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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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[ despite dextera’s initially lackluster answer, he snaps to attention as soon as the smell of food wafts from the bag. he looks like an animal, so intrigued as he is by the scent.

he takes one of the pastries, and although he’s cautious about unwrapping it lest it slip from his fingers and into the ocean, he is not cautious about eating it. he bites into it with the ferocity of someone who is used to ripping apart raw meat with only their teeth, but pastries are much softer. ernesto, skewers, whatever—his focus has narrowed. ]

Mmgh…

[ he has no idea Talking is coming. ]

[ oh.

oh, my god.

Abel is watching this unfold with a sort of morbid fascination; it really is. wow, ]

D... Dextera, ah. P-please chew before you swallow, I-- I am not giving you CPR if you start choking on-- chew!! A-and breathe, too!! For goodness sake--

[ dextera really was hungrier than he thought; his body wasn’t meant to survive on stale crackers and overripe fruits.

there’s an audible little pop as he follows abel’s instruction to breathe, like a ping pong ball being sucked through a tube, a testament to how quickly dextera is eating. ]

…

[ he scrapes the crumbs off his hands with his teeth when he finishes. ]

[ on one hand? good, Dextera is taking in something of substance and with a vigor?? that's probably a good sign, right? probably good for him?

on the other..... Abel is mildly concerned for how voracious his appetite is as he reaches into the bag and passes his friend another delicious pastry. ]

Y-you know, it's really a rarity when I come across someone who eats faster than I do. It's inspiring a note of self-reflection I'm not sure I'm entirely comfortable with, honestly.

[ as before, dextera only hears about half of what abel says to him, as if his brain is automatically set to filter out the harmless chatter. he listens when it’s important, when abel has something to say—but that judgment is a bit subjective.

he slows down on the second one; it’s partially due to abel pointing out the speed with which he eats, but also because some crumbs fall over the side of the dock and into the hungry mouths of the fish waiting at their feet. ]

…

[ he gazes down at them, enthralled, and pulls off a few more flakes of the pastry to drop into the ocean. ]

[ honestly, tuning Abel's nonsense ramblings out is like... a beautiful life skill and Dex should feel accomplished for having mastered it?? amazing,

but he goes on for a bit-- before he seems to catch on that his company is just sorta Fish Admiring rather than listening, and... hm. well, there's a time and a place for everything, right? so... licking some crumbs from his fingers, he leans a bit further over the water. ]

...You're worried, right?

[ ... ]

Was it because of Venera, Dextera...?

[ even if he isn’t listening to every individual word, it’s easy to tell when abel has changed tactics and speaks directly to the reason dextera has been called out here in the first place.

with a full stomach and fresh air, dextera is less panicked, but he’s not in the best state overall. ]

—…

[ he gives a hesitant nod. abel was involved with that strange creature he saw through ryunosuke’s vision, so it feels almost selfish to be as upset as he is by the ordeal and its aftermath—but, truthfully, he doesn’t shy away from wallowing in his own pain. ]

S… [ a breath, and the carefully shaped word sorry with no voice behind it. ]

...Why are you apologizing?

[ it's soft, and he's chased away any traces of the idiotic routine from a few moments prior. instead, his brow has knit with a (now familiar) expression of gentle and probing concern. ]

Do you feel you did something wrong...? That you don't deserve to feel uneasy after all of that? Because neither is true.

[ dextera recalls this side of abel from the way he gently handled the throes of the innocent’s plague. it’s a strange feeling to be fully conscious now, with no reason to receive this kindness except that he hasn’t gotten over something others have moved past. ]

…

[ the look he gives abel is one of protest, an unspoken but even as he tries to take abel’s concern for what it is. dextera shudders out a miserable breath and turns his gaze away again.

the fish underneath them bob out of the water with open, hungry mouths.

the proximity to abel and their shared connection to the pleroma do what dextera himself can’t do; together, they impress a maelstrom of uncertainty and fear. doubt for their position here, and guilt for feeling that way knowing abel and others have worked so hard. ]

[ Abel's brow furrows further as he feels rather than hears Dextera tell him of the churning sea of his discontent, his trepidation. how could anyone not feel for their friend feeling caught in such a current...?

his hand gently, lightly, settles at Dextera's shoulder; the priest gives it a tentative squeeze. ]

...Do you know what the Pleroma is? What it really is?

[ it would be easier if he did. if he could just have a solid, definitive answer on what it is they’re dealing with—no, more than that, he realizes what he really wants is for someone to tell him how to feel. even knowing that whatever abel is about to proselytize might not guide him, he’s willing to listen, desperate for anything that might ease his discontent. ]

…

[ he shakes his head. ]

I think that's part of the problem, isn't it? It's hard for us to find comfort in things we don't understand or feel are completely beyond us.

[ perhaps there's some irony in a priest preaching as much, but Abel seems quite sincere as he looks to the surface of the water below disturbed by so many hungry, twisting fish all too eager to clamor for a bite to eat. ]

Whatever it was that touched us in Venera... it wasn't a mindless... thing, or some consciousness force. It felt like... like a lost child. Someone reaching out and trying to make things better in the only way it knew how without realizing it was doing more harm than good, you know? It truly wanted to take away our pain, even if its efforts were misguided at best.

[ and while that might not help them comprehend the Pleroma, maybe it is an important part of understanding what had happened to them. what had happened to Dextera. ]

[ dextera sympathizes with that feeling, not from his own experience, because he knows it’s exactly what the absolute god has done to his world. he can see the peace offered in delusion.

but there will always be people like the archangel, too, who resent and fear the things that they can’t control. the regent has managed to refine the kenoma into something they can use for their own gain, but the pleroma has run wild—and despite the protests of the people who responded to him, dextera thinks there is a point in laying the blame of the plague at the feet of the pleroma. ]

…

[ dextera breathes deeply, and this time, when he sighs, he does seem to truly be releasing tension. there’s a question he wants to ask abel, now that they’re on the topic, even if it’s not a polite inquiry. with his shard still tucked safely away, where he can’t feel the onslaught of concerns his way, he can only use his gestures.

turning to abel, he reaches out and presses his fingers to abel’s chest. did abel suffer? did the sickness offer him some solace, too? ]

[ of all the reactions he might've anticipated, suppose this hadn't been among them. Abel looks briefly perplexed by the gentle gesture as Dextera touches his chest, and there's a quiet beat where the priest looks quizzical before his expression smooths. ]

...Are you asking about what happened?

[ he assumes Dextera was among those who heard - saw - Ryunosuke's account of events after Estinien's passing. it makes sense to be curious about such a thing, doesn't it? so Abel is quick to reassure him: ]

It felt like-- like someone reaching out to cradle a long lost loved one. It didn't want to hurt me, hurt anyone... it wanted to protect Estinien's Shard, and it thought the others were there to do him harm. It truly felt... sad, Dextera. Unbelievably sad to see him, see everyone, in pain and thought it was doing us a mercy.

[ dextera had been able to see it through ryunosuke’s vision, true, but he hadn’t been there to experience it. he could only take what he saw and apply it to his own past, and it’s pure misfortune that his past could combine with such an incident to produce the level of panic that led to him broadcasting through communion his concerns.

his fingers curl slightly against abel’s chest, catching the fabric. there are pieces of him that still feel delicate and raw, and only abel knows why.

he exhales softly and gives an emphatic nod to that word, mercy—that’s what he had gathered from the sickness. although abel has not answered his question, dextera feels the need to defend the creature they saw. it had been merciful, in its own twisted way. ]

[ while Abel cannot excuse the consequences of the Innocence's ailment as it spread through the whole of Horos... identifying that this had not been a manifestation of some malice or ill-intent had softened the blow for him. he knows there are many who may not see things as he does - may not be willing to forgive or justify any of the suffering wrought, the lives lost, but... it seems Dextera, too, understands there was some measure of clumsy kindness in it.

misguided, yes... but knowing their suffering had not come from a place of vitriol makes a difference. doesn't it? ]

You... you feel more strongly about this than most.

[ Abel can feel it in the desperate curl of those fingers in the fabric of his tunic, and he doesn't need the communion to have it spoken to him: what Dextera experienced was a special kind of painful. but...

...it was also a gift, wasn't it? to see the face of a loved one long gone, to have that connection again--

the priest understands better than most precisely why Dextera's expression is twisted in such a way. ]

—…

[ dextera nods. there aren’t many who can completely understand where he’s coming from, but abel was witness to it. besides dextera himself, abel is the only person in horos—maybe the only person left in existence—that knows anything about dextera’s brother.

it’s stayed with him, all the way up to his plea across the pleroma to attempt to understand. maybe everyone would have been better off if they had given in… it’s the thought that haunts him, although he realizes that it’s not realistic, and the protests he’s met since even ryunosuke explaining the incident suggest to him that fewer people are on board than he would have imagined.

everyone is fighting for progress, but it’s taken dextera a long time to simply settle.

his hands are clean of food, so he doesn’t feel too guilty about clinging to abel’s clothes, nor does he worry when he moves to take abel’s hand. he squeezes abel’s fingers, an appeal for empathy. he doesn’t know how deeply abel’s relation runs, but he knows that abel is capable of making him feel better through understanding. he wants that. ]

[ it's been quite a long time since someone reached out to him for comfort in this particular way. there is some sort of irony in that, Abel thinks - especially for the way it elicits a very specific sort of tug in his chest, the kind reserved for those the priest has known far longer than he's known Dextera. but he feels it all the same... is it because of what happened in Venera? for what he knows the two of them to share?

he has never met anyone who might understand the keen loss of one's other half, especially growing up as it seems Dextera has. he hadn't had a normal childhood; it had been something sterile, something secluded, bereft of the comforts of a 'normal' family - and perhaps that had deepened the connection to the person this young man had quite literally been bonded to. they were all one another had, far as Abel could see.

...and whatever circumstances had parted them-- if it truly had been at Dextera's hand, then... that is simply yet another layer connecting them, and one so few others are poised to grasp.

the almost needy insistence behind the request for understanding is immediately answered without hesitation. Abel squeezes those fingers back - and tightly, the incessant gnaw of Dextera's loss and his mixed feelings for the Pleroma, for the Innocence, comprehended in full. ]

What it gave us was a gift.

[ he knows this would be a contentious point if voiced aloud to anyone else. but this is why he's speaking his thoughts to Dextera - someone uniquely positioned to understand what he feels, just as Abel can provide the same in reverse. ]

It came from a good place. I truly believe that it did... all of it, even if it was too much. To want to take away someone's suffering - everyone's suffering... to let them have a pleasant dream of the people they love... [ people they may never see again, otherwise, ] To bring them back to their happiest, most peaceful moments-- it's a pure, wonderful thing.

[ but... as there is always a but, isn't there-- ]

...But we cannot live in daydreams. You and I both know that, right?

[ the happiness there was hollow, fleeting, artificial. part of them would have always known deep in their souls that much was true - because half of their souls had been gone for a long, long time. ]

So, now that we're awake again... we have to take the bittersweet reminder of that dream with us, alright? Keep it close. [ another little squeeze of his hand in Dextera's. ] We can use it to remind ourselves who we are, who we used to be.

One day... we might see the people who met us in dreams, Dextera. I want both of us to take a path from here that will see us deserving of them when we do.

[ dextera wishes abel had ended before that but. he wishes, but like everything else he’s ever hoped for, manifesting it is impossible. it’s dangerous. if dextera could hear it justified from someone else, that he’s allowed to stay deep in that daydream and never come out, then he would. he would gladly throw himself into the depths.

but abel understands. he understands both the call and the reason it must be refused. ]

…

[ it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, in the way a parent gently correcting their child with nothing but love can still sting. he knows that he can’t have his brother back the way the sickness offered it to him. those years are long past, even if his brother had been able to live to adulthood. that’s painful when that was the happiest he’s ever been, and certain it’s the happiest he ever will be.

abel tries to offer hope, nonetheless. in dreams. dextera has seen the ghost of his brother with nothing but malice for him, and he wonders if he could take a more upright path…

perhaps… ]

…ngh.

[ he’s gotten through in one way or another; dextera abruptly decides he can’t handle much more.

even though he’s a grown man, the topic feels like it’s reducing him to someone much smaller. he’s already holding abel’s hand, but like a stray animal that’s found some safety for the first time, he pushes himself against abel’s body—his shoulder to abel’s chest, seeking solace. ]

[ Abel cannot offer Dextera the comfort he's searching for. he cannot be the actual person that Dextera wishes were truly able to hold him here beneath the sunlight. but hopefully, even if it's just for a little while--

this might be enough.

the priest only takes a small beat - just enough time to get over his initial surprise - before he winds his arms around his friend in reciprocation of the gesture; it... definitely hurts in a bittersweet way. he knows Dextera aches from a hollow, empty place inside himself that cannot be filled by others. there is only one soul capable of truly easing that pain. ]

...it's okay.

[ to hurt. to mourn, to grieve, to long for things they might not have - and truthfully, may not deserve. Abel does not presume to know Dextera as well as he wishes he might - even if he believes this boy to be too kind-hearted to have taken his sibling's life in cold blood. he also knows that it isn't always an act of hatred that brings one to take a life.

whatever it is that had driven the brothers apart, Abel cannot bring them back together - but he can be a shoulder to lean on in his twin's absence. not a replacement, but... a stand-in, even if just for a while.

...just-- for a little while. ]

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to the pleroma (text)

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