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No, this is-- this came with being void-touched, later. So did my eyes and skin, and my voice.
[he shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. the tentacles curl idly around his wrist.]
But... no chance of it, yes. Killed with the holy flame of the same Light he always served. [he manages a humorless little breath of what's almost a laugh, there, but it's an ugly thing.] So much for the Light will protect you. He's the one who always cared about it and I'm the one who lived, where was the Light in that?
[he shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. the tentacles curl idly around his wrist.]
But... no chance of it, yes. Killed with the holy flame of the same Light he always served. [he manages a humorless little breath of what's almost a laugh, there, but it's an ugly thing.] So much for the Light will protect you. He's the one who always cared about it and I'm the one who lived, where was the Light in that?
...I don't presume to know him, Ryn. Nor am I bold enough to claim I could ever understand how it was on the field of battle that day.
[He moves a half-step closer, still keeping his distance, but gravitating into his orbit.]
But I do know what it is, to have someone you love look you in the eyes and still choose sacrifice. I objected. I bargained. I begged. And she told me...
[He swallows.]
She told me, "It is not your decision to make." And neither was Aren's yours. It isn't fair. But it was his choice.
[He moves a half-step closer, still keeping his distance, but gravitating into his orbit.]
But I do know what it is, to have someone you love look you in the eyes and still choose sacrifice. I objected. I bargained. I begged. And she told me...
[He swallows.]
She told me, "It is not your decision to make." And neither was Aren's yours. It isn't fair. But it was his choice.
How--
[he manages that first, in disbelief, shaking his head before he finds the rest of his words.]
How can you have gone through that and still want to do it to others, Thancred, I don't understand it.
[thancred's allowed to shift closer; he doesn't back away.]
[he manages that first, in disbelief, shaking his head before he finds the rest of his words.]
How can you have gone through that and still want to do it to others, Thancred, I don't understand it.
[thancred's allowed to shift closer; he doesn't back away.]
...It takes a certain type of personality, I suppose.
[He edges closer again, expression softening.]
The same one, I imagine, that drives a man to take up a sword and shield. You accept that your place is to stand between those you love and the danger that would befall them. And you take heart from knowing that your efforts are the coin that buys them the gift of a chance.
I've never been one to dream, really. I'm far too much the cynic to have any great visions of a better world. But I've loved those who do, and those who stand to make it a reality by their efforts. So I do as I do because I believe in them.
[He edges closer again, expression softening.]
The same one, I imagine, that drives a man to take up a sword and shield. You accept that your place is to stand between those you love and the danger that would befall them. And you take heart from knowing that your efforts are the coin that buys them the gift of a chance.
I've never been one to dream, really. I'm far too much the cynic to have any great visions of a better world. But I've loved those who do, and those who stand to make it a reality by their efforts. So I do as I do because I believe in them.
Then it's different, in his case. I'm not-- he's the one who wanted to try to make the world better, he was better. I never believed all that much in the Light, but he took its tenets seriously, he always... he was twice the healer I was. If one of us was going to survive then it should have been him.
[he's still clinging to the coat wrapped around himself.]
[he's still clinging to the coat wrapped around himself.]
As I recall, you asked me not so very long ago why the one to survive shouldn't be me.
[He nudges closer again; he's well into Rynlan's personal space by now.]
One of the demons asked me once what criteria I thought should go into choosing the attendees for this upcoming party we've been promised. What traits would make a deserving recipient. I told them I wouldn't choose even if I could. Because delving into notions of deciding who deserves to live and who doesn't will only lead to madness.
He didn't do it because you were more deserving than him. He wanted you to live. And whether that decision was noble or selfish or right or wrong — it was his, and he made it out of love.
[He nudges closer again; he's well into Rynlan's personal space by now.]
One of the demons asked me once what criteria I thought should go into choosing the attendees for this upcoming party we've been promised. What traits would make a deserving recipient. I told them I wouldn't choose even if I could. Because delving into notions of deciding who deserves to live and who doesn't will only lead to madness.
He didn't do it because you were more deserving than him. He wanted you to live. And whether that decision was noble or selfish or right or wrong — it was his, and he made it out of love.
You-
[he starts to speak, but cuts himself off, frustrated. reaches out to grab the front of thancred's shirt, hand fisting into the material, but-- he doesn't push him away. he doesn't make any more contact, either, just... holds there.]
...you'd hate being a healer, you know. [a little quieter.] Both of us knew-- we had to learn, early on, what it meant to save as many people as you could. Triage. Managing resources. Losing some to save others. There's never... there are no miracles, in war, you never get to save everyone. We knew.
He was always worse at it.
[he starts to speak, but cuts himself off, frustrated. reaches out to grab the front of thancred's shirt, hand fisting into the material, but-- he doesn't push him away. he doesn't make any more contact, either, just... holds there.]
...you'd hate being a healer, you know. [a little quieter.] Both of us knew-- we had to learn, early on, what it meant to save as many people as you could. Triage. Managing resources. Losing some to save others. There's never... there are no miracles, in war, you never get to save everyone. We knew.
He was always worse at it.
[Oh. When, Thancred can't help but wonder, was the last time he'd been held onto like this? Has he ever?]
I would make a terrible healer. With no ability to use aether? I'd be worse than useless.
[Carefully, with slow movements, he reaches one of his hands up and covers over Ryn's where it's still twisted into his shirt.]
Maybe it should have been you. He was more noble than you. Stronger than you. More of an asset than you. Any medic doing triage would have saved him at the expense of you. A just world would've valued him, and relinquished you.
[His hand tightens, just slightly.]
But none of that matters. He wanted you to live; isn't that enough?
I would make a terrible healer. With no ability to use aether? I'd be worse than useless.
[Carefully, with slow movements, he reaches one of his hands up and covers over Ryn's where it's still twisted into his shirt.]
Maybe it should have been you. He was more noble than you. Stronger than you. More of an asset than you. Any medic doing triage would have saved him at the expense of you. A just world would've valued him, and relinquished you.
[His hand tightens, just slightly.]
But none of that matters. He wanted you to live; isn't that enough?
It's a thought exercise, Thancred, suspend a little disbelief.
[he manages a half smile with that, brief as it is. honestly, roll with him here.
when thancred's hand covers his, he doesn't shy from the touch-- it seems to ease a little tension, after a moment. rynlan denies it, often turns down offered contact, but maybe he's a little starved for it. a little bit.
and as for what he says-- honestly, in a fucked up little way he's wanted to hear this for years. to not be told he's wrong. to be acknowledged in his thoughts, rational or not, and then told it didn't matter.
the breath he takes in shakes, slightly.]
It was hard. I didn't want to. If I had it in me to resent him for making me live I just might've.
[but he didn't. he couldn't. not him.]
[he manages a half smile with that, brief as it is. honestly, roll with him here.
when thancred's hand covers his, he doesn't shy from the touch-- it seems to ease a little tension, after a moment. rynlan denies it, often turns down offered contact, but maybe he's a little starved for it. a little bit.
and as for what he says-- honestly, in a fucked up little way he's wanted to hear this for years. to not be told he's wrong. to be acknowledged in his thoughts, rational or not, and then told it didn't matter.
the breath he takes in shakes, slightly.]
It was hard. I didn't want to. If I had it in me to resent him for making me live I just might've.
[but he didn't. he couldn't. not him.]
Very well, I would be an unthinkably terrible healer.
[The half-smile is worth it. Sue him for gunning for a full one.]
...For what it's worth, I think you do resent him. Not for making you live, but for leaving you. It just feels wrong to be angry — it feels ungrateful. He gave his life for you; what a miserable fraction of a creature you would have to be, to resent him after that.
But you know it was cruel of him. Because you do have it in you to resent me when I suggest I might do the very same thing.
[He squeezes his hand again, gently.]
We were never down here, Ryn, and I never saw this. No one to hear or know, if you did let yourself admit it.
[The half-smile is worth it. Sue him for gunning for a full one.]
...For what it's worth, I think you do resent him. Not for making you live, but for leaving you. It just feels wrong to be angry — it feels ungrateful. He gave his life for you; what a miserable fraction of a creature you would have to be, to resent him after that.
But you know it was cruel of him. Because you do have it in you to resent me when I suggest I might do the very same thing.
[He squeezes his hand again, gently.]
We were never down here, Ryn, and I never saw this. No one to hear or know, if you did let yourself admit it.
...sometimes it feels, [he starts off, quiet,] like he didn't think about me at all when he did it. I don't have family left. Our friends were-- mostly his at the time. He met me at my lowest and dragged me up out of it, he knows I wouldn't have made it if he weren't there, what-- why did he think I would want to live alone? Did he not realize what would happen after he was gone?
[he clings a little tighter, there, knuckles white, but he refuses to step closer.]
Here I am, dead before 150 anyway.
[he clings a little tighter, there, knuckles white, but he refuses to step closer.]
Here I am, dead before 150 anyway.
...How often did he chide you for thinking too much? I suspect he did.
[Another step closer; they're nearly toe to toe by now, which is more than a little comical given the discrepancy in their heights. More's the pity, really; it would be nice to gather Ryn in and tuck his head against his shoulder and hold him, but it's just not feasible for a lot of different reasons.]
Mayhap there's no making sense of it, no matter how hard you try, or how much you might want to. It's all right to miss him. If you want to just...let yourself miss him.
[Another step closer; they're nearly toe to toe by now, which is more than a little comical given the discrepancy in their heights. More's the pity, really; it would be nice to gather Ryn in and tuck his head against his shoulder and hold him, but it's just not feasible for a lot of different reasons.]
Mayhap there's no making sense of it, no matter how hard you try, or how much you might want to. It's all right to miss him. If you want to just...let yourself miss him.
[hey guess what chums are you sick of RANDOMLY FALLING INTO HOLES by now because GUESS THE HELL WHAT have we got a SURPRISE FOR YOU
|| What — what's this? Something is...interfering with the equipment! the Loporrit cries incredulously, one heartbeat before the alarms begin to sound.
5:50 worth of cutscenes far more convenient to watch rather than transcribing them all out here, the memory shifts —
To the landscape of Ultima Thule, black and green and ultraviolet, an ultimatum of decay and regret nested there at the very edge of the sea of stars. Seven figures stand in the midst of a barren landscape, surrounded by smog and the ridged white ghosts of dragons: two tall elves, one in armor and one in robes; two short ones, identical but for the colors they wear. Three with furred ears and tails, each bearing a staff of a different design on their backs.
The eighth figure in their midst hovers above them on a platform invisible to the naked eye; she is smaller than all of them, ink-black and grey like she's had all the color leached out of her. She is birdlike, with clawed talons in place of feet and wings jutting from the sides of her head. She is the center of attention, for all those assembled.
Our friend Thancred, asks the elf in robes, his stance shifting like he's bracing for a fight to accompany his answer. Where is he?
The birdlike girl smiles sweetly, cocking her head. Mocking him.
A strange question, she answers innocently, like a child gleeful with a secret. He is at your side, is he not? Oh, yes — he is here, and there, and everywhere within this space.
Her smile sharpens. He would tell you himself, if he had form to form words.
The robed elf's eyes narrow; a mixture of confusion, uncertainty, and dread crosses the expressions of the others assembled, one by one. And the bird-girl's look turns wryly pitying, as she casts her eyes down at them again.
Huh. Such loathing and uncertainty...you don't know why you still exist, she remarks. In like manner to the oblivion I send, I tried to drown out your aether with dynamis. Beginning with this Thancred, who came at me despite being unable to breathe.
It quickly becomes apparent that the bird-girl is enjoying the horror of the seven assembled below her; as the terrible recognition begins to dawn in each of them, she looks only more pleased, carrying on with her explanation as if to further twist the knife:
Such a simple thing, unmaking men. In the blinking of an eye, he was gone. Didn't even have the chance to be transformed.
But then, her own expression darkens, just slightly. Yet somehow, he managed to leave a sliver of himself behind. What you call...the heart...or perhaps the soul? In his final moment, he...cried out from it. A single word.
"Survive." ||
As as the robed elf on the memory screen gasps, taken aback with wide-eyed horror, Thancred finds he can't bring himself to look at Ryn — suddenly afraid he'll see the exact same expression mirrored there on his face as well.]
5:50 worth of cutscenes far more convenient to watch rather than transcribing them all out here, the memory shifts —
To the landscape of Ultima Thule, black and green and ultraviolet, an ultimatum of decay and regret nested there at the very edge of the sea of stars. Seven figures stand in the midst of a barren landscape, surrounded by smog and the ridged white ghosts of dragons: two tall elves, one in armor and one in robes; two short ones, identical but for the colors they wear. Three with furred ears and tails, each bearing a staff of a different design on their backs.
The eighth figure in their midst hovers above them on a platform invisible to the naked eye; she is smaller than all of them, ink-black and grey like she's had all the color leached out of her. She is birdlike, with clawed talons in place of feet and wings jutting from the sides of her head. She is the center of attention, for all those assembled.
Our friend Thancred, asks the elf in robes, his stance shifting like he's bracing for a fight to accompany his answer. Where is he?
The birdlike girl smiles sweetly, cocking her head. Mocking him.
A strange question, she answers innocently, like a child gleeful with a secret. He is at your side, is he not? Oh, yes — he is here, and there, and everywhere within this space.
Her smile sharpens. He would tell you himself, if he had form to form words.
The robed elf's eyes narrow; a mixture of confusion, uncertainty, and dread crosses the expressions of the others assembled, one by one. And the bird-girl's look turns wryly pitying, as she casts her eyes down at them again.
Huh. Such loathing and uncertainty...you don't know why you still exist, she remarks. In like manner to the oblivion I send, I tried to drown out your aether with dynamis. Beginning with this Thancred, who came at me despite being unable to breathe.
It quickly becomes apparent that the bird-girl is enjoying the horror of the seven assembled below her; as the terrible recognition begins to dawn in each of them, she looks only more pleased, carrying on with her explanation as if to further twist the knife:
Such a simple thing, unmaking men. In the blinking of an eye, he was gone. Didn't even have the chance to be transformed.
But then, her own expression darkens, just slightly. Yet somehow, he managed to leave a sliver of himself behind. What you call...the heart...or perhaps the soul? In his final moment, he...cried out from it. A single word.
"Survive." ||
As as the robed elf on the memory screen gasps, taken aback with wide-eyed horror, Thancred finds he can't bring himself to look at Ryn — suddenly afraid he'll see the exact same expression mirrored there on his face as well.]
[ah, he knows rynlan so well already. that's exactly the look on his face, after watching all this, seeing their reactions, the way thancred was immediately asked after.
the way he came at her despite being unable to breathe. rynlan doesn't have to wonder why.
if he's not looking, though, he'll miss it when ryn abruptly grabs him by the collar of his coat and shoves, a motion clearly meant to push his back against the wall. whether it works is another thing entirely; even angry, he just doesn't have much physical strength, the force behind it lacking for all his intent.]
You-- I'd ask what you were thinking, but I doubt I have to, you just-- you weren't, were you?
the way he came at her despite being unable to breathe. rynlan doesn't have to wonder why.
if he's not looking, though, he'll miss it when ryn abruptly grabs him by the collar of his coat and shoves, a motion clearly meant to push his back against the wall. whether it works is another thing entirely; even angry, he just doesn't have much physical strength, the force behind it lacking for all his intent.]
You-- I'd ask what you were thinking, but I doubt I have to, you just-- you weren't, were you?
[It works, surprisingly enough, which arguably says more about Thancred's cocktail of emotions in this moment than Rynlan's — but his shoulderblades hit the wall with an audible thud as he just sort of allows himself to be moved and thrown like it's the correct outcome to this particular situation.]
I didn't know.
[For all that his voice is otherwise steady, there's a twist of guilt in it. Not for anything he did in Ultima Thule; just for what he knows seeing this has done to Ryn now.]
You don't understand what that was. None of us did, not until it was already too late for me.
I didn't know.
[For all that his voice is otherwise steady, there's a twist of guilt in it. Not for anything he did in Ultima Thule; just for what he knows seeing this has done to Ryn now.]
You don't understand what that was. None of us did, not until it was already too late for me.
It was the source of a calamity that was gripping our star. One that had ended countless other worlds before ours, consuming them in despair until all life was eradicated. We went to Ultima Thule with no knowledge of what we would find there, borne on hope alone, because we were given the chance to flee the destruction that was coming for us and instead we chose to fight.
[He presses his lips together into a tight line.]
But what we found there was nothingness. No life, no aether. Not one of us would have lived had we set foot outside that ship. There was nothing. Nothing but dynamis saturated with countless centuries of hatred and sorrow and loss.
None of us knew what she was capable of, in the seat of her own power, there in her nest.
[He presses his lips together into a tight line.]
But what we found there was nothingness. No life, no aether. Not one of us would have lived had we set foot outside that ship. There was nothing. Nothing but dynamis saturated with countless centuries of hatred and sorrow and loss.
None of us knew what she was capable of, in the seat of her own power, there in her nest.
Well it was a little more complicated than that!
[something something world unification big damn heroes moment]
Yes. That is what we did. We decided to fight for the star that we love and our right to live upon it. For everyone's right to live upon it.
[The corners of his mouth pull back, just a fraction. It's not a smile.]
Because the only other option was triage. Not enough room to take everyone and flee. A council of a hundred isolationist academics deciding who would be granted a place and who would be left behind. They would leave the undesirables, of course. Abandon the ones who might cause trouble. Pack up everything they could carry and turn tail and run.
[something something world unification big damn heroes moment]
Yes. That is what we did. We decided to fight for the star that we love and our right to live upon it. For everyone's right to live upon it.
[The corners of his mouth pull back, just a fraction. It's not a smile.]
Because the only other option was triage. Not enough room to take everyone and flee. A council of a hundred isolationist academics deciding who would be granted a place and who would be left behind. They would leave the undesirables, of course. Abandon the ones who might cause trouble. Pack up everything they could carry and turn tail and run.
There wasn't-
[...he falls silent, there, mouth pulling into a frown, long brows furrowed. not enough room for everyone to leave their world, to survive-- and survival would mean restarting completely. somewhere wholly unfamiliar.
rynlan isn't sure what sounds more terrifying: facing the source like they did, or risking being left behind.]
...it wasn't just them. The people with you. It was... it was everyone.
[the people he wanted to save, the world he wanted to save. it was all of it.]
[...he falls silent, there, mouth pulling into a frown, long brows furrowed. not enough room for everyone to leave their world, to survive-- and survival would mean restarting completely. somewhere wholly unfamiliar.
rynlan isn't sure what sounds more terrifying: facing the source like they did, or risking being left behind.]
...it wasn't just them. The people with you. It was... it was everyone.
[the people he wanted to save, the world he wanted to save. it was all of it.]
There are six — six worlds, six shards, that surround our star. Whole worlds, filled with cities and peoples and history. I lived on one of them for five years. The same shard my Minfilia looked me in the eyes and chose sacrifice to save.
[That's a very conspicuously-chosen turn of phrase. It's one he's uttered before, albeit in a strikingly different tone than this.]
None of them were part of the plan.
[After a moment, he lets out a slow breath, behind clenched teeth. It shakes.]
Did you hear her say didn't have the chance to be transformed? D'you want to know what happens to a person claimed by the power of dynamis? They become abominations, roiling with fear and hatred, whose influence spreads like a virus to any other who surrenders to despair in their presence. And when they're slain, they leave nothing. No return to the aetherial sea. No trace left of the person they once were. They don't leave a body or a heart or a soul, because dynamis consumes them wholly and utterly and leaves nothing left in its wake.
[That's a very conspicuously-chosen turn of phrase. It's one he's uttered before, albeit in a strikingly different tone than this.]
None of them were part of the plan.
[After a moment, he lets out a slow breath, behind clenched teeth. It shakes.]
Did you hear her say didn't have the chance to be transformed? D'you want to know what happens to a person claimed by the power of dynamis? They become abominations, roiling with fear and hatred, whose influence spreads like a virus to any other who surrenders to despair in their presence. And when they're slain, they leave nothing. No return to the aetherial sea. No trace left of the person they once were. They don't leave a body or a heart or a soul, because dynamis consumes them wholly and utterly and leaves nothing left in its wake.
[he recoils slightly, at that, at the horror of the thought of it. of there being nothing at all, no soul, no life, just... snuffed out. like they never existed at all.
...damn it all, he can't-- he can't be angry with him over this. over deciding that if worlds were going to die anyway, it's worth trying.]
So you... you gave them the chance to do something about it.
...damn it all, he can't-- he can't be angry with him over this. over deciding that if worlds were going to die anyway, it's worth trying.]
So you... you gave them the chance to do something about it.
Inadvertently. I...as it was explained to me after, the results of what had happened to me gave my much more scholarly colleagues the clues they needed to progress forward.
[So yes. He really did kind of save everyone.]
Dynamis draws its power from emotion. Or...something like that. My emotion was strong enough to overpower hers. So long as my desire for them to survive remained stronger than her desire to claim them...that landscape existed, and could support life.
The very ground on which they stood. The air they had to breathe. [He draws a slow breath.] It endured for them, so long as my resolve did.
[So yes. He really did kind of save everyone.]
Dynamis draws its power from emotion. Or...something like that. My emotion was strong enough to overpower hers. So long as my desire for them to survive remained stronger than her desire to claim them...that landscape existed, and could support life.
The very ground on which they stood. The air they had to breathe. [He draws a slow breath.] It endured for them, so long as my resolve did.
...I really don't understand why you'd ever be in a place like this, Thancred.
[to feel so strongly about saving them, about wanting them to live, that it would overpower her--
thancred's a much better person than he is, he's sure.]
Was that how you...?
[to feel so strongly about saving them, about wanting them to live, that it would overpower her--
thancred's a much better person than he is, he's sure.]
Was that how you...?
No. I survived this — we all did. Because it didn't end with just me. Every time the group sought to advance, one of them had to give themselves up to make the path for the rest. One by one, the lot of us, until all that remained was the redheaded girl with the staff.
Before we'd embarked for Ultima Thule, our patron goddess had given her power sufficient to call us all back to her side, if she'd so desired it. And yet she couldn't, because to call us back — me back — would be to unmake everything we'd formed of our hopes and dreams. An unwinnable situation.
[He shrugs, like he's trying to turn the conversation lighthearted and doesn't quite succeed at it.]
But leave it to her to find a way regardless. She's rather a knack for it.
Before we'd embarked for Ultima Thule, our patron goddess had given her power sufficient to call us all back to her side, if she'd so desired it. And yet she couldn't, because to call us back — me back — would be to unmake everything we'd formed of our hopes and dreams. An unwinnable situation.
[He shrugs, like he's trying to turn the conversation lighthearted and doesn't quite succeed at it.]
But leave it to her to find a way regardless. She's rather a knack for it.
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