Given their conversation happened in the forest when they weren't even certain there would be a Greentruth to find, Cid isn't certain if Estinien remembers the request he made to Cid about a new lance, better than the weapon he had been using.
It's also possible, Cid concedes, that Estinien hadn't been entirely serious. It's not as though he knows the man well.
Still, a request is a request, and even on an entire different star, Garlond Ironwork's creed remains.
The lance he's carrying is obvious at a glanc— certainly not anything like the blacksmiths and carpenters of Ishgard could create, or even what Cid could create if he had access to the Ironworks' workshops. But it looks sturdy, with enough bend to it to handle incredible jumps in the air, and with a spear tip that while lacking any decoration, looks decidedly powerful. "I have something for you."
Given that he's a day or two out of a knife to the back, Estinien has had little choice but to take it easy in the days since the shrine battles. He's definitely forgotten the offhand request he made to Cid back at the start of Lovaseri... when means when he lifts his gaze from the place he's resting, his eyebrows shoot right up.
His wings are currently exposed as their seemingly only heal when summoned. Because of this, he wobbles a bit as he abruptly gets to his feet, their uneven weight tripping him up as the wounds in his gut and shoulder protest. He still wastes no time in coming forward, reaching out to take the spear in hand first and foremost, wanting to feel its weight from the instant he's laid eyes on it.
"Did you make this in Greentruth?" he asks, looking impressed by the very notion of creating something so respectable with Greentruth's limited supplies.
Cid pauses, looking awkward, like he should have offered to help the man up first, but he seems to recover quickly enough, so he straightens up a bit at the question. "Aye, I did," he confirms as Estinien takes it. "I spent most of the moon repairing their armaments with what supplies they have. When I asked where I could find materials to make a lance, they offered their own stock."
He sounds fairly pleased at this, even if it does make him wonder if it puts Greentruth at a disadvantage. "I figure I'll have to venture out to replenish their stock at some point in thanks."
Nothing comes between Estinien and a good spear, not even multiple stabs to the gut. He takes it in his hands, feeling the balance, and then twirling it around as dragoons are wont to do. The corner of his lips quirk with satisfaction as he brings it down to examine the tip more closely.
"You've excellent timing. The one I received in Godsblood is significantly worse for wear after our battle with the Kenoma."
While it was still good for some casual stabbing, the shaft was damaged. Having a new one, made by Ironworks nonetheless, would be much preferred.
"Aye, though. The people here lack a means to collect ideal ore, it seems. I'd spoken to Master Eleven about attaining some on their behalf, but 'tis admittedly outside of my expertise."
The little smile growing in the corner of Cid's lips is proof he's quite pleased. It's been a long time since he's outright designed weapons, but it's something he can slide back into easily enough. Especially given the stakes.
"I hope it'll last you some time. I'm sure we'll be outmatched no matter what, when it comes to confronting the Kenoma directly."
But, now that Estinien has brought up someone else wanting to gather ore directly... "Though I admittedly more about refining ceruleum than directly going out and mining resources, I'm familiar with the process. I doubt that that much would change between worlds." The problem would really be finding it, but with enough people and tools, Cid is confident they could bring it back to be refined into something sturdier than current supplies.
"That's more than I can say," Estinien admits. Mining is, in fact, one of the many life skills he knows nothing about. The woes of having min-maxed himself as a warrior. "Yet, when my wounds are healed, I would be full glad to offer my lance to your cause. I expect that wandering beasts are as much of a threat here as they are in Eorzea."
The little smile growing in the corner of Cid's lips is proof he's quite pleased. It's been a long time since he's outright designed weapons, but it's something he can slide back into easily enough. Especially given the stakes.
"Aye, I'm certain of that much. I will be capable of helping look for anything nasty when we're on the move, though obviously I won't be as capable when I'm actually mining the resources."
Though, that will have to wait. "I wish you a speed recovery."
Though they may have completely different professions, Cid would also hate needing to be idle for any period of time.
[ This conversation has been weighing on Howl's mind for a week now. One second, he feels like he can't wait any longer to see if he's back or not and, damn it, just reach out already and hope the dragoon's mind is there. The next minute, he's cursing himself for even considering making contact, and when their clash a month earlier inevitably plays back in his head again for the umpteenth time, cursing himself all over again for all his foolish mistakes.
It's in one of those dreadful moments of quiet, where there's nothing to distract Howl from his own thoughts, that he cannot handle his mental restlessness any longer. In the privacy of his quarters in Achamoth, he gazes out his window to the wilds that spread out north of the city and holds his Shard in front of his body.
There really isn't any plan here. The most Howl understands about his own feelings is the simple need to know that Estinien did actually come back. Who knows what complications could have arisen, considering everything that happened. And while he doesn't expect Estinien to want to talk to him, the pressure in his head is simply too great at this point. He needs to get this over with. ]
Are you back?
[ Howl does his best to keep back his emotions and transmit only the message itself, but... well. Emotional self-control isn't one of his talents. The question comes with a complex mix of worry, pity, fear... and yes, a trace of some shame and anger too. ]
[When he feels Howl's presence attempting to get through to his Shard, Estinien has a moment where he wonders why he hasn't simply refused contact from the Kenoma entirely. There's less and less to say, he feels, especially now. Maybe it's because he didn't want to miss the opportunity, were any of them to decide to tell him of their plans before going through with them, much as Howl had.
All the same, he does take his Shard from his chest, as much as he winces at the sight of the strange shards of light flickering within it.]
Is it really your concern?
[Some of the sullenness Estinien has been stewing in for the last few days comes through. He doesn't see any reason to censor himself, in this regard.]
[ If Howl had a heart, it would be jumping into his throat right now. He'd been hoping for a response, of course, but he was half-expecting to be ignored entirely, even if Estinien was there to hear him.
Faced now with the fact that he's actually talking with the other man, words escape him. Communion is there to pick up the slack. The moment of silence is filled with a strong sense of genuine, earnest relief. ]
Of course it is.
[ He takes a deep breath, stuffing down the surge of emotion. It mixes in with his agitated inner conflict, and he continues. ]
I take no pleasure in unnecessary suffering. Not even against you. Not before I see you again.
[ Howl leaves no pause for Estinien to offer any response to that particular statement. He continues: ]
You have no reason to listen to me. I know. But I ask that you allow me to speak anyway.
[Just as before, Howl's emotions do a lot of the speaking for him. In the moment, though, Estinien isn't sure how much he can afford to care. Maybe he was a fool for indulging the Kenoma as much as he has so far. Makoto had said it himself.
All the same...]
Out with it, then.
[If he wants a chance to speak, he must have something to say.]
[ Now that the moment is upon him, Howl finds his trepidation beginning to fade. The tumultuous emotional state seeping into their connection slows down as the young wizard begins to speak. He's thought hard and long about what he'd say to Estinien next time they spoke, after all — and the Regent's forced re-educatation only served to append more thoughts to the end of it, not change the core sentiment. ]
I am alive today because of your mercy. There is no denying otherwise.
[ As Howl begins to calm, and the emotional background grows silent, something still and cold begins to trickle in to take its place. But for now, it's nothing but a droplet of ink dispersing in a pool of water. ]
You asked me back then if I wanted you to kill me. And my answer is still no.
But that isn't the full truth. Perhaps it is more accurate to say that I was asking you to do your best.
[The scoffing sound Estinien makes can only really be translated on an emotional level, coming through as a feeling of pointed skepticism. He doesn't know what Howl means, and he doesn't like having to ask.]
[ What else? There's a note of amusement, and then it fades into the encroaching coldness. ]
And you did. The only reason I still still draw breath is because you did not take my life from me that day. All you took was that vial.
[ There's a pause. The cold mentality is too conspicuous to ignore now. And if Estinien ponders it for more than a few seconds, he may find that the strange aura is... familiar. ]
For that simple fact, I owe you my thanks. Because without your mercy, everything that happened after I returned to Achamoth would never have come to pass.
[ By now, the aura is unmistakable. It's the Kenoma. It is vibrating quietly in the background of every word coming from Howl's mind. ]
Everything I learned. The clarity I gained. The peace. I didn't have this understanding of my mission here, what the Regent is trying to do, until my spectacular failure moved them to step in.
[There is the strong compulsion to just put his Shard away and abandon this situation entirely. He can already feel the way that this has all gone wrong through Howl's mental state. Maybe a couple of weeks ago, he would have been inclined to weather it. Now, though, it only seems like the newest condemnation on the pile.
He clearly has no business involving himself with this, and he would rather not. Still, he won't push Howl away quite yet.]
They stepped in, did they? And what did they do to bring you such 'peace'?
[Peace is starting to feel overrated, if this is what it results in.]
[ Ah, but Estinien is already involved in this. Howl is thanking him for his involvement. Those words of thanks are not sardonic or taunting, but completely genuine; he is grateful for the way things have played out between them.
Howl does understand, of course, that expressing his gratitude is likely to come across as negative or hostile, but he feels a need to thank him all the same. It's related to the main point that he's leading up to, the final thing he's like to say before the communion is cut. Estinien's question makes him pause for that reason: he isn't done yet, and he's not sure how much longer he'll have to speak. But as he's considering the question, he thinks to himself... couldn't answering his curiosity help him understand, too? ]
You want to know? [ Howl mulls it over. He suspects that any recounting of what happened will be insufficient. Words cannot convey what happened to him or how it transformed his perspective. Most likely, Estinien will simply take issue with it. At the same time, one must let others work through those feelings and come to their own conclusions, don't they. That's certainly what Howl thinks he did himself by coming to this "peace", although that could not be farther from reality. ]
[ In the mental space where their minds are overlapping to facilitate communion, Howl's half starts to shift. It squeezes and expands outwards, breaching the limitations of communication through words, to telegraph a string fuzzy memories instead.
It begins with Howl's fateful conversation with the Regent, wherein Howl's irresponsibility and defiance finally exceeded the masked figure's remaining patience. The fear Howl felt in that moment is imprinted into the memory. It was so great that he dared to essentially hang up on the Regent and start flying towards the outskirts of the city... to flee. Howl had actually made it to the point of self-salvation, of wanting to leave the Kenoma of his own volition... but it would be the beginning of a new, horrible normal instead.
His flight was cut short by Howl's encounter with Dionys, a second elder Aion in Achamoth, one which Estinien may not have even heard of yet. It's clear from the memory that Howl finds her wickedly beautiful, almost irresistible, although in the moment she confronted him, he was still terrified of her. She wielded one of the same whips the Hylician soldiers used, and after quickly subduing him, she used her multi-barbed tail to inject a heavy dose of poison into him.
At this point the memory becomes a chaotic blur. That first dose of poison can only be described as torture, a mix of excruciating pain, thrilling physical pleasure, and a pacifying effect that made Howl powerless to Dionys' commands. As beautiful as she already was to Howl, she became akin to a goddess after injecting her venom. After that, there's a storm of unorganized memories, thrown out of order or common sense by the merciless re-educatation that followed. It's hard to parse exactly, but it seems Howl was taken to a dark, secluded room, away from any other Aion, and forcibly separated from his Shard. From there, and while enduring the skin-crawling discomfort and vulnerability the separation caused, Howl was subject to humiliating and dehumanizing treatment at Dionys' hand. She treated him like a plaything, leaving him without food or water between the bouts of torture, but with plenty of poison.
That poison was the key to the whole process. When Howl resisted or tried to hold true to his convictions, the agony and infatuation intensified. Every time he listened to Dionys and surrendered another inch to the Kenoma, it transformed into incredible ecstacy. All the while, Dionys — the only other Celebrant Aion — exploited their passive, unavoidable empathic bond to "persuade" him further, all while keeping his Shard tantalizingly out of reach. Like dangling a goatskin of water in front of a man dying of thirst. And as the days passed, he began to enjoy how he was treated.
When the memories finally stop shuffling about and settle back into a concrete timeline, Howl has been broken in. Of course, that's not how Howl would describe it, but it would be clear to any onlooker. Instead, as he shows the memory of his release from custody to Estinien, the associated emotions are nothing but positive. Happiness. Invigoration, as if he'd just taken a vacation. Lingering adoration for the Aion who'd just tortured him for a week. And, the peace and acceptance Howl had described before, too. For such a powerful wizard, Howl has lived a life of feeling overwhelmingly powerless, and the Kenoma frees him from that shame.
The entire conveyance doesn't take more than a minute. Memories are funny things in that way — unless a person takes the time to study a sequence of events in a memory, one by one as they happened, they'll tend to remember all parts of it almost at once. One thing that Howl is careful to show Estinien in full detail is when he walked out of the basement of Dionys' brothel, back into the spring sunlight, with new resolve. An undeniable understanding of the Kenoma, his soul nourishing the roots that had used the week to bore even deeper into his soul. To Howl, the time he spent locked away was ultimately a rewarding, even fun experience, although the worryingly large gaps in his memory of the time he spent there — likely when even more atrocious abuse occurred — are not contemplated on.
Howl waits after he is done. He asked a question, and Howl answered it. Will he bother to say anything? ]
[Estinien listens and observes despite his grown unease - after all, this shouldn't be a surprise to him. It was already clear that the Regent was not above torture to achieve her ends, not to breaking the minds of those reluctant to be in their service. That it would to Howl, after how conflicted he was... it would only make sense.
And yet, he had let it happen. Somehow, his comrades had convinced him that destroying the Kenoma was ineffectual, unconstructive. For some reason, he'd listened, and he'd let this to happen, even when he'd had the power to avoid it.
On top of everything he's just faced, it pushes him into a corner that he feels the irrepressible need to break free of. What could he say, at this juncture? With Howl earnestly selling this to him as a good thing?
It's mostly these feelings that Howl will get a sense of, of a sense of failure, frustration, and regret, followed by only brief words.]
That is not 'peace'. You're lost, Howl.
[But before Howl could pull him into a debate on the subject, he will tune out the connection, replacing his Shard in his chest.]
[ Childe doesn't even bother asking if he's alive or not. If he's not, Estinien simply won't get the message or something, right? Not that he would be completely surprised to be ignored, too, but he imagines he'll be able to tell the difference. ]
[Childe will feel a presence on the other side, even if Estinien seems a bit hesitant to answer. Eventually, his desire for information gets the better of him... not that he seems all that enthusiastic.]
[He's tried to reach out to her, but to no avail.]
We've lost touch with her.
[He would go into more detail, but Childe honestly has no business knowing their living circumstances. It's news he's unhappy enough to deliver in the first place.]
[ there's a strange sensation from Childe's end, but it seems to be more straightforward usual as it is definitely akin to honest frustration.
It's not surprising, really: he suspected as much. ] ...I see.
[ that brief feeling of emotions are suddenly restrained on his end to leave nothing leaking out beyond the fact that he's still there. He doesn't linger in silence, though, opting to not waste the others time if he can help it. ]
The other thing is: have you heard on your end of things something referred to by others as the Darkness?
[There's a moment where it seems like Estinien might say more, but he doesn't, in the end. He knows that Childe had an entire moment when it came to the way they met Aerith, but he isn't sure what he could say about it now. He feels out of his depth dealing with whatever is going on in this man's head.]
The Darkness? I would assume they mean the Kenoma, given what it is.
That's the most logical conclusion since it was my first thought, too, then. Guess I'll ask the Regent directly.
Thanks.
[ apparently Childe doesn't seem interested in prolonging a conversation that doesn't seem to give any new information right off the bat so it's safe to say he's not actively fishing for any information, at least. ]
text + memories | shortly prior to the raid on achamoth | cw brief descriptions of torture
( as the Legacy of the firebrand grows in strength, as if alight in the sky above horos, makoto does all that he can to harness its waxing influence — he reaches out into that Legacy, sifting through those that share its mark, and he attempts to find estinien. in waiting for the ideal moment, once the Regent has deemed that all preparations were in proper form, he has been practicing this moment for some time. for weeks, actually, he has been meditating on how best to share this lovely invitation to their capitol, primed like the waiting jaws of a trap baited with something he did not think the dragoon would be able to resist.
he leverages this, all of this, to try to force through whatever barriers of refusal estinien might rise to keep him out. makoto is, in the end, a very effective and efficient engine of anger and spite, and he brings that all to bear here.
which makes it somewhat surprising, should the message break through. at first, it is oddly silent and still, comprised of nothing but the slow scrawl of words written in an extravagant hand, the metaphorical ink bleeding red as if with blood: )
To the Dragoon Estinien and all souls brave enough to join him, Firaseri wears on, and all of us in Achamoth are ready to welcome you. We hope to be gracious and attentive hosts, just as we have been to those among you who have been partaking of our hospitality since the previous moon.
( here the text tears away abruptly, replaced instead by a sudden injection of memories. cast from makoto's perspective, they reveal a dim room in the dungeons beneath the citadel, empty but for abel chained against one wall and himeka restrained in a chair in its center. makoto has spent long hours agonizing over how best to share this information with his enemy, and he had settled on an abbreviated version, though one that captures all of the most intense of moments. the amount of time he has spent meditating on these memories and their presentation makes what he shows alarming in its clarity, and what's worse is that he provides the contextual color of his own emotion to bleed through along the memory's edges. a twisted sort of pleasure and satisfaction as the cruel edge of a knife cuts shallow anatomical lines throug himeka's flesh; a vague vexation as abel struggles in vain against the chains that restrain him; he in particular allows the sound of the young woman's scream as that same blade pries free from her skin a few scintillating scales that disappear into his hand with a sense of possession. )
We excitedly await your arrival. I excitedly await your arrival. Until then, ever yours,
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
forward dated to the very end of the month
It's also possible, Cid concedes, that Estinien hadn't been entirely serious. It's not as though he knows the man well.
Still, a request is a request, and even on an entire different star, Garlond Ironwork's creed remains.
The lance he's carrying is obvious at a glanc— certainly not anything like the blacksmiths and carpenters of Ishgard could create, or even what Cid could create if he had access to the Ironworks' workshops. But it looks sturdy, with enough bend to it to handle incredible jumps in the air, and with a spear tip that while lacking any decoration, looks decidedly powerful. "I have something for you."
HERE WE GO
His wings are currently exposed as their seemingly only heal when summoned. Because of this, he wobbles a bit as he abruptly gets to his feet, their uneven weight tripping him up as the wounds in his gut and shoulder protest. He still wastes no time in coming forward, reaching out to take the spear in hand first and foremost, wanting to feel its weight from the instant he's laid eyes on it.
"Did you make this in Greentruth?" he asks, looking impressed by the very notion of creating something so respectable with Greentruth's limited supplies.
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He sounds fairly pleased at this, even if it does make him wonder if it puts Greentruth at a disadvantage. "I figure I'll have to venture out to replenish their stock at some point in thanks."
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"You've excellent timing. The one I received in Godsblood is significantly worse for wear after our battle with the Kenoma."
While it was still good for some casual stabbing, the shaft was damaged. Having a new one, made by Ironworks nonetheless, would be much preferred.
"Aye, though. The people here lack a means to collect ideal ore, it seems. I'd spoken to Master Eleven about attaining some on their behalf, but 'tis admittedly outside of my expertise."
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"I hope it'll last you some time. I'm sure we'll be outmatched no matter what, when it comes to confronting the Kenoma directly."
But, now that Estinien has brought up someone else wanting to gather ore directly... "Though I admittedly more about refining ceruleum than directly going out and mining resources, I'm familiar with the process. I doubt that that much would change between worlds." The problem would really be finding it, but with enough people and tools, Cid is confident they could bring it back to be refined into something sturdier than current supplies.
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"Aye, I'm certain of that much. I will be capable of helping look for anything nasty when we're on the move, though obviously I won't be as capable when I'm actually mining the resources."
Though, that will have to wait. "I wish you a speed recovery."
Though they may have completely different professions, Cid would also hate needing to be idle for any period of time.
a few days after estinien's revival.
It's in one of those dreadful moments of quiet, where there's nothing to distract Howl from his own thoughts, that he cannot handle his mental restlessness any longer. In the privacy of his quarters in Achamoth, he gazes out his window to the wilds that spread out north of the city and holds his Shard in front of his body.
There really isn't any plan here. The most Howl understands about his own feelings is the simple need to know that Estinien did actually come back. Who knows what complications could have arisen, considering everything that happened. And while he doesn't expect Estinien to want to talk to him, the pressure in his head is simply too great at this point. He needs to get this over with. ]
Are you back?
[ Howl does his best to keep back his emotions and transmit only the message itself, but... well. Emotional self-control isn't one of his talents. The question comes with a complex mix of worry, pity, fear... and yes, a trace of some shame and anger too. ]
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All the same, he does take his Shard from his chest, as much as he winces at the sight of the strange shards of light flickering within it.]
Is it really your concern?
[Some of the sullenness Estinien has been stewing in for the last few days comes through. He doesn't see any reason to censor himself, in this regard.]
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Faced now with the fact that he's actually talking with the other man, words escape him. Communion is there to pick up the slack. The moment of silence is filled with a strong sense of genuine, earnest relief. ]
Of course it is.
[ He takes a deep breath, stuffing down the surge of emotion. It mixes in with his agitated inner conflict, and he continues. ]
I take no pleasure in unnecessary suffering. Not even against you. Not before I see you again.
[ Howl leaves no pause for Estinien to offer any response to that particular statement. He continues: ]
You have no reason to listen to me. I know. But I ask that you allow me to speak anyway.
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All the same...]
Out with it, then.
[If he wants a chance to speak, he must have something to say.]
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I am alive today because of your mercy. There is no denying otherwise.
[ As Howl begins to calm, and the emotional background grows silent, something still and cold begins to trickle in to take its place. But for now, it's nothing but a droplet of ink dispersing in a pool of water. ]
You asked me back then if I wanted you to kill me. And my answer is still no.
But that isn't the full truth. Perhaps it is more accurate to say that I was asking you to do your best.
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'My best'?
[What is his best in this context, exactly?]
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[ What else? There's a note of amusement, and then it fades into the encroaching coldness. ]
And you did. The only reason I still still draw breath is because you did not take my life from me that day. All you took was that vial.
[ There's a pause. The cold mentality is too conspicuous to ignore now. And if Estinien ponders it for more than a few seconds, he may find that the strange aura is... familiar. ]
For that simple fact, I owe you my thanks. Because without your mercy, everything that happened after I returned to Achamoth would never have come to pass.
[ By now, the aura is unmistakable. It's the Kenoma. It is vibrating quietly in the background of every word coming from Howl's mind. ]
Everything I learned. The clarity I gained. The peace. I didn't have this understanding of my mission here, what the Regent is trying to do, until my spectacular failure moved them to step in.
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He clearly has no business involving himself with this, and he would rather not. Still, he won't push Howl away quite yet.]
They stepped in, did they? And what did they do to bring you such 'peace'?
[Peace is starting to feel overrated, if this is what it results in.]
1/2
Howl does understand, of course, that expressing his gratitude is likely to come across as negative or hostile, but he feels a need to thank him all the same. It's related to the main point that he's leading up to, the final thing he's like to say before the communion is cut. Estinien's question makes him pause for that reason: he isn't done yet, and he's not sure how much longer he'll have to speak. But as he's considering the question, he thinks to himself... couldn't answering his curiosity help him understand, too? ]
You want to know? [ Howl mulls it over. He suspects that any recounting of what happened will be insufficient. Words cannot convey what happened to him or how it transformed his perspective. Most likely, Estinien will simply take issue with it. At the same time, one must let others work through those feelings and come to their own conclusions, don't they. That's certainly what Howl thinks he did himself by coming to this "peace", although that could not be farther from reality. ]
Alright. I'll show you.
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It begins with Howl's fateful conversation with the Regent, wherein Howl's irresponsibility and defiance finally exceeded the masked figure's remaining patience. The fear Howl felt in that moment is imprinted into the memory. It was so great that he dared to essentially hang up on the Regent and start flying towards the outskirts of the city... to flee. Howl had actually made it to the point of self-salvation, of wanting to leave the Kenoma of his own volition... but it would be the beginning of a new, horrible normal instead.
His flight was cut short by Howl's encounter with Dionys, a second elder Aion in Achamoth, one which Estinien may not have even heard of yet. It's clear from the memory that Howl finds her wickedly beautiful, almost irresistible, although in the moment she confronted him, he was still terrified of her. She wielded one of the same whips the Hylician soldiers used, and after quickly subduing him, she used her multi-barbed tail to inject a heavy dose of poison into him.
At this point the memory becomes a chaotic blur. That first dose of poison can only be described as torture, a mix of excruciating pain, thrilling physical pleasure, and a pacifying effect that made Howl powerless to Dionys' commands. As beautiful as she already was to Howl, she became akin to a goddess after injecting her venom. After that, there's a storm of unorganized memories, thrown out of order or common sense by the merciless re-educatation that followed. It's hard to parse exactly, but it seems Howl was taken to a dark, secluded room, away from any other Aion, and forcibly separated from his Shard. From there, and while enduring the skin-crawling discomfort and vulnerability the separation caused, Howl was subject to humiliating and dehumanizing treatment at Dionys' hand. She treated him like a plaything, leaving him without food or water between the bouts of torture, but with plenty of poison.
That poison was the key to the whole process. When Howl resisted or tried to hold true to his convictions, the agony and infatuation intensified. Every time he listened to Dionys and surrendered another inch to the Kenoma, it transformed into incredible ecstacy. All the while, Dionys — the only other Celebrant Aion — exploited their passive, unavoidable empathic bond to "persuade" him further, all while keeping his Shard tantalizingly out of reach. Like dangling a goatskin of water in front of a man dying of thirst. And as the days passed, he began to enjoy how he was treated.
When the memories finally stop shuffling about and settle back into a concrete timeline, Howl has been broken in. Of course, that's not how Howl would describe it, but it would be clear to any onlooker. Instead, as he shows the memory of his release from custody to Estinien, the associated emotions are nothing but positive. Happiness. Invigoration, as if he'd just taken a vacation. Lingering adoration for the Aion who'd just tortured him for a week. And, the peace and acceptance Howl had described before, too. For such a powerful wizard, Howl has lived a life of feeling overwhelmingly powerless, and the Kenoma frees him from that shame.
The entire conveyance doesn't take more than a minute. Memories are funny things in that way — unless a person takes the time to study a sequence of events in a memory, one by one as they happened, they'll tend to remember all parts of it almost at once. One thing that Howl is careful to show Estinien in full detail is when he walked out of the basement of Dionys' brothel, back into the spring sunlight, with new resolve. An undeniable understanding of the Kenoma, his soul nourishing the roots that had used the week to bore even deeper into his soul. To Howl, the time he spent locked away was ultimately a rewarding, even fun experience, although the worryingly large gaps in his memory of the time he spent there — likely when even more atrocious abuse occurred — are not contemplated on.
Howl waits after he is done. He asked a question, and Howl answered it. Will he bother to say anything? ]
no subject
And yet, he had let it happen. Somehow, his comrades had convinced him that destroying the Kenoma was ineffectual, unconstructive. For some reason, he'd listened, and he'd let this to happen, even when he'd had the power to avoid it.
On top of everything he's just faced, it pushes him into a corner that he feels the irrepressible need to break free of. What could he say, at this juncture? With Howl earnestly selling this to him as a good thing?
It's mostly these feelings that Howl will get a sense of, of a sense of failure, frustration, and regret, followed by only brief words.]
That is not 'peace'. You're lost, Howl.
[But before Howl could pull him into a debate on the subject, he will tune out the connection, replacing his Shard in his chest.]
a week after estinien's revival.
[ Childe doesn't even bother asking if he's alive or not. If he's not, Estinien simply won't get the message or something, right? Not that he would be completely surprised to be ignored, too, but he imagines he'll be able to tell the difference. ]
no subject
What do you want?
no subject
First, where's Aerith? I looked everywhere for her in Venera and I can't imagine she wouldn't have come to aid those people.
no subject
[He's tried to reach out to her, but to no avail.]
We've lost touch with her.
[He would go into more detail, but Childe honestly has no business knowing their living circumstances. It's news he's unhappy enough to deliver in the first place.]
no subject
It's not surprising, really: he suspected as much. ] ...I see.
[ that brief feeling of emotions are suddenly restrained on his end to leave nothing leaking out beyond the fact that he's still there. He doesn't linger in silence, though, opting to not waste the others time if he can help it. ]
The other thing is: have you heard on your end of things something referred to by others as the Darkness?
no subject
The Darkness? I would assume they mean the Kenoma, given what it is.
no subject
Thanks.
[ apparently Childe doesn't seem interested in prolonging a conversation that doesn't seem to give any new information right off the bat so it's safe to say he's not actively fishing for any information, at least. ]
text + memories | shortly prior to the raid on achamoth | cw brief descriptions of torture
he leverages this, all of this, to try to force through whatever barriers of refusal estinien might rise to keep him out. makoto is, in the end, a very effective and efficient engine of anger and spite, and he brings that all to bear here.
which makes it somewhat surprising, should the message break through. at first, it is oddly silent and still, comprised of nothing but the slow scrawl of words written in an extravagant hand, the metaphorical ink bleeding red as if with blood: )
To the Dragoon Estinien and all souls brave enough to join him,
Firaseri wears on, and all of us in Achamoth are ready to welcome you.
We hope to be gracious and attentive hosts, just as we have been to those among you who have been partaking of our hospitality since the previous moon.
( here the text tears away abruptly, replaced instead by a sudden injection of memories. cast from makoto's perspective, they reveal a dim room in the dungeons beneath the citadel, empty but for abel chained against one wall and himeka restrained in a chair in its center. makoto has spent long hours agonizing over how best to share this information with his enemy, and he had settled on an abbreviated version, though one that captures all of the most intense of moments. the amount of time he has spent meditating on these memories and their presentation makes what he shows alarming in its clarity, and what's worse is that he provides the contextual color of his own emotion to bleed through along the memory's edges. a twisted sort of pleasure and satisfaction as the cruel edge of a knife cuts shallow anatomical lines throug himeka's flesh; a vague vexation as abel struggles in vain against the chains that restrain him; he in particular allows the sound of the young woman's scream as that same blade pries free from her skin a few scintillating scales that disappear into his hand with a sense of possession. )
We excitedly await your arrival.
I excitedly await your arrival.
Until then, ever yours,
M.