audio / Soviseri 29 / all Kenoma

[galdorleod]

[ Howl's psychic voice is familiar in the way it sounds, but not in the way it feels. There is no mirth, no haughty playfulness, no usual thread of flippancy to his words. He is exhausted, on edge, and anxious, and it leaks into his message. Although "leaks" is not even the right word — he is making no real attempt at hiding his misery right now. ]

Aions have arrived in this world twice so far. The second batch appeared in the Shrines about three months after the first.

Tomorrow... marks another three months.

[ it's much too early to say there is any kind of pattern to it all, but... ]

Those of you whole enough to travel to the Shrines and check for new Aions must do so. We cannot afford to let the Pleroma strengthen their numbers.

[ And for now, he leaves it at that. No indication of what he is planning to do with his weekend, and definitely, conspicuously no mention of the mission failures, the traitors, or the prisoners. ]

Comments

[galdorleod]

[ Ciel is sharp. She's picked up on the heart of the matter quickly, impressively so. A soft, humorless smile floats onto Howl's features as he looks down at his hands. The darkened, roughened change to his palms is hard to describe, something between burn scars and callouses. Could he comfortably touch another person with hands like this? A woman? Who would want him to touch them with these hands, when Howl wouldn't want to be touched by them himself?

With a soft sigh, he takes a tea sandwich from the platter as an excuse to lower his hands. ]

I felt... fine. It didn't bother me at all.

[ The neutral tone of his voice helps elaborate: really, he felt almost nothing. Howl is more bothered by how wrong that itself feels, than by the feelings themselves. He isn't one to feel nothing as he launches homicidal attacks on others, risking his own life to do so. He remembers when warfare like this disturbed him greatly, a time when he was willing to sacrifice his life to stop such fighting, not perpetuate it. ]

...Is that not how you feel, in the same situation, Ciel? [ another genuine question. there's no sarcasm in his voice. ]

[expiera]

[So... that's what it was.

The realization is sobering. It SHOULD be alarming, yet Ciel doesn't find herself particularly surprised by the revelation. It should've been obvious in hindsight, and watching Howl now confirms it: those found inadequate have their humanity stripped, in order to become more efficient for this "cause" that unites them all. Morals, motives, the things people feel that drive them into doing what they want to do... Of course it's been related, all along.]

No, it's not the same.

[She refutes quietly, stewing on the dawning realization of what he might've lost. What's being stripped from Liem and Barnaby right now too, possibly, most likely.]

I make the conscious choice to act however I must for what I have to do. It's like flipping a switch, if you will.

[She leans forward in her seat a bit as she continues affixing him through clear blue eyes, while her hands hover at the rim of her cup.]

You don't have that, do you? It's unconscious, automatic.

[His switch is broken. Can he refute that?]

[galdorleod]

[ That answer strikes Howl as odd. He'd asked about how she felt, not how she makes her decisions. Howl tips his head, looking down as he tears a corner away from the tea sandwich. ]

...have what? A choice? You misunderstand. I am in clear control of my actions, and I do not claim otherwise.

[ He chews the torn-off bite of food for a moment, an excuse to pause his words. How to best put this? ]

Perhaps a bit too in control.

[expiera]

That's the heart of it, isn't it? As easy as it was for you to act, you still feel like something isn't quite right, you're also aware enough of that oddity to talk about it. [Is it clearer, if she puts it that way?] It's not the same as riding a bike or swimming, practicing muscle memory innate and natural to you.

[She finally takes her eyes off him, and takes another sip of her own cup. Putting it back down after a short pause, she gives a quiet exhale before continuing.]

That's logical, too. Hurting others is not [should not be] comparable. For those who don't take enjoyment in others' suffering, doing work that enables it boils down to a matter of necessity.

[...]

Did you thought of that, that what you were doing is necessary?

[Did he think at all?]

[galdorleod]

[ Did he...? Did he think it was necessary? It was, wasn't it? It's what the Regent demanded they do. Yes, isn't that what made it necessary?

But Howl is quiet, and this time the silence lasts much longer. Avoiding eye contact with Ciel, he tears bites from the sandwich with his long black nails, almost like a child playing with his food. It isn't until he's on the final piece that he speaks again. ]

...There was a war going on in my world before I came here. Our king, the one I'd sworn allegiance to when I graduated from the Sorcerer's Academy, was waging an assault on a neighboring country... The justification was transparently flimsy. I'd long ago refused to be a member of his military, which made me both a pariah and an outlaw, but... I didn't care. My freedom is what mattered most to me, including my freedom to refuse the crown's call to war.

And my freedom to be with Calcifer. [ his.. friend, who he's told Ciel about before, albeit in coded language.

He sets the final square of sandwich back on his plate and glances cautiously at Ciel. ]

I was an active participant in the war, before everything was lost, but it was as more of a... saboteur. I remember feeling that my involvement, in that sense, was necessary. To interfere and obstruct their war mages and airships...

[ His willingness back then to throw himself entirely at stopping their bombs, even at the cost to himself, has clear parallels to the conflict here in Horos. So why does it not feel the same? ]