Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hauntedking) wrote2022-10-21 08:01 am
hauntedking) wrote2022-10-21 08:01 am
[KENOS] IC Inbox
Text | Voice | Video | Action
Text | Voice | Video | Action
Alenroux... I've been meaning to go back. [ and he's tempted to start asking Dimitri how it's going there, if there's any sense of the blight and how the soldiers are doing... But he stops himself, not wanting to take up either of their time. ]
Tonight, if you can. I'll gather the ingredients I need that can't be found there. Preserve your appetite, okay?
Tonight, if you can. I'll gather the ingredients I need that can't be found there. Preserve your appetite, okay?
I'll certainly do my best; I'll look forward to it!
Edited 2023-05-07 04:06 (UTC)
( these could be considered two different Fears, though as dimitri continues, he paints himself most vividly for one in particular.
fear of control is the domain of the Spider — of the Web, of the Mother of Puppets. this is the Dread Power that marked john first, when reading a children's book marked as an artefact of the Web at age eight had nearly led him to an early grave.
but, no, if any of the Fears were to pose the greatest threat to what dimitri feared most for himself, it would not be the Spider. )
...In my world, there are individuals like what you describe. Avatars of the Hunt, or "Hunters"... they exist only for the thrill of the chase. They weaken when they're denied it.
( ironically, he had been appointed a Hunter as someone to help keep him safe from threats outside of the Institute — the selfsame Hunter that had once nearly taken him into the woods and executed him, certain of the threat he posed. his relationship with daisy is very complicated. she had marked him deeply for fear of the Hunt, but he had since gotten to know her — gotten to feel responsible for her getting entangled in the Institute's business. he had willingly walked into the heart of the Buried, into Choke, into the Crushing Dark itself to pull her out... and then he had had to watch her wither away as she tried to deny the Hunt's hold over her.
it's the same fate he would have faced if he had refused to feed the Eye, as he does now. )
...It's a cruel existence. For them, and their victims.
Dimitri. I know it's difficult — dredging up fear always is. But if you were to tell to story about what led you to this point, where you stood upon the precipice of losing yourself to your anger... What is the scene that you would set? Where were you, and why — who were you with, and how did it all seem to you? How did you feel?
As... ghoulish as it is — this is what I need. A moment of fear, frozen in time.
fear of control is the domain of the Spider — of the Web, of the Mother of Puppets. this is the Dread Power that marked john first, when reading a children's book marked as an artefact of the Web at age eight had nearly led him to an early grave.
but, no, if any of the Fears were to pose the greatest threat to what dimitri feared most for himself, it would not be the Spider. )
...In my world, there are individuals like what you describe. Avatars of the Hunt, or "Hunters"... they exist only for the thrill of the chase. They weaken when they're denied it.
( ironically, he had been appointed a Hunter as someone to help keep him safe from threats outside of the Institute — the selfsame Hunter that had once nearly taken him into the woods and executed him, certain of the threat he posed. his relationship with daisy is very complicated. she had marked him deeply for fear of the Hunt, but he had since gotten to know her — gotten to feel responsible for her getting entangled in the Institute's business. he had willingly walked into the heart of the Buried, into Choke, into the Crushing Dark itself to pull her out... and then he had had to watch her wither away as she tried to deny the Hunt's hold over her.
it's the same fate he would have faced if he had refused to feed the Eye, as he does now. )
...It's a cruel existence. For them, and their victims.
Dimitri. I know it's difficult — dredging up fear always is. But if you were to tell to story about what led you to this point, where you stood upon the precipice of losing yourself to your anger... What is the scene that you would set? Where were you, and why — who were you with, and how did it all seem to you? How did you feel?
As... ghoulish as it is — this is what I need. A moment of fear, frozen in time.
I... it was nothing like that. It just... I was so caught up in my own despair and hurt and anger and guilt that I felt that the best way I could resolve the vengeance I felt was to hurt the people I thought responsible.
[ Sharing this hurts, too. It's a vulnerable sensation - but that's the point isn't it? He shifts his weight a little in his seat as he considers. How does he describe it? How does he really convey how it felt and what happened to him? ]
...we were in the tomb beneath the Academy. We - my classmates and I, the professor - we were trying to prevent what we believed were unknown assailants from making off with powerful artifacts that could be misused.
[ His gaze goes a little distant. ]
They arrived. We fought. There was one called the Flame Emperor who I believed, at the time, to be responsible for so many ills. And... during this fight they were unmasked to reveal the face of Edelgard. A... girl I had known once from my childhood, but who did not then seem to remember me. And the idea that she was responsible for so much suffering, for the death of my own family... it made me laugh. Now, of course, it seems foolish. She was a child as I was. She couldn't have been responsible. But at the time...
[ He trails off with a frown. ]
[ Sharing this hurts, too. It's a vulnerable sensation - but that's the point isn't it? He shifts his weight a little in his seat as he considers. How does he describe it? How does he really convey how it felt and what happened to him? ]
...we were in the tomb beneath the Academy. We - my classmates and I, the professor - we were trying to prevent what we believed were unknown assailants from making off with powerful artifacts that could be misused.
[ His gaze goes a little distant. ]
They arrived. We fought. There was one called the Flame Emperor who I believed, at the time, to be responsible for so many ills. And... during this fight they were unmasked to reveal the face of Edelgard. A... girl I had known once from my childhood, but who did not then seem to remember me. And the idea that she was responsible for so much suffering, for the death of my own family... it made me laugh. Now, of course, it seems foolish. She was a child as I was. She couldn't have been responsible. But at the time...
[ He trails off with a frown. ]
[ It's strange how quickly everyone, Link included, is settling back into life in Kenos despite what they'd been through. Time heals all wounds, but Shard-Bearers have no choice but to move on from it at lightning speed. Life marches on, even in the wake of strife and tragedy, but... the scars don't fade so quickly.
Dimitri has weighed on Link's mind since their brief exchange of words on Set's Communion address. He wants to see his friend again. A part of him wants to make sense of the Dimitri he witnessed in the Tree's tunnels and the kind, regal king he'd come to see as a friend. That the man was still haunted by past trauma was clear to Link, even before it manifested as violence. But what degree of trauma causes a person to do that in the first place...? Would he do it again? Dimitri obviously regrets it and hopes he won't, but it seems this is not the first time he's broken promises to himself.
It's a hard feeling to put into words, but there is a drive within Link to help, even though he really has no idea how. Their friendship weighs on his mind as he departs from the Seat of the Tribune to make the trip to Dimitri's new house, a small wicker basket draped over one arm. When he knocks at the door, Dimitri will find him waiting with a calm smile on the other side, but something about Link seems... off. Normally never seen without his combat equipment, it's nowhere to be found. His hair looks noticeably longer compared to when they explored Cyrus' office, and even his ears seem different. But the smile is the same. ]
Dimitri has weighed on Link's mind since their brief exchange of words on Set's Communion address. He wants to see his friend again. A part of him wants to make sense of the Dimitri he witnessed in the Tree's tunnels and the kind, regal king he'd come to see as a friend. That the man was still haunted by past trauma was clear to Link, even before it manifested as violence. But what degree of trauma causes a person to do that in the first place...? Would he do it again? Dimitri obviously regrets it and hopes he won't, but it seems this is not the first time he's broken promises to himself.
It's a hard feeling to put into words, but there is a drive within Link to help, even though he really has no idea how. Their friendship weighs on his mind as he departs from the Seat of the Tribune to make the trip to Dimitri's new house, a small wicker basket draped over one arm. When he knocks at the door, Dimitri will find him waiting with a calm smile on the other side, but something about Link seems... off. Normally never seen without his combat equipment, it's nowhere to be found. His hair looks noticeably longer compared to when they explored Cyrus' office, and even his ears seem different. But the smile is the same. ]
( he can sense the pain inherent in admitting to it, and he mirrors it — not just out of a reflexive sense of sympathy, or at least not only because of it. john has felt similarly despite not really being a man predisposed to violence (and certainly not one really capable of it, or at least not usually). it is a natural response in grief and hurt, he thinks, to lash out; a sort of animal instinct residual in them, despite what sense would otherwise dictate. some even do so blindly, so the fact that dimitri had at least focused his attention on those that had initially done the harm to him was already at least one step in the... "right" direction?
he listens, passive, receptive. both Communion and the power of the Eye leech information from dimitri that he doesn't even necessarily give outright, painting a picture of the scene that he describes; the dark and quiet of a grave, sharp apprehensive and anticipation of the situation they had been responding to. the shock of betrayal that such a sudden revelation might elicit is certainly something that would impact someone deeply, which might even push them to such a vicious response as dimitri had committed — which he to this day is concerned about repeating. )
There is little room for logic in times such as that.
( he has certainly had his share of blind emotional responses to high-intensity situations — ironic enough for someone so aligned with sight.
he considers what dimitri has told him for a moment, what he has shared — though he doesn't doubt that it's true that he fears most what he had become, what he very well might become again... he can't help but think that the underlying factor is what is written more deeply into his psyche. it is, after all, what he has to assume is the reason why such a thing had occurred. )
Though... the primary reason you reacted so strongly was because of this - tragedy that occurred, which resulted in the death of your family. This memory is the threshold to what you fear most, yes... but do you think it's correct to say that what happened when you lost them has shaped your life more as a result?
he listens, passive, receptive. both Communion and the power of the Eye leech information from dimitri that he doesn't even necessarily give outright, painting a picture of the scene that he describes; the dark and quiet of a grave, sharp apprehensive and anticipation of the situation they had been responding to. the shock of betrayal that such a sudden revelation might elicit is certainly something that would impact someone deeply, which might even push them to such a vicious response as dimitri had committed — which he to this day is concerned about repeating. )
There is little room for logic in times such as that.
( he has certainly had his share of blind emotional responses to high-intensity situations — ironic enough for someone so aligned with sight.
he considers what dimitri has told him for a moment, what he has shared — though he doesn't doubt that it's true that he fears most what he had become, what he very well might become again... he can't help but think that the underlying factor is what is written more deeply into his psyche. it is, after all, what he has to assume is the reason why such a thing had occurred. )
Though... the primary reason you reacted so strongly was because of this - tragedy that occurred, which resulted in the death of your family. This memory is the threshold to what you fear most, yes... but do you think it's correct to say that what happened when you lost them has shaped your life more as a result?
...I would say so. It all... stems from the Tragedy of Duscur, of which I wsa the only survivor. My father, my step-mother, people I had known my whole life - all were slaughtered and I somehow lived through it.
[ Survivor's guilt is a hell of a drug. ]
It's why I felt I needed to find justice for them. Even if what I ended up doing was merely feeding my own bloodlust.
[ He tried to keep control. It didn't work. Eventually the pent-up anger and resentment and sorrow and guilt had all come pouring out of him. Nearly being killed, the sense of betrayal - it had all led him to spiral and to do nothing more than hunt and kill and become little better than a wild beast. ]
[ Survivor's guilt is a hell of a drug. ]
It's why I felt I needed to find justice for them. Even if what I ended up doing was merely feeding my own bloodlust.
[ He tried to keep control. It didn't work. Eventually the pent-up anger and resentment and sorrow and guilt had all come pouring out of him. Nearly being killed, the sense of betrayal - it had all led him to spiral and to do nothing more than hunt and kill and become little better than a wild beast. ]
( he has a picture of it now, and it intersects in several places with his understanding of the Fears. but john knows better than most that it's a mistake to think of them as wholly separate entities — it is more accurate to think of them as different facets cut from the same gem, each reflecting a slightly different archetypal understanding of terror. the Hunt, whose psychological Mark is something that still haunts him now in the echoed memory of perfect helplessness he had felt when daisy tonner had taken him out in the woods to execute him, single-minded in its fixation on the satisfaction of the pursuit. the Slaughter, which is Marked on him as a small, nasty scar on his shoulder left by a scalpel, representative of wild and senseless violence. in dimitri and the experiences that he recounts to john now, they exist in a tangle, each feeding into the other.
the fear there is genuine, and it presents a unique enough picture of such an interaction. with these fears written with their reverberations onto john, the Eye can feed, and they are both sated.
though even if that psychological pressure lifts from his mind and his vision "clears" (so to speak), it brings him little happiness in this moment. he can sense the pain, fear, and reproach seething within the young man because they're reflected back onto him, temporarily linked as they are. he wishes he can offer some sort of help, but... that's not what he's intended to do. the Archivist is not meant to help those with their fears, but rather to help himself to them.
he is no more able to help dimitri than he had been able to help daisy. yes, he had pulled her out of the Buried, and they had starved themselves of fear together as avatars of the Eye and the Hunt both, but it was a useless defiance. john had eventually served his purpose to jonah magnus and the Eye, and daisy... what was it she had said? "can't outrun it forever." she had used it to allow them time to escape, but she had still given herself back to the Hunt all the same.
leaving basira behind with the promise to deliver her judgment later. for a moment john's throat constricts, and then he speaks. )
When you feel as though you can't trust yourself to make the decisions you should make... you have to entrust it to those you have faith in. You equip them with what they need in order to handle you in that eventuality.
( it sounds very much like he speaks from experience. )
the fear there is genuine, and it presents a unique enough picture of such an interaction. with these fears written with their reverberations onto john, the Eye can feed, and they are both sated.
though even if that psychological pressure lifts from his mind and his vision "clears" (so to speak), it brings him little happiness in this moment. he can sense the pain, fear, and reproach seething within the young man because they're reflected back onto him, temporarily linked as they are. he wishes he can offer some sort of help, but... that's not what he's intended to do. the Archivist is not meant to help those with their fears, but rather to help himself to them.
he is no more able to help dimitri than he had been able to help daisy. yes, he had pulled her out of the Buried, and they had starved themselves of fear together as avatars of the Eye and the Hunt both, but it was a useless defiance. john had eventually served his purpose to jonah magnus and the Eye, and daisy... what was it she had said? "can't outrun it forever." she had used it to allow them time to escape, but she had still given herself back to the Hunt all the same.
leaving basira behind with the promise to deliver her judgment later. for a moment john's throat constricts, and then he speaks. )
When you feel as though you can't trust yourself to make the decisions you should make... you have to entrust it to those you have faith in. You equip them with what they need in order to handle you in that eventuality.
( it sounds very much like he speaks from experience. )
[ To be fair, Dimitri had come here with the intent to help John. Even if it cost him some peace of mind. Maybe he hadn't understood - or underestimated what it would take. For the moment, he's still in a bit of turmoil. Trying not to relive those horrible days and the fallout that had come with it and left him as he is - brittle, but trying to be better. Strong, but fragile in some of the worst ways. There's nothing else for it at this point.
And at least he takes a bit of comfort from John's words. ]
...I had people like that back home. And I have a few here. But I miss all of the ones who are apparently gone.
[ This is close to the divide between them; the gulf between restoration or creation. ]
I want to bring them back.
And at least he takes a bit of comfort from John's words. ]
...I had people like that back home. And I have a few here. But I miss all of the ones who are apparently gone.
[ This is close to the divide between them; the gulf between restoration or creation. ]
I want to bring them back.
( even still. he is most accustomed to reading the statements of those who have already come and gone from the Institute — some of them so old that when his assistants tried to reach out to the original statement-giver, they can't seem to find them. when he had been Head Archivist of the Institute, he had ruminated often on the survivor's bias that reading these statements had given him, but that wasn't always the case; sometimes they were given in a narrow window between a Dread Power's fixation on them and when they were finally claimed by it. helen was one of those, among many. he'd just had the misfortune of seeing her claimed by the Distortion right in front of him.
when someone is presenting their fear and their pain to him in person... it's harder. he knows logically there's nothing he can do to help, that there's not really anything anyone can do (least of all an avatar of a god of bloody fear), but still... the yoke of an Archivist is a heavy one, especially upon a soul as generally sympathetic as john's is. )
Good. That's good.
( he doesn't speak on those that had been left behind. how can he? it's not that they are completely at odds here; there are those that he is serving Zenith in order to retrieve. one, he already has, but he hopes yima will continue to fetch the souls of those he feels most responsible for. there are four left... even if he can't go to the world he creates, he wants them to be able to. with martin.
john stands. he feels that their time is coming to an end — he needs to get back to highstorm, and... typically those that give statements to him don't really want to hang around him for too much longer afterward. but he does pause there a moment before looking back to dimitri, sidelong. )
I'm not without a heart. If it were so easy for me... I would want to do the same.
( the obvious indication here is that it's not. but he doesn't want to discuss that now. that's a conversation they have later. )
Thank you very much for your time, Dimitri.
( and for your fear. even looking at him now, one could see that john already looks much haler; he stands up straighter, and there's less of a nervous jitter to his movements. )
when someone is presenting their fear and their pain to him in person... it's harder. he knows logically there's nothing he can do to help, that there's not really anything anyone can do (least of all an avatar of a god of bloody fear), but still... the yoke of an Archivist is a heavy one, especially upon a soul as generally sympathetic as john's is. )
Good. That's good.
( he doesn't speak on those that had been left behind. how can he? it's not that they are completely at odds here; there are those that he is serving Zenith in order to retrieve. one, he already has, but he hopes yima will continue to fetch the souls of those he feels most responsible for. there are four left... even if he can't go to the world he creates, he wants them to be able to. with martin.
john stands. he feels that their time is coming to an end — he needs to get back to highstorm, and... typically those that give statements to him don't really want to hang around him for too much longer afterward. but he does pause there a moment before looking back to dimitri, sidelong. )
I'm not without a heart. If it were so easy for me... I would want to do the same.
( the obvious indication here is that it's not. but he doesn't want to discuss that now. that's a conversation they have later. )
Thank you very much for your time, Dimitri.
( and for your fear. even looking at him now, one could see that john already looks much haler; he stands up straighter, and there's less of a nervous jitter to his movements. )
...you're quite welcome.
[ It's been... what? Harrowing? But he thins he would do it again. He's helped someone and that's important. Even if he has had to dredge up memories he would almost rather leave buried. He cannot turn away from this. He never can. ]
I hope you stay well.
[ It's been... what? Harrowing? But he thins he would do it again. He's helped someone and that's important. Even if he has had to dredge up memories he would almost rather leave buried. He cannot turn away from this. He never can. ]
I hope you stay well.
[ About a week after their first encounter, if Dimitri happens to be home in the evening, there's a knock at the door of his house. Should he inspect, he'll find a box waiting on his doorstep.
Inside is a plate of cookies, shaped and frosted to resemble stylized lion faces. No two are entirely identical. One has an eye patch. Just the one. No reason.
Tucked under the plate is a simple note on an unremarkable piece of paper:
It truly is a lovely house.
It's a modest offering by Yuri's standards, but it is what's within his means for now. Not that he signed it, but does he even need to? ]
Inside is a plate of cookies, shaped and frosted to resemble stylized lion faces. No two are entirely identical. One has an eye patch. Just the one. No reason.
Tucked under the plate is a simple note on an unremarkable piece of paper:
It's a modest offering by Yuri's standards, but it is what's within his means for now. Not that he signed it, but does he even need to? ]
[ Even being dissipated for a few days has not truly slowed the way that Set literally and metaphorically attacks the world of Kenos at large; he is tired, wearied from the death-sickness that follows him and has much to do, but not so much that he cannot take a moment to reach out to the young warlord who so dutifully invoked his name while seeking slaughter.
Dimitri and Hayame have been diligent, in their devotion, and Set will not fail to reward them for it. He reaches along the connection between all Shardbearer minds, into the ranks of his Aspect's polar opposite to find Dimitri. The sense of Set's arrival that of fingers softly finding the ends of his hair to tug upon them, of arms sliding around the man's chest from behind, a face tucked along the line of his throat. Teeth in the dark. ]
Dimitri, I have something for you.
Dimitri and Hayame have been diligent, in their devotion, and Set will not fail to reward them for it. He reaches along the connection between all Shardbearer minds, into the ranks of his Aspect's polar opposite to find Dimitri. The sense of Set's arrival that of fingers softly finding the ends of his hair to tug upon them, of arms sliding around the man's chest from behind, a face tucked along the line of his throat. Teeth in the dark. ]
Dimitri, I have something for you.
[ It takes a moment for Dimitri to fully register who this is. For a moment there's a flicker of confusion, a mental shiver from the sensation, and then a slow sort of exhale as he... settles? This is almost familiar. The prickle of discord, the scent of sand. Heat. So different from his cooler homeland - because he is pine trees and cool mountain air. The threat of teeth against his skin makes him shiver. ]
...Set.
[ Set does enjoy this, doesn't he? ]
What is it you have? I wasn't expecting to hear from you.
...Set.
[ Set does enjoy this, doesn't he? ]
What is it you have? I wasn't expecting to hear from you.
You have been diligent about your duty to me, and thus, I am here to bestow upon you what was promised.
[ Curled into Dimitri's mind as he is, it is within his ability to manifest himself — vast and boundless, the sprawling crimson desert seem to encroach upon the man himself. A hot storm, the buffeting wind pick up fine grains of sand and dash then across exposed skin; the sun seems to beat down, violent and merciless upon unshadowed eye and sap moisture straight from the bone.
Steadily, Dimitri might feel something below his feet. The slow pressure of something rising firm beneath him, as though the earth itself were breathing — pale towers rising around the man, curled faintly inward like a cage, like a bleached ribcage. Fingers, attached to a palm as large as a stage upon which the war god now holds Dimitri. In their Communion, he can be as massive as a fell dragon, his hair pouring red over his shoulders and merging into the sand itself.
It is the hint of divine power, diminished still by Kenos. In their minds, he can be everything he ought to be. Between them, something electric and burning seems to build. ]
My blessing, upon you. You may name the shape it will take between us, and partake of my power for as long as we hold our vow between us.
[ Curled into Dimitri's mind as he is, it is within his ability to manifest himself — vast and boundless, the sprawling crimson desert seem to encroach upon the man himself. A hot storm, the buffeting wind pick up fine grains of sand and dash then across exposed skin; the sun seems to beat down, violent and merciless upon unshadowed eye and sap moisture straight from the bone.
Steadily, Dimitri might feel something below his feet. The slow pressure of something rising firm beneath him, as though the earth itself were breathing — pale towers rising around the man, curled faintly inward like a cage, like a bleached ribcage. Fingers, attached to a palm as large as a stage upon which the war god now holds Dimitri. In their Communion, he can be as massive as a fell dragon, his hair pouring red over his shoulders and merging into the sand itself.
It is the hint of divine power, diminished still by Kenos. In their minds, he can be everything he ought to be. Between them, something electric and burning seems to build. ]
My blessing, upon you. You may name the shape it will take between us, and partake of my power for as long as we hold our vow between us.
[ Dimitri is... flattened by the overwhelming nature of hte communion. He is used to strange things happening here - and at home, in truth. But this seems to encroach on him everywhere at once. He can feel the sand and the heat and it almost staggers him. He breathes in and it scorches him to his core. It is blinding and terrible and wonderful. He had said something to Set once - "you are not a god here." Maybe he was wrong, because for a moment he feels very small indeed - and that is no mean feat for him.
He sways and braces himself against one of the pillars as he peers up (back) at the face of the divinity he has aligned himself with. However temporary or permanent he may be. It is awe-inspiring in its own way and he is deeply affected. He laughs - laughter somehow feels like the most appropriate response. ]
I - I have never received divine favor like this.
[ The goddess was absent before. Gone from his world in a way that never let her touch their lives. At least until recently. ]
A gorget?
He sways and braces himself against one of the pillars as he peers up (back) at the face of the divinity he has aligned himself with. However temporary or permanent he may be. It is awe-inspiring in its own way and he is deeply affected. He laughs - laughter somehow feels like the most appropriate response. ]
I - I have never received divine favor like this.
[ The goddess was absent before. Gone from his world in a way that never let her touch their lives. At least until recently. ]
A gorget?
[ Such a moment is only possible because they are connected, and because it is Communion — where un-reality exists, and the mind is the only limitation. All-encompassing as he is, he holds Dimitri in his palm with such diligent consideration of how small he is, how affected he finds himself. The moment requires such gravitas, and the presence of Set as he is — man, divinity, animal, natural and mystical force. He cannot be all of those things in the physical world.
When he laughs, it is the sound of the dry earth splitting below one's feet. The indelicate crack of some creature's desiccated husk falling prey to the world's own gravity, bone and sinew creaking and shattering. The rasp of a dune flowing over itself, thundering patient and endless against a broken structure, until all but the memory of it is hidden below a veil of dust. ]
Not that kind of shape, Dimitri. My blessing will settle unseen between us, the 'shape' you are to name is what you would ask from me. I can strength your arm in battle, provide you a weapon in a pinch, embolden your heart and mind, disorient your rivals — the only thing I cannot do, is precede your physical body. No scouting, and no summoning my true form directly to your side.
When he laughs, it is the sound of the dry earth splitting below one's feet. The indelicate crack of some creature's desiccated husk falling prey to the world's own gravity, bone and sinew creaking and shattering. The rasp of a dune flowing over itself, thundering patient and endless against a broken structure, until all but the memory of it is hidden below a veil of dust. ]
Not that kind of shape, Dimitri. My blessing will settle unseen between us, the 'shape' you are to name is what you would ask from me. I can strength your arm in battle, provide you a weapon in a pinch, embolden your heart and mind, disorient your rivals — the only thing I cannot do, is precede your physical body. No scouting, and no summoning my true form directly to your side.
[ Oh. that makes sense. Dimitri blinks and tries to get his mental self in shape; to better deal with this monumental projection that is more than anything he has ever encountered. At least like this. ]
...I see.
[ He breathes and his eye closes. And yet, in this realm of the mind he can still see Set. Sense him. His shape is there, the outline. Burning bright and hot and discordant, especially to him and their mismatched aspects. ]
Then I would ask you to bring confusion to my enemies, in my time of need. And I thank you for it.
...I see.
[ He breathes and his eye closes. And yet, in this realm of the mind he can still see Set. Sense him. His shape is there, the outline. Burning bright and hot and discordant, especially to him and their mismatched aspects. ]
Then I would ask you to bring confusion to my enemies, in my time of need. And I thank you for it.
[ Yuri is...not the best about this communion business. It strikes him as overly intrusive, and he meets it with a knee-jerk resistance each time a stranger's voice pops up in his head.
Even so, he can admit to himself that it's convenient on occasion. Still, there's a certain air of caution when he tries initiating this odd form of communication.
Congratulations on being the first person he's tried this with, Dimitri. ]
I thought I should update you on that matter we discussed.
[ A pause, evidently deliberating on how best to put this, even though he'd already invested time on that very thing. ]
I took a run at it and evidently I'm not Zenith material. Imagine that.
Even so, he can admit to himself that it's convenient on occasion. Still, there's a certain air of caution when he tries initiating this odd form of communication.
Congratulations on being the first person he's tried this with, Dimitri. ]
I thought I should update you on that matter we discussed.
[ A pause, evidently deliberating on how best to put this, even though he'd already invested time on that very thing. ]
I took a run at it and evidently I'm not Zenith material. Imagine that.
[ There's a flicker of recognition - he's gotten much more used to it over the last few months - and then he responds. ]
I see.
[ He can't quite hide the twinge of relief in his 'voice'. ]
That may end up being for the better, don't you think?
I see.
[ He can't quite hide the twinge of relief in his 'voice'. ]
That may end up being for the better, don't you think?
[ He'd been stunned at first, but then, he'd never tried to deceive something that could evidently read what he truly felt. There remains some residual bewilderment for that alone. ]
Maybe so... If things get messier bere, I don't know whether I could've kept it up for long.
[ Still, there comes the dullest edge of frustration. ]
Would've liked getting us some intel, though.
Maybe so... If things get messier bere, I don't know whether I could've kept it up for long.
[ Still, there comes the dullest edge of frustration. ]
Would've liked getting us some intel, though.
Understandably so, but I am glad we won't necessarily have to oppose one another.
[ And he is relieved by that. He's find of Yuri. ]
There are other alternatives, after all. We can find out information in some other way.
[ And he is relieved by that. He's find of Yuri. ]
There are other alternatives, after all. We can find out information in some other way.
True enough. Might take more legwork, but at least I don't have to worry about running away from you or Byleth on some battlefield.
[ Arianrhod and that damned forest were quite enough, thank you. ]
Just going to take more creativity, or rubbing the right elbows.
[ Arianrhod and that damned forest were quite enough, thank you. ]
Just going to take more creativity, or rubbing the right elbows.
I can think of a few people you might be interested in meeting...
[ Not because he necessarily wants them to be taken advantage of, but because he does think that Yuri meeting them would end up being a good thing. ]
Rin Tohsaka, for one. She's some sort of mage in her own world. [ And there's a history, oops. ]
[ Not because he necessarily wants them to be taken advantage of, but because he does think that Yuri meeting them would end up being a good thing. ]
Rin Tohsaka, for one. She's some sort of mage in her own world. [ And there's a history, oops. ]
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