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to the pleroma (text)

[ it’s not an intentional attempt at anonymity. dextera just has no experience with this kind of broad communication, and to him, there’s little point in introducing himself anyway. those who have met him may be able to recognize the emotional “signature” attached to the words newly displayed in their minds, and may be able even to attach the soft sound of his breath or the perpetually-uncertain expression he wears to the message he knows is about to be contentious.

but, it’s been bothering him since the events in venera. perhaps the seed was planted even before that, from his very first experience with the kenoma and having the pleroma overtake it to save him in the end. ]

Are we wrong?

[ it’s… actually not what he wanted to open with, but the panic of broadcasting a message so publicly has him blurting things out even through what should be the most temperate of mediums. ]

The Regent said it was the Pleroma that caused the disease in Venera. That force wanted us to live forever in delusion. I don’t want to destroy the world. I don’t want to make a new one either. I was happy there. I would have been happy there.

The distilled Kenoma tried to manipulate our thoughts. Didn’t you all feel that power when we escaped? The Hope that allowed us to fight? Are we still being manipulated?

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[ that is exactly what he’s doing. the curtains in his little room in godsblood are drawn, and so even if there is light outside, he can’t see it. he’s merely holding his shard and imagining all the worst scenarios that could come to pass, far from a comfortable situation for anyone to be in.

there’s a long pause, and then: ]

I’m not in a corner.

[ Damn, that was Dokja not too long ago. Just a fucking depressed mess. He's okay now! Back to his usual not-as-outwardly-showing depressed self.

And look, he may be completely blind to most things, but even he can recognize a cry for help. ]

That's a relief. [ How bad can it be if there's no corner involved? ] Hey, while you're busy getting blasted with replies, you want something to eat?

[ there is truly a cacophony of answers in his mind, which is something he expected, but he wasn’t truly prepared for. everyone has their opinion and plenty of emotions attached to it, and dextera has made himself a target for all the thoughts that have been brewing over the past few months.

dokja’s concern as a person, rather than as a fellow member of those aligned with the pleroma, is incredibly welcome. ]

I want something green.

[ the answer takes a long time to come, but he’s honest. he’d like to eat a leaf or something. ]

[ He can't even imagine the weight of all these communions bearing down on Dextera. It's a method of communication that Dokja dislikes, the leak of emotions on either side too bothersome to deal with. Coupled with the fact that he has a general aversion to drawing attention to himself, this broadcast to the entirety of the Pleroma seems like a nightmare to have to deal with.

So, yeah. He'll partake on a different level, and Dextera is someone that Dokja has had to grudgingly admit he cares about. ]

Something green. Got it.

[ It's an odd request but he's long since learned the other man is an odd person, so he doesn't hesitate with his reply. ]

Let me know where you are and I'll be there with your greens.

[ one of the benefits of communion, despite these troubles, is that dextera can easily impress his location through the shard without having to give particular details or a description on how to get here. it’s a little inn and tavern in one of the seedier parts of godsblood, but dextera is a welcome tenant for his silence and tendency to stay out of trouble. as such, no one bothers him.

he tucks his shard back into its place, for the moment “turning off” all the people assailing him with their thoughts, and he waits for dokja to arrive like a dog waiting for its master. ]

[ buddy :(

Dokja's normally not great with directions and he gets lost like he breathes, but having spent months in Godsblood, he manages to find Dextera's location with relative ease.

With a salad and a green... unripe... banana.... in hand, he knocks on the door. DoorDash is here. ]

It's me.

[ dextera would have opened the door even if dokja hadn’t announced himself, but he’s lucky this time that it isn’t significantly worse.

dokja is also lucky that dextera’s room could be much worse than it is, but despite his latest dip into manic depression, there are only a few things strewn about the floor, and dextera himself is probably just a day or two past a shower. his clothes need help, but the man himself is clean enough.

he gently takes the offerings from dokja, grateful despite the odd choices. dextera doesn’t know they’re odd. ]

…

[ Crack a window open at least...

Actually, Dokja will do that himself once the items are handed over and he just barges on inside uninvited. Once he's situated in the middle of the room, he stands there with his hands on his hips as he looks around.

Damn. You live like this? ]

You can eat that banana after a couple of days.

[ Since it's. Green. ]

[ dokja catches him just before he breaks the unripe banana open down the middle, and he quickly changes course to set the banana down and nod instead.

there’s still salad, after all. ]

…

[ salad, which he will eat one leaf at a time with his hands. ]

[ He doesn't catch the one leaf at a time just yet, too occupied with throwing open the curtains to let in some light along with opening a window to let some fresh sea air roll in.

When he turns back around, he catches Dextera eating the salad and it's. It really makes him pause and forget what he'd just been about to say. ]

... Why are you eating it like that?

[ THAT'S WEIRD ]

…?

[ dextera steps out of the way of the light, but his abashed expression at dokja’s question is still illuminated by the ambience. ]

…

[ unsure of how else to eat it, he at least switches to fishing out a slice of tomato like that makes things better. ]

[ No....... He didn't think to grab a fork and he doubts Dextera just has a fork laying around in his room? Unless he does??

... If it does exist, it probably isn't very sanitary anyway. ]

Forget it. Carry on eating the way you were.

[ He'll just stop watching and get to picking up some of the stuff on the floor like he's Dextera's mother. Please don't let there be like. Underwear or anything. ]

[ there’s no underwear, luckily (in some sense, at least, since it means he’s wearing the one pair he has), but there is an assortment of oddities. little pieces of metal with no discernable purpose, a bloody dagger, a unbloodied sword… he has a pair of pants on the ground, too, the pocket of which a few dried berries fall from. the pants have probably not been cleaned in weeks, but who’s counting? he’s not wearing them, which is a small mercy. ]

…

[ he wipes tomato juice on his shirt, watching dokja clean up with an increasing sense of uncertainty. ]

[ t-the one pair... closes my eyes

Dokja wordlessly tidies things as best as he can. He's not an especially clean person, but he's familiar with trying to manage his own messes, so. It's somewhat of an improvement now that the floor is mostly cleared of anything that could be tripped on.

He glances back at Dextera in time to see where that tomato juice goes... ]

Not doing so well, huh? I know what that's like.

[ it’s hard for him to imagine that, though it’s not as if he thought dokja was completely without depth. rather, dokja has been a fairly solid structure of support since they met—even when he was playing dumb, which he seems prone to do, dextera has felt something more to it all.

but not like this. someone like dokja shouldn’t be able to empathize, because dextera doesn’t want him to hurt like this. ]

…

[ dextera moves to sit on his bed again, and motions for dokja to sit with him. ~~you wouldn’t deny a man his company on his nasty sheets, would you, dokja?~~ ]

[ Can't he just sit on the floor... Or stay standing...

But no, he will oblige because he doesn't care all that much. He takes a seat next to Dextera, leaving plenty of room between them for Jesus, and fixes a smile into place. Whatever had assailed him weeks before seems to be gone now at least?

... More like Dokja is trying really hard to make it appear like everything's back to normal for him. ]

Has anyone said anything to get you to rethink your thoughts? Get you to calm down a bit?

…

[ in the time it took for dokja to get here, dextera has calmed down a bit. he still has questions and worries, but that’s natural for their position. the important thing is that he doesn’t lose himself to it.

he pulls his legs up onto the bed, and to dokja’s question, he offers a quick, tight nod. feeling some sense of preservation, he doesn’t open himself to communion just yet, so he’ll have to ‘talk’ the old fashioned way.

drawing a breath, dextera sighs it out and places the salad aside, in order to grab a little notebook he keeps on his bedside. it’s well-used, and there are little notes and designs throughout the pages he flips through to find a new, empty one to write on. ]

Even if we are wrong, that doesn’t mean the Regent is right.

[ Notebook... Dokja's reminded of all the times they've struggled to communicate with each other and finds it a little new, a little odd, to be able to ask questions now and get actual answers.

He leans over to get a look at what's written down, his expression growing thoughtful and forced smile dropping off at what he reads. ]

Yeah, you can't exactly trust someone who deals with those kinds of extremes.

[ Destroying worlds... Dokja grows a bit anxious at the thought of it. He'd already gone down that path and what had met him at the end... Well, he's paying for it now, isn't he? Anyway, his concern remains with Dextera. ]

What brought this on? Did something happen?

[ everything has happened. the question seems to pain dextera, though at least he’s calm enough in the presence of a friend and after eating that he only winces. ]

What happened in Venera reminded me of home.

[ they haven’t spoken much on the worlds they respectively come from, but it’s easy to tell this isn’t a fond recollection. ]

When I heard it was the Pleroma, I got scared.
I felt like it was my fault.
Like it was before.
I know it’s not true. But

[ his hand trembles, and he marks out that last “but” and allows dokja to look at the iteration of the message. ]

[ Ah. That would certainly do it. Dokja's own symptoms in Venera had been relatively mild compared to what he'd seen and so he'd made it out in mostly one piece, but the same apparently can't be said of his companion...

He reads what Dextera writes, then reads it again. "Like it was before"? His gaze grows sharp at that line, the anxiety from before steadily growing at just how much Dokja can relate.

Swallowing thickly, he tries to maintain some control. ]

I get it, [ he says, an uncertain smile in place. ] It just brought you back, didn't it? And the same feelings from then with it.

[ they may not be communicating from their shards, but they’re sitting right next to each other, close enough that dextera can feel dokja’s brief tension—though he’s not watching so closely that he can pinpoint what part of it dokja is reading, and dokja just as quickly covers it up with a smile. ]

…

[ he nods. ]

It’s not possible to make amends when you hurt that many people.

[ This is getting a little too real.

It's only after a moment that Dokja realizes his hands are trembling, and he quickly brings them together to fold one on top of the other, squeezing with all his might to try and stifle the shaking.

Keep it together. ]

You... hurt people? Back home?

…

[ dextera is the type to withdraw his own senses and focus only on himself when he’s upset, but dokja—despite his best efforts—is right there next to him and obviously distressed.

he hesitates before writing the next part, his gaze focused on dokja’s trembling hands. what he assumes is that dokja is frightened of him, of the knowledge that dextera has harmed innocent people. he takes a guilty breath and nods, watching dokja for his reaction.

dextera wouldn’t blame dokja for leaving now, but he hopes he won’t. ]

[ It would be so easy to stand up and leave. Run away. It's what he's done countless times before, but. But.

Something anchors him in place. Maybe it's because this is Dextera who he's known since waking up in this new world, maybe it's because Dokja's never talked about this with anyone else, maybe it's because this is someone who might understand... Or maybe it's all of these reasons.

He's tired of running. ]

... Me too. [ He swallows thickly, his mouth suddenly dry. ] I hurt people, too.

—ah…

[ dextera didn’t expect that. of course he’s never thought dokja capable of inflicting pain on another human being, not in any lasting way. to dextera, dokja is as kind and normal as they come, even if he’s proven himself occasionally difficult as a personality.

he shakes his head, as if he can deny that reality, and hurriedly returns to the notebook. ]

What do you mean

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communion → action

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