aionchat | to the pleroma (text)

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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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Would you take a walk with me? Meet me somewhere...?

[ he doesn't know Dextera's holed himself up, but... perhaps a little fresh air will do him good, regardless. some time to clear his head away from wherever he's been - has he been alone...? ]

[ the only reason dextera doesn’t turn to his voice now is because it would be immediate, obvious evidence that he’s going through it. ]

Yes. Please.

...Okay. Okay-- come and meet me by that tavern, the one with the-- the, ah. The cute sheep sign out front, alright?

[ they'd passed there before plenty of times, so... Dex should know the one!! ...hopefully. ]

[ it does take dextera a moment to recall, but he’s able to land upon it in his memory. he gives abel the mind equivalent of a nod, just the faint impression of agreement, and then he gently descends the stairs from his room to rejoin society.

he looks—not great, but perhaps not as bad as he could. his color is pale and he’s a day or two behind a bathing schedule, but at some point since their last meeting, he has taken care of himself. ]

…

[ the sight of Dextera makes his heart ache.

...Abel, in contrast, looks as Abel as he always does; he is no worse for wear if perhaps tired in the way that many of the Aion are after all that occurred at Venera... but he comes bearing gifts. there's a bag tucked under his arm, and he's giving Dextera a small smile before gently nudging his shoulder. ]

You look--

[ ... ]

...Miserable, honestly. Come on; we're going to see about changing that.

[ dextera looks at the bag, and he gets bumped while he’s doing that and meets abel with… an expression. it’s hard to say exactly what he’s feeling, as if he’s feeling so many things at once that they’ve all leveled themselves out on his face in perfect neutrality, but he’s certainly not unhappy to see abel. he even exhales a breath from his nose that, while not so much a laugh, is at least rueful acknowledgment. that’s something. ]

…

[ he nods then, and although he seems to be bundling in on himself, he’s also walking close to abel. it’s a display of his own kind of concern after what happened in venera, even if he’s unable to manifest the worry he might normally when he’s already having a meltdown himself. ]

[ it's alright; Abel knows better than to expect Dextera to be chatty, of course - so him following along in a comfortable enough silence is more than enough.

he's taking them away from the busier city streets, heading closer toward the docks; while it's still quite loud and busy here, there are some quieter spots one can sit and dangle their legs over the water, get a taste of the air, breathe a little more freely. that's precisely where Abel's taking them, and it isn't until he's plunked on down and patted the spot beside him he breaks the silence. ]

Are you hungry...? When's the last time you ate something?

[ the question of when was the last time he ate something is different from what the questions means, which is when was the last time he ate something substantial. dextera is always putting things he shouldn’t into his mouth, particularly when he’s hungry, but he hasn’t eaten anything meaningful in a day or two. it’s certainly contributing to his pale color and frantic mood.

as such, even if the answer is obviously yes he’s hungry, he sort of unhelpfully shrugs as he sits next to abel—but almost immediately switches his position so rather than letting his legs dangle off, he’s crouched to peer over into the water instead. ]

…

[ oh. well; with Dex, body language and facial expressions go a long way to communicate for him, and Abel can get the gist of his answer.

so he's digging into the bag tucked under his arm, pulling out two beef-and-potato-filled pastries; they're individually wrapped, but God there are at least six in here. one would be filling for a normal person, but

they are not normal people,

so there are six. ]

Here, here. And please don't tell Ernesto I did this, alright? He'll stop pity-feeding me and I depend very heavily on those guilt-skewers to live, thank you~!

[ ...come and sit and eat, Dextera. and once he's had a little in his belly, it's time to Talk.

everyone loves Talking, right? it'll be fun!!! ]

[ 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. ]

to the pleroma (text)

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