, not be spared from the efforts of rebuilding Ala Mhigo. (A paltry excuse, perhaps, but offered with the same amount of dignity one would expect from such a seasoned diplomat as Kan-e-Senna in the spirit of allowing Lyse to save face.) Hien had offered himself- bemused and joking- and Yugiri had nearly grown white hairs on the spot. Aymeric had also tentatively offered his candidacy- claiming to be no true leader of Ishgard and merely a representative of the House of Lords. Merlwyb had swiftly negated the possibility- citing that Aymeric's removal would surely see a regression in Ishgard's open borders policies and sow the seeds of discord as effectively were any of them to wed.
Suggestions thusly made and each calmly refuted left unanswered the question of Who would be a fitting representative of the Eorzean Alliance? That it must needs be someone with enough influence to show they were sincere in their efforts towards the union but not so influential as to potentially cripple a City State went unsaid, but seemingly there were none fit to fill the role.
None, save, perhaps one. And as the silence grew, awkward and uncomfortable with every passing second as those present refused to even so much as glance in his direction, it was Ze who finally broke the tentative silence with a sigh weary enough in its resignation to already herald the obvious conclusion. Nobody had wanted to say it- to offer up their Champion once more like bait upon the platter- and so he said it for them.
(Fray shriekedhis disapproval.)
When protests rose up- as inevitably for himself as they had any other suggestion- he merely proclaimed that should it indeed turn out to be a trap intended to force the Alliance's hand- there would be none better equipped than he fight to their way out their way out from the heart of Garlemald. (And, more quietly to himself, he added that if he should fail it would only mean the loss of an adventurer.)
"Steady, lad. You've enough notches to your belt that none here would doubt you- aye, but you're not a god." Raubahn had cautioned him, well-meaning kindness in his words.
"Yet." Hien had offered unhelpfully with a sheepish smile.
There was, of course, the small matter of his presumed murder of the crown prince, but Thancred (in an ill-mood over the whole thing) had merely pointed out that held little water since Zenos was clearly up and about. Lyse (in an equally poor mood) added that if any dared to speak ill of their suggestion upon the grounds of Ze's history considering Garlemald's own, then hang the whole thing and they could go back to the talk of war. (He was a little touched to see how many of those upon the table nodded in agreement of the latter.)
Still, as tempting as the idea was, it was the thought of countless others dying for his failure that kept him from decrying the offer in its entirety. Not, of course, that he expected that to change much if it was indeed a trap. Still, even if that were the case, this route would get him a bit closer to the possibility of a royal assassination and, truth be told, that suited his tastes far better than the dancing about in the politics of war and alliances. There was some danger with the whole plan, of course, but that was only to be expected and certainly it was no less than he might have felt in the face of a primal or surrounded by throngs of murderous wildebeests.
Furthermore, if his only true threat was Elidibus masquerading as Zenos- Ze was more than certain he would be able to handle him. No one had matched him the way the Garlean prince had and he was confident, same body or no, that the Ascian would be no different.
Small consolations, to be certain, but with the added security of an "entourage" in the form of half the Scions (with the other half serving reconnaissance,) Ze felt wholly confident in their ability to pull off this plan. Even if it never came to that- what was a marriage to an uncaring royal in the long run? Surely no well bred Garlean prince/princess would look upon a savage such as he and find him desirable. Once peace was brokered and the entire affair had grown stale, he had no doubt he would be discarded- free to return to his travels with a truce in his pocket for his troubles.
[ It had been initially Elidibus' suggestion to start with. The problem of how to handle the Champion of Eorzea had become quite the topic, especially with the death of Lahabrea and the subsequent passing of Zenos. Emet-Selch had thought that he would be able to rest for services rendered for quite some time. Yet he had been stirred, awakened despite the fact that he had played his part perfectly, and brought back into wakefulness. The shock and disgust on Varis' face had almost been worth it. Apparently his grandson had thought that he would have been rid of Ascian influence. Varis' realization that he would need to manage not just one but two was almost delightful.
Almost. Sleep is much better in the long run.
At first, both Hades and Varis believe Elidibus to be joking. A union would not simply solve the issue of the Warrior of Light being a pain in their side. Then again, Themis had been all but lost - drained of all personality and memory - thus there is no reason to believe he is capable of a true joke. Thus he is serious. Yet Emet-Selch can't help but wonder why the change of plan. Change of attitude. The two of them dismiss the current Emperor to discuss this option and why it is even needed.
Plans on the First might have to be put on hold. They have time, after all. Perhaps the best option is to simply wait this one out instead of risk the balance and lose any more of their numbers.
Emet-Selch is loathe to agree. Surely they could simply step in and do away with the creature. Elidibus notes that it isn't so simple. Several of them have attempted and all have failed thusfar. The safer, the more cautious plan is to simply remove the Champion of Eorzea off of the chessboard, so to speak. Then they can simply carry on after the hero's passing along with the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. A few decades won't truly set them back. He shakes his had and crosses his arms. It really is the best option. Look at what Lahabrea's recklessness had gotten him.
Then he waves Elidibus off, stating that he doesn't need Emet-Selch for this nonsense. That's when the man gives an insufferable smile. That is not quite true, is what he says. It's enough to have Hades turn around and give the other a long, hard look.
Eventually the word is given to the faction that seeks a peaceful resolution to all of this "mess." They pass on the "invitation," if one can call it that, for the Scions and the leaders of the Eorzean Alliance to engage in the ancient political art that is arranged marriage. They would offer someone to represent the Alliance and then Garlemald would offer someone of noble blood. A union that would allow Garlemald to hold the provinces that they do while relinquishing Doma and Ala Mhigo with no intentions of proceeding with their global conquest. All the while the Ascians know that there is truly only one option.
The Warrior of Light.
Emet-Selch and Elidibus allow for the people to know about this exchange, this offer. But as for who would be given on the Garlean side of things, many can only believe that it would be Zenos. Who else would be able to pair themselves with a savage but a savage himself? It would be a strong political move for both parties. Whispers abound. Speculation and theorizing. Just who...
Over all it's truly too good of an opportunity for the Alliance to pass up or ignore. That's why the Ascians and Varis aren't at all surprised that the Alliance and the Scions are going to be coming to Garlemald proper. Preparations will be made. Accommodations arranged. They will receive a proper escort to the city with members of Maxima's party and Varis' retainers for good measure.
Elidibus and Emet-Selch both longer in the shadows until it is time. ]
[The path is quiet despite the gentle sound of rain- uneven stone steps pattering with building puddles of no consequence. Come morning the ground will only be dampened to hint at the night's weather, gone by noon under a harsh early-summer sun.
None of which, of course, has any bearing on the situation before him.
He'd come at the behest of one rumor or another and no Estinien to accompany him this time on an ill-fated venture. Some tall tale of hidden cities and glowing, ephemeral lights that vanished when one came too close. He had chalked it up to a mirage at most and had marveled that this star still yet had surprises to reveal this close to home when it had proven true. But that was the beauty of it, was it not?
It seemed of the ancient world at a glance, prompting him to wonder if it was mere coincidence that he should encounter so many of these structures now after his time spent in the ancient world, or if they had always been there- waiting to be recognized by a wandering eye.
Unable to keep himself from it, he traced the outer walls with a gloved set of fingers, following those familiar angles while noting that these buildings did indeed seem to dim to nothingness if he ventured too close. For what reason, he had yet to fathom, but it did lend an eerie aura to the entire settlement- as though the buildings themselves were ushering the unknown wanderer away. Begone. There is no light nor refuge for you here. Like a tale murmured 'round a campfire in his youth. The notion almost made him smile as he finally withdrew his hand and continued on his walk to the apparent main-structure of the settlement. This one, much like the others, became enshrouded at the edges as he got closer, yet clung stubbornly to corporeal form despite- enough for him to push open a door much larger than himself. (One already slightly ajar, thankfully. He'd not quite forgotten his woeful attempts in the past.)
Inside- it was much as he expected. Ghostly afterimages of angular wall lights casting a warm (if flickering) glow upon sharp, perfect walls and gold glimmering engravings leading to a desk that towered above him. As he stepped inside the structure, wondering what could prompt the appearance of this city after all this time- something to do with the events of the final days, perhaps? he was startled when his next step seemed to send a ripple through the building, causing it to glow a sudden blinding white- not unlike the pillars of light when he called upon the power of Azem. And as the brightness grew and grew- until he was forced to cover his gaze for fear of going blind- all he could pray was that he hadn't entered a trap.]
[ That's like the first thing that Ze will hear. For Theron's part, he is shutting down this latest experiment. A theory involving trying to connect ambient aether together together to actually show those faint traces that linger. The ones that people can use to recall past events or feelings if they truly focus on it.
Though he hadn't expected that all of the sudden there would be a shining white light either. Not one that Theron is so familiar with himself. They have been testing this in a fairly remote location! There shouldn't be any traces of Astra nor should the man himself see fit to show up here himself.
All right maybe that isn't entirely true, considering the man's possessive nature but!
Theron might be a little reckless as he darts forward, noticing that there is, indeed, something with in the light. Without much thought, he grabs onto it. Pulls it towards himself. ]
You sold Estinien a dish of mushed vegetable for 1/3 of a small house. Your heart is as rotten and fetid as a dying Namazu beneath Azeyma's foot. [bro.]
And if you even so much as hint that I might fuck a Grebuloff, I will sell you out to Tataru faster then the next impending disaster to hurl itself upon the face of this star. [he might hate fish.]
aye, aye, you run your mouth now, Ze, but your tune'll change once you've sampled some of my reasonably priced mushed vegetable dish!
it's full of love!
lousy with it!
to bursting, even!
you'll be gobsmacked. right in the gob. just, utterly smacked.
Estinien likes my mushed vegetables. :(
[ still bleeding profusely, now additionally making a drunken grocery list in the tomestone notes app, including such fine, sensical ingredients as "big plate" and "mushy vegetable (2)" ]
don't criticize my cooking and i won't imply you fuck space namazu.
Have you not? Has your very presence not served to undo our work? At least their deaths were in service to a greater cause, in search of a greater purpose than they would have otherwise had.
And of course! How could I forget all of the times the Warrior simply left well enough alone! All of those notable events in your life where you relinquished the past and moved onward without taking action to right it.
1. ... [we'll have to blame the 9 tankbusters on this one.] 2. Soft in what way as he monologues the right with which he has to slaughter us? 3/4. Like as not, Emet-Selch and Lahabrea can both linger near the bottom. I care not for the theatrics nor their utter disregard towards their young. 7. Stop making of us a couple in your mind. I could barely tolerate the dastard, even before he revealed his hand. 8. no
1. incredible. 2. i suppose that is what he was faffing on about. sometimes it's hard to follow. i was more thinking soft in all the ways he's absolutely out of his gourd over that azem person. the man puts the symbol near everywhere. 3/4. hmm. this hypothetical is starting to get very real, i think. 7. ay matron's tits!! fine!! i'll figure out someone else to smash you with in my mind. [ horrid. ] 8. this is not how you build bridges, Ze.
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⤞acoldwind
[it's a long time coming back, this response. that he offers it at all is, perhaps, something of an olive branch in itself.]
When the needs of the Scions first saw us work together, you were as a stranger to me. As likely to let a knife find itself in my back as you were to put it there yourself. Whether that was true or not, [to forestall the inevitable denial] I had no way of knowing. To me, you were a threat. The insults were but a way of measuring your character. That they have persisted after the fact is because there was no need to change.
And because I'm a bastard. [admittedly. he knows what kind of person he is.]
So what I want is of secondary importance because I've no intent of showing vulnerability to you, only to be mocked. [still sour grapes over the kitten comments yes, why do you ask.]
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I was not mocking you. I had hoped you would be reminded of that moment between us and admit… something besides contempt for me.
You cannot show cruelty and hostility towards people and expect them to not be on their guard around you. That is no way to measure the character of an individual. All you do is push them away, or ensure they will never allow you closer. I imagine you know enough of the world to know that you are far from the only person to suffer betrayals and hurt.
If you think I would have allowed you anywhere near me even while drunk if I did not trust you or was not attracted to you to some degree, ‘tis clear you think even less of me and my strength of character than I thought.
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⤞acoldwind (pt. 2: the two towers)
It's naught you wouldn't expect and talking isn't my preference.
[but in a second text:] You helped. Truth be told, I'd rather have taken my time but the twins' timing is as calamitous as ever.
[ooc: no worries, tag what you want and feel free to drop or come back as you need. o7]
💙
[ And then, because he’s deigned to put his guard down and admit something personal, she feels she should probably return the show of trust with one of her own. It makes her ridiculously happy to know what he’s told her; she wants to similarly make him happy. ]
I care little what we do. I only wish to see you for a while.
[ It’s as close as she’ll get right now to admitting she misses him. ]
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lmao the mental image tho
we've all thought it
okay i’m back
it's me. in the void.
is it cozy there? also do I owe you any other tags?
no it is damp and gross. :(
⤞trollophoroi
[please. no more floods.]
Were you to submit yourself to the inevitable clash, I might be able to break it further. For one who wishes to die, you're certainly dedicated to the time-consuming [and annoying af] chase.
are u saying u don't want to write brian's name brian over and over again
What is this? A desire to meet me on the battlefield, face-to-face, one-on-one? Ah, such an enticing idea, but how could I ever dare such a feat? T'would break my dear lord's heart were I to wipe your very existence from the face of the star!
[ sorry bro, he's fine staying just a few steps out of reach at all times. ]
m'so tired of countin toes mang
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⤞porcelainandblood
...
I'm listening. [ze.]
captcha get rekt
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i'm not here. i've never been here. clearly.
oh a ghost! so spoopy!
⤞misaligned
[It’s a moment in coming back, Vassa’s plea a muted thing in his ears as the drum of his blood drowns out near all else. There is a voice in him that wants to persist- knowledge of ages past echoing through his veins and clamoring for something more- greater. A desire to press, to pull Vassa within his domain. To make him fall in line
It breaks when he opens his eyes, that whisper falling silent as Ze returns to the reality of the moment, suppressed but not forgotten. Gaze flicking down to the hand wrapped around his own, he draws his fingers back after a moment and stares at his palm- smeared at some point in a graze of blood.
He recognizes well the urge, remembering briefly the blinding light that shone in the Western Highlands. Gods, but it seems an age ago…
The problem then, Ze thinks as he raises his eyes to look up at Vassa, is that which spurned such an urge. While he can’t claim to understand much of it, he recalls well Papashan’s words; that when two souls are in contest and a victor cannot be discerned, one must claim dominance… but as insane as that might have sounded, he was certain that was unique to those bound to an oath. To paladins, of which he is almost positive Vassa is not.
So why…?
Ah, but looking up at Vassa as his gaze refocuses, Ze can tell this is neither the time or place. Something to ponder, alongside the revelation that he was never an oathbreaker, later.]
You’d have done well to let me continue. [Is all he says after a moment, burying that uneasiness with habitual calm, moving to his feet after a moment. Deliberately- insistently- he headbutts Vassa gently on the way up, but in a kinder way that is more akin to affection among their kind, though that may only sting more.] Don’t complain to me later if the job is a shoddy one.
[But as if to give Vassa the relief he desires, Ze pulls away and goes towards the sack he discarded earlier, wiping his bloodied hand clean(?) against the side of his coat before he undoes the tie and pulls the mouth open.]
Heads up. [And, as if in direct opposition to the knowledge of Vassa’s injuries, Ze pulls out an apple, and chucks it in the other’s direction, waiting to hear if it’s caught or it thuds into the wall behind him.]
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Ze chases after him with an insistent headbutt and Li'to's ears flatten into his mess of hair; Ze tosses an apple his way and he barely finds his hands enough to catch it, surprise etching itself onto his features before he can reel it in. Briefly, he thinks he may never quite understand the man at all.
He feels altogether far, far younger than he is.
With a shake of the head, he shuffles himself back onto the bed as best he can without putting Ze's hard to waste, his back landing against the wall with a thump. Cool, calming aether soothes the burn that follows, and he turns the ripened fruit over in his hands as he exhales through the slowly numbing pain.]
I'll give you the benefit of believing you haven't healed me in the interests of poisoning me immediately after. [There's no bite to the words, the way there might usually be, spoken into the air rather than at their designated target; that's saved for the poor apple. A mouthful of sweet-sour flesh is as good a balm as any paladin's spell.
A swallow, and another turn in his palm. He watches Ze only in his peripheral.]
... I assume you'll be on your way.
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falls in from the abyss
NOT IF I DO IT FIRST
⤞earthlystars
[It’s a bit of a comical situation, to be sure, the sight of Ze- arrogant in spades- sitting pathetically in a heap of blankets clutching at a bucket as though his life depends on it while Lavai works his magic.
The sensation is an odd one at first and a little more than uncomfortable. Like an infected, seeping wound pricked with a hot knife to bleed out the taint- sharp pain followed by much needed relief. The ache lingers still- a throbbing behind the eyes and a loathing for the light- but he at least no longer feels the need to cling to the bucket so tightly. After all, what are spirits if not a poison?
When Lavai finishes, that spinning orb swirling elegantly in his hand as he shoots Ze a glance, the Miqo’te cannot help but give him quirked brow in response. Always did wonder how those things work.]
I’d not get too close, all the same. [He thinks of an insult- a barb- anything to imply he’s his usual self but… well, he’s an ass but not an ungrateful one. So-] My thanks. [Is what he gets out instead, voice sounding only marginally better than that of a drowning toad as he reaches for the glass of water he sees on the tray and sets about downing it in a single go- moderation be damned. (No lessons having been learnt, evidently.)] And here you would have been well within your rights to rub it in.
And then it was my turn to enter the void BUT I AM RETURNED 8')
( As a healer, it's second nature for Lavai to notice the little tells of another person's body. He's pleased to see the way Ze's grip on the bucket relaxes after the spell; the release of tension in his shoulders, the slight slump as the rest of the hangover becomes easier to bear. )
Rubbing it in will come later, don't you worry about that.
( Is his light response, amusement touching the corners of his lips as he raises an eyebrow at his friend. Ze should know better than to think he's getting off without being made fun of - but Lavai isn't the type poke too much fun at a person while they're down. Far better to help them back to their feet and then tease them for needing the hand in the first place. )
No– slowly.
( Lavai reaches out to lay a hand on Ze's forearm; light to the touch, but firm enough to convey that he wants to be taken seriously in this. )
I didn't channel all that magic into you just for you to make yourself throw up.
jokes on you my void's bigger
⤞thehuntcontinues
[he resents that zenos makes it sound as if that moment should have meant anything to him. resents the implication it was the loss of something grand warranting forgiveness rather than yet one more death in a long list of them. resents that it did. that it was. that it left him all too keenly aware of a growing maw within his chest. dissatisfaction. apathy. a frenzied peak tapering away in the aftermath leaving emptiness.
his tomestone suffers for the irritation, gripped tight in his hand.]
I do not question why you did it, only that you did. As always and as it has ever been, this "friendship" of yours is for your satisfaction, not mine.
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Who's telling the rest of the scions that Zenos's actions in Endwalker is Ze's fault?
s'fine it'll all work out in thule /handwave
⤞obsidian_heart
[His expression turns somber at the reminder of what it was he meant to do the eve before. Nothing so grim as to require a blade or the like, but enough to grind away at a stone of guilt within his chest. He had meant to...
And had drank himself silly trying to find the courage to do it. A poor comedy, but a comedy nonetheless.]
...It can wait. [He replies after a moment, exhaling softly. He's confident Sidurgu won't push the matter any further- it's not in either of their natures to pry too deeply- but he cannot help the coil of uncertainty that winds about his chest all the same. It's impossible, after all, to not know that his feelings towards the Pillars- towards House Fortemps- is complicated. Not after that spectacular debacle of his soul crystal shattering straight down the middle on their last foray right outside its steps.
Even now, after everything in Gyr Abania, it is not a conversation he is ready to have with others.]
What were you doing awake at this hour anyway? [The turn in conversation is, perhaps, a blatant one as he shuffles alongside the Xaela, trying to find his footing and succeeding only partially. While he's not swayed yet from leaving as soon as able, still not wanting to concern Rielle unnecessarily (and certainly not over a bout of drunken idiocy,) he cannot deny the temptation to stay is there, lingering in the back of his mind. A temptation bolstered by both the desire to delay the inevitable and to spend a little time catching up with those whom he would readily consider close as family.]
raises from the dead with a weakness debuff
The Brume proper remained the cluttered mess it ever was, the rising sun not yet in full view above the walls that closed in Ishgard's bottomdwelling population-- not that it would even breakthrough the current cloud coverage, mind, but the light directly was rare enough outside selective hours when its source was at its peak. Making past the lower level of the Forgotten Knight (undoubtedly still full of patrons passed out and strewn about the place, per usual) Sidurgu can't help but have his mind drift to consider Ze's intention of traveling to the Pillars in the state he had allowed himself to fall into. An inebriated push for confidence gone too far, a distraction turned motivation?
Complicated barely scratched the surface. He knew that much, and likely would only know that much rather than the depths that pierced the surface and broke it in two. The hand bracing Ze's back gives a small rub, wordless in accompany. ]
Hm?
[ Blatant, aye, but Sidurgu was never one for subtleties to begin with. Sidurgu glances down with a quirked brow before scanning the walls of the Brume for a specific, shitty looking door that would be their soon-approaching destination. Home sweet home. ]
Sleep never quite came to me. Fits of waking up were too frequent to allow for much.
[ A common occurrence. He had given Rielle the bed that one could reasonably find sleep on quite some time ago, after all. That sass could easily find source in the same vein of thought. ]
Figured I could keep an eye on waiting for your arse to show signs of life somewhere.
⤞ancientspark
[When the proposal of political marriage had first emerged at the negotiations table, many within the Alliance had thought it a poorly timed joke. Some mismatched sense of humor ill-befitting the somber atmosphere. But no, Maxima had insisted, evidently the offer had been all too serious and had therefore prompted an equally serious response in turn- however scrambled it might be.
The question then, of course, was of who they might offer to such a union- nevermind their lack of understanding of to whom amongst the Garlean royal family the union might be.
Nanamo had come up in passing- as quickly suggested and dismissed for the look upon Raubahn's face. It was a foolish thing to even think, really, for Ul'dah would not relinquish their beloved Sultana to anyone and it was nonsensical to offer a ruler in any regard. Lyse had also been mentioned, though she had swiftly denounced the very notion- claiming she would send the bloody bastard flying as soon as he attempted to place hands upon her. She could also, they had felt, not be spared from the efforts of rebuilding Ala Mhigo. (A paltry excuse, perhaps, but offered with the same amount of dignity one would expect from such a seasoned diplomat as Kan-e-Senna in the spirit of allowing Lyse to save face.) Hien had offered himself- bemused and joking- and Yugiri had nearly grown white hairs on the spot. Aymeric had also tentatively offered his candidacy- claiming to be no true leader of Ishgard and merely a representative of the House of Lords. Merlwyb had swiftly negated the possibility- citing that Aymeric's removal would surely see a regression in Ishgard's open borders policies and sow the seeds of discord as effectively were any of them to wed.
Suggestions thusly made and each calmly refuted left unanswered the question of Who would be a fitting representative of the Eorzean Alliance? That it must needs be someone with enough influence to show they were sincere in their efforts towards the union but not so influential as to potentially cripple a City State went unsaid, but seemingly there were none fit to fill the role.
None, save, perhaps one. And as the silence grew, awkward and uncomfortable with every passing second as those present refused to even so much as glance in his direction, it was Ze who finally broke the tentative silence with a sigh weary enough in its resignation to already herald the obvious conclusion. Nobody had wanted to say it- to offer up their Champion once more like bait upon the platter- and so he said it for them.
(Fray shrieked his disapproval.)
When protests rose up- as inevitably for himself as they had any other suggestion- he merely proclaimed that should it indeed turn out to be a trap intended to force the Alliance's hand- there would be none better equipped than he fight to their way out their way out from the heart of Garlemald. (And, more quietly to himself, he added that if he should fail it would only mean the loss of an adventurer.)
"Steady, lad. You've enough notches to your belt that none here would doubt you- aye, but you're not a god." Raubahn had cautioned him, well-meaning kindness in his words.
"Yet." Hien had offered unhelpfully with a sheepish smile.
There was, of course, the small matter of his presumed murder of the crown prince, but Thancred (in an ill-mood over the whole thing) had merely pointed out that held little water since Zenos was clearly up and about. Lyse (in an equally poor mood) added that if any dared to speak ill of their suggestion upon the grounds of Ze's history considering Garlemald's own, then hang the whole thing and they could go back to the talk of war. (He was a little touched to see how many of those upon the table nodded in agreement of the latter.)
Still, as tempting as the idea was, it was the thought of countless others dying for his failure that kept him from decrying the offer in its entirety. Not, of course, that he expected that to change much if it was indeed a trap. Still, even if that were the case, this route would get him a bit closer to the possibility of a royal assassination and, truth be told, that suited his tastes far better than the dancing about in the politics of war and alliances. There was some danger with the whole plan, of course, but that was only to be expected and certainly it was no less than he might have felt in the face of a primal or surrounded by throngs of murderous wildebeests.
Furthermore, if his only true threat was Elidibus masquerading as Zenos- Ze was more than certain he would be able to handle him. No one had matched him the way the Garlean prince had and he was confident, same body or no, that the Ascian would be no different.
Small consolations, to be certain, but with the added security of an "entourage" in the form of half the Scions (with the other half serving reconnaissance,) Ze felt wholly confident in their ability to pull off this plan. Even if it never came to that- what was a marriage to an uncaring royal in the long run? Surely no well bred Garlean prince/princess would look upon a savage such as he and find him desirable. Once peace was brokered and the entire affair had grown stale, he had no doubt he would be discarded- free to return to his travels with a truce in his pocket for his troubles.
Win-win all around, surely.]
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Almost. Sleep is much better in the long run.
At first, both Hades and Varis believe Elidibus to be joking. A union would not simply solve the issue of the Warrior of Light being a pain in their side. Then again, Themis had been all but lost - drained of all personality and memory - thus there is no reason to believe he is capable of a true joke. Thus he is serious. Yet Emet-Selch can't help but wonder why the change of plan. Change of attitude. The two of them dismiss the current Emperor to discuss this option and why it is even needed.
Plans on the First might have to be put on hold. They have time, after all. Perhaps the best option is to simply wait this one out instead of risk the balance and lose any more of their numbers.
Emet-Selch is loathe to agree. Surely they could simply step in and do away with the creature. Elidibus notes that it isn't so simple. Several of them have attempted and all have failed thusfar. The safer, the more cautious plan is to simply remove the Champion of Eorzea off of the chessboard, so to speak. Then they can simply carry on after the hero's passing along with the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. A few decades won't truly set them back. He shakes his had and crosses his arms. It really is the best option. Look at what Lahabrea's recklessness had gotten him.
Then he waves Elidibus off, stating that he doesn't need Emet-Selch for this nonsense. That's when the man gives an insufferable smile. That is not quite true, is what he says. It's enough to have Hades turn around and give the other a long, hard look.
Eventually the word is given to the faction that seeks a peaceful resolution to all of this "mess." They pass on the "invitation," if one can call it that, for the Scions and the leaders of the Eorzean Alliance to engage in the ancient political art that is arranged marriage. They would offer someone to represent the Alliance and then Garlemald would offer someone of noble blood. A union that would allow Garlemald to hold the provinces that they do while relinquishing Doma and Ala Mhigo with no intentions of proceeding with their global conquest. All the while the Ascians know that there is truly only one option.
The Warrior of Light.
Emet-Selch and Elidibus allow for the people to know about this exchange, this offer. But as for who would be given on the Garlean side of things, many can only believe that it would be Zenos. Who else would be able to pair themselves with a savage but a savage himself? It would be a strong political move for both parties. Whispers abound. Speculation and theorizing. Just who...
Over all it's truly too good of an opportunity for the Alliance to pass up or ignore. That's why the Ascians and Varis aren't at all surprised that the Alliance and the Scions are going to be coming to Garlemald proper. Preparations will be made. Accommodations arranged. They will receive a proper escort to the city with members of Maxima's party and Varis' retainers for good measure.
Elidibus and Emet-Selch both longer in the shadows until it is time. ]
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⤞mintdisaster
[The path is quiet despite the gentle sound of rain- uneven stone steps pattering with building puddles of no consequence. Come morning the ground will only be dampened to hint at the night's weather, gone by noon under a harsh early-summer sun.
None of which, of course, has any bearing on the situation before him.
He'd come at the behest of one rumor or another and no Estinien to accompany him this time on an ill-fated venture. Some tall tale of hidden cities and glowing, ephemeral lights that vanished when one came too close. He had chalked it up to a mirage at most and had marveled that this star still yet had surprises to reveal this close to home when it had proven true. But that was the beauty of it, was it not?
It seemed of the ancient world at a glance, prompting him to wonder if it was mere coincidence that he should encounter so many of these structures now after his time spent in the ancient world, or if they had always been there- waiting to be recognized by a wandering eye.
Unable to keep himself from it, he traced the outer walls with a gloved set of fingers, following those familiar angles while noting that these buildings did indeed seem to dim to nothingness if he ventured too close. For what reason, he had yet to fathom, but it did lend an eerie aura to the entire settlement- as though the buildings themselves were ushering the unknown wanderer away. Begone. There is no light nor refuge for you here. Like a tale murmured 'round a campfire in his youth. The notion almost made him smile as he finally withdrew his hand and continued on his walk to the apparent main-structure of the settlement. This one, much like the others, became enshrouded at the edges as he got closer, yet clung stubbornly to corporeal form despite- enough for him to push open a door much larger than himself. (One already slightly ajar, thankfully. He'd not quite forgotten his woeful attempts in the past.)
Inside- it was much as he expected. Ghostly afterimages of angular wall lights casting a warm (if flickering) glow upon sharp, perfect walls and gold glimmering engravings leading to a desk that towered above him. As he stepped inside the structure, wondering what could prompt the appearance of this city after all this time- something to do with the events of the final days, perhaps? he was startled when his next step seemed to send a ripple through the building, causing it to glow a sudden blinding white- not unlike the pillars of light when he called upon the power of Azem. And as the brightness grew and grew- until he was forced to cover his gaze for fear of going blind- all he could pray was that he hadn't entered a trap.]
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[ That's like the first thing that Ze will hear. For Theron's part, he is shutting down this latest experiment. A theory involving trying to connect ambient aether together together to actually show those faint traces that linger. The ones that people can use to recall past events or feelings if they truly focus on it.
Though he hadn't expected that all of the sudden there would be a shining white light either. Not one that Theron is so familiar with himself. They have been testing this in a fairly remote location! There shouldn't be any traces of Astra nor should the man himself see fit to show up here himself.
All right maybe that isn't entirely true, considering the man's possessive nature but!Theron might be a little reckless as he darts forward, noticing that there is, indeed, something with in the light. Without much thought, he grabs onto it. Pulls it towards himself. ]
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⤞clutterbitch
You sold Estinien a dish of mushed vegetable for 1/3 of a small house. Your heart is as rotten and fetid as a dying Namazu beneath Azeyma's foot. [bro.]
And if you even so much as hint that I might fuck a Grebuloff, I will sell you out to Tataru faster then the next impending disaster to hurl itself upon the face of this star. [he might hate fish.]
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it's full of love!
lousy with it!
to bursting, even!
you'll be gobsmacked. right in the gob. just, utterly smacked.
Estinien likes my mushed vegetables. :(
[ still bleeding profusely, now additionally making a drunken grocery list in the tomestone notes app, including such fine, sensical ingredients as "big plate" and "mushy vegetable (2)" ]
don't criticize my cooking and i won't imply you fuck space namazu.
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forgive me i am turtle
u are perfect no fretting also sorry to hit you back immediately like a goblin
you too are perfect i'm just dying irl ;3;
ahhh i'm so sorry rl should calm down >:( i will tag you back 5ever though!!
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cannot BELIEVE that you find this wabbit tolerable when half your threads with him are drunk ones
my man have you SEEN the scions. this is par the course
which one do you think is actually the most fucked up i bet it's urianger
naked nutkin man is right there
nobody's a bigger freak than an astrology bitch in her slut era tho (stares at that shb outfit)
don't kinkshame a metrosexual
ok but what about hancock
don't. half the fandom is still reeling from how pretty he turned out
would that any one of us could be half as babygirl
yoship was so wrong for that
you can't just give a blonde man eyebags
reckless and unethical.
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⤞geriatric
You cannot be serious. No matter how you accuse me of so, I have not done near a fiftieth the amount of damage of you and yours, if even that.
All of this- all of the calamities- because you cannot relinquish the past? Because the life of those you lost is worth several eras of ours??
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And of course! How could I forget all of the times the Warrior simply left well enough alone! All of those notable events in your life where you relinquished the past and moved onward without taking action to right it.
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i'm too sleepy to plot bc long work day lmao but i will respond tomorrow!
dun worry about it and have a good rest uwu
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it's me! dead!
wb!!! sorry he sucks ass!
it's okay it's his natural state of being
HAHA
whine whine paradise this whine whine cubus flesh that
"back in my day" ok grandpa go sit down
he can't the chairs aren't the right size
lmao truly his life is SO much suffering
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it's np at all!!!
⤞clutterbitch
1. ... [we'll have to blame the 9 tankbusters on this one.]
2. Soft in what way as he monologues the right with which he has to slaughter us?
3/4. Like as not, Emet-Selch and Lahabrea can both linger near the bottom. I care not for the theatrics nor their utter disregard towards their young.
7. Stop making of us a couple in your mind. I could barely tolerate the dastard, even before he revealed his hand.
8. no
back at it again at krispie kreme
2. i suppose that is what he was faffing on about. sometimes it's hard to follow. i was more thinking soft in all the ways he's absolutely out of his gourd over that azem person. the man puts the symbol near everywhere.
3/4. hmm. this hypothetical is starting to get very real, i think.
7. ay matron's tits!! fine!! i'll figure out someone else to smash you with in my mind. [ horrid. ]
8. this is not how you build bridges, Ze.