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audio / Soviseri 29 / all Kenoma

[ 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. ]

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Preparations should be underway in case they are needed.

[ Oh, this is a worrying and unnatural tone. They have not spoken since the first few hours of their mission, perhaps this warrants looking into further. ]

Rest, by the by, is another important piece of preparation. In case you've forgotten that.

I've been resting.

[ Technically not a lie... He has been trying. But Howl is currently suffering from woes that rest cannot cure. ]

Whether I will go to any Shrines myself is another matter. [ for many reasons. ]

I'm sure you are capable of doing as you will.

[ And doing so contrary to his advice, on several occasions. In any case... he'll pry a little further. See what he can find.]

Prior to that, I haven't gotten a clear account of what happened in Godsblood. Were you on the front lines?

[ There was a time when Howl would have never answered such a probing question, especially not in relation to some colossal failure he'd just committed. But this is Emet-Selch. He trusts him not to scold him too mercilessly. ]

I haven't got any clear account of it either. Aside from what I saw after everything was already over, that is...

But yes. I was outside with Misa, keeping the perimeter secure. You can guess for yourself how that went.

...Howl.

[Having immediately reached the same conclusion as Emet-Selch, Ciel doesn't bother with putting any public airs. This is... very uncharacteristic of him, isn't it.

She considers asking him how he's doing, she considers asking him what he plans to do. Ultimately, she asks none of these, and simply settles for patiently waiting for any form of acknowledgement he may deign to give. She doesn't need any answers from him right now, so... He's free to respond however he likes.

Concerning.]

[ Ah. Here comes miss busybody. Upon recognizing the impression of her mind, he feels a pang of anxiety — and a pang of quiet happiness. He's not so tired that he's above the joy of being fussed over, whether he consciously realizes it or not. ]

Ciel.

[ He has no way of knowing exactly what she's thinking, what she hopes to hear him say, but there's at least one thing that's been on his mind. ]

I heard you were seriously injured. [ there's guilt in his voice. he's sorry that he wasn't there. ]

How are you faring?

[ As someone who lead others, it's an important distinction to know when to push them and when to be lenient. Failures could often be perceived as one of those times to 'push' for those who lacked judgment.

Knowing what he did of Howl, knowing what happened with the dissipated woman, and seeing his attitude here are clear signs not to do that. It could only do more damage than good. ]

I don't enjoy conjecture, but if I had to make the assessment, it seems we maintained our number while they did not. Not a victory in name but a victory of sorts.

It was just a minor leg injury, I'm okay. [She took a homing and traveling bullet to the knee, it shattered her kneecap and tore through the muscles, nerves, and tendons down the length of her calf.

There's no trace of that left now. It may take much longer than it used to, but self-regeneration is nevertheless a very convenient ability.]

How about you? We could talk in person too, if you'd like. Maybe over tea?

[The reply is mild and easy. Since he seems receptive to conversation and somehow has interest in her well-being, wouldn't this be better done face to face? A walk for some fresh air would be an option too, Ciel just has a personal tendency of defaulting to tea. An "old" habit.]

...

[ Howl has nothing to say in response. He knows exactly what Emet-Selch is referring to when he points this out — and he suspects that it's intended as encouragement, or even praise, in that... roundabout Emet-Selch sort of way. So why doesn't it make him feel any less rotten and guilty about it all? ]

We should be thankful that we all made it back whole. [ That's as much as he can say, but he sounds just as weighted down as before. ]

Edited 2022-08-02 21:14 (UTC)

[ Before Emet-Selch can respond, Howl focuses his communion to him and him alone. ]

...are the rumors true? Did we take prisoners?

[ A minor leg injury...? That's not at all what he'd heard, but Howl isn't about to question it. It's a good thing if the rumors were wrong. And it makes her invitation much easier to accept, too. ]

I am still recovering.

[ He'll leave it at that for now. ]

Tea sounds lovely. The fresh air ought to do us both good. Name the place, and I'll meet you there.

Edited 2022-08-02 21:21 (UTC)

[ Ah, a private conversation, is it? ]

We did, yes. Two prisoners returned with us to Achamoth. They were taken deep within the confines of the Citadel.

[She wouldn't be walking around so easily if it lasted, now will she?]

Let's have it at one of the courtyard terrace. How about with a view of the ocean or the river? The southwest one or the northeastern one, in say about half an hour to an hour?

[The time to get everything set up, of course. She'll ask for some of the servants to help roll things out.]

[ Hm. Howl can imagine what the prisoners are going through... and there's the rest of the rumors, which all but confirm it. The thought makes him feel... nothing. A thick layer of black that coats his soul keeps him from finding it particularly horrifying. Everyone's going to be destroyed when they win anyway, right?

That isn't the end of it, though. ]

They say that you helped capture them. I know you don't need to hear this from me, but... well, if that's why the Regent hasn't punished us all for failing, then you deserve thanks.

[ And yet, even as Howl says it, understands the truth of all the assumptions and conclusions behind it, it doesn't feel right. A pang of discomfort hits him. He tries his best to keep it to himself. ]

...Do you think they'll try to save them?

Southwest. The ocean.

I'll see you there.

[ With that, Howl places his Shard back in his chest, but he doesn't get up from bed for a long while after, choosing instead to stare at the ceiling. He's got to get up and get ready, groom himself properly and put on something respectable, but he has a hard time getting himself to move. Eventually, he does, and somehow he manages to get there just before the point of being late.

A long black coat, embroidered with silky black patterns and trimmed with wine red silk, sits on Howl's shoulders. He has left his hair black today, which is unusual for him, but not rare. All this black can't hide a handful of glaring new changes to his appearance, though — mainly the feathers sprouting from the sides of his face, along his cheeks and jaw, and the discoloration fingertips peeking out from the bottom of the coat.

He approaches Ciel and the tea table with his usual practiced smile. ]

You weren't lying. You look quite well.

Undoubtedly.

[ There is a flicker of...something that he notices after the words of gratitude. What the flicker is between them is impossible to define. He makes no comment about it. ]

The captives are well-liked among their ranks. What's more, after what happened in both cities they are likely searching for a reason to lash out. So-called heroes, brimming with enough hatred to come to storm the gates of this very city.

[ And despite having an Army, the Regent would let them in. Stoking the fires of resistance no doubt. After all, if a few Pleroma could infiltrate far enough within the walls of the Regent's city to free prisoners, what is to stop ordinary people from doing the same? Unless their plan is to crush them within the walls of the Citadel.

Emet-Selch sighs at the very notion. ]

Would they really be so foolish to come storming into the Regent's capitol?

[ It sounds insane. Unlike Emet-Selch, Howl is unsure if they really will try something like that. Because — how could they? How could they march into Achamoth and expect to get out again with two severely injured allies in tow? It's got to be too risky, even for the most selfless among them, isn't it?

Howl doesn't know anything about what the Regent might have planned in relation to all this, but it's hard for him to believe they'd rush to save them. ]

[Ciel is there long before him, having taken the liberties of setting the table with the help of a couple of servants. It is a rather nice day out, the chaos of the past few weeks set aside. So she opts to dress into something less severe than her usual robes, especially knowing the nature of her guest: a navy blue sleeveless sundress that reaches her knees, though her sternum is covered as it's where her shard is embedded. She still makes it a habit of keeping it concealed through her everyday routine, and while the dress is simple, maybe even somewhat plain, it's still casual and more effort than she usually puts in appearing less... businesslike.

He'll find her standing near the neatly set table garnished with a tea set and bite-sized snacks sweet and salty, that her lower legs are exposed do prove her words beyond doubt too. There isn't so much as a lingering scar, she looks perfectly fine and healthy without the faintest hint of injury on her person.

His smile is returned, bright and cheery. Just a lady greeting him for afternoon tea, nothing more and nothing less.]

Of course, it would do no good to anyone for me to downplay my injuries—if I had any. [Which she clearly doesn't, not anymore, so she gestures towards the seat on the other side of the table.] Have a seat?

[And she absolutely sees it, how he looks worse for wear with those inhuman touches on his body and in the pallor of his fingers. ...Howl.]

[ Matt's been meaning to check on Howl since the business with the Innocence. After what they saw of each other in that Veneran orchard. But he's kept finding reasons to stay away. He should give Howl space; he should let him process the fact that Matt has dreamt about kissing him; he should mind his own business and not be so needy all the time. And then, of course, Soviseri brought its own distractions. Matt couldn't bear to see anyone when he'd first lost his hand, and after what he'd done in Venera this time, he was torn between seeking connection--approval--comfort--and retreating further into himself.

Still, when he felt Howl's voice at the edges of his mind, the choice was obvious. ]

Hey.

I'm sorry it's been so long.

[ Ciel's unusual attire is not lost on Howl. She looks... good. This outfit suits her well. She actually resembles a typical young woman of her apparent age for once, and she even looks... quite lovely, if Howl is honest with himself. But his eyes dart over her for only a short moment, before tearing away to look at the tea table instead, lest the length of his gaze give away any of those thoughts. He is not in the mood to admire pretty girls and definitely did not come here to admire Ciel specifically. ]

Thank you.

[ After taking a seat, Howl leans back in his chair and crosses one ankle over his knee. He knows Ciel must have spotted the feathers on his face by now, but he keeps his hands folded discreetly (and perhaps, a bit conspicuously) behind the long flaps of his coat. ]

[She'd be lying if she said she simply changed attire on a whim. Howl didn't like it when things get too serious, that's a fact. Whether it's chalked up to his Legacy or what she's already seen of him firsthand, it is in part for his sake, though her only intent is to alleviate matters. Make an effort at pretending that things are normal, that they can still live their lives here and relax a little, when the mission they went on and the results they reaped were anything but.

He sits, and she gets on pouring them both a cup of tea. Once done, she also assumes her seat.]

Of course, we could all use a change of pace after everything that's happened. [Tea time break very much counts.] There's more to recovery than just resting, though. Have you been eating well?

[Nag or not, as to emphasize her point, she picks a macaron off the plate of sweets, its color a pale violet. There are small wraps and sandwiches too, if he's not feeling much of a sweet tooth right now?]

You needn't apologize.

[ It's a surprising response to receive, but not an unwelcome one. Howl has spent time pondering all of those things, and if that were all they needed to discuss, Matt would find the wizard to be wholly forgiving and understanding. He isn't sure how that power of his works, exactly, but it seems to be self-betraying. That's a tough downside to have to cope with, as far as he's concerned, and above it all, Howl owes Matt his life for using it. There's nothing for him to be embarrassed about.

Of course, though, a lot has happened since then, and now there's much more they're both coping with. As usual, Howl is in no rush to talk about it. ]

You underestimate the predictability of so-called do-gooders.

[ It's a lethargic answer, one that is given in an unusually resigned way. Sometimes he tires of these same scenarios which repeat themselves endlessly over time.

They will find their way here if they are baited into it. Though the 'how many' seems like a less predictable factor. Someone would come for them. ]

[ It'd quite transparent to Howl what Ciel's motivations are in inviting him here and speaking to him this way. To a large degree, he doesn't mind it, and actually enjoys it. Howl is so unaccustomed to people going out of their way to be concerned about his well-being that it feels good to have someone care. And he does know and understand that Ciel cares, even while he does not understand why or feel he deserves it.

He watches her pour the tea and studies the steaming brown liquid in the cup as he contemplates her subtly probing statements. There's no way to avoid the glaring topics at hand. Having accepted that, he reaches out with one hand to put a sugar cube into his teacup. Most of his hand and arm is covered by his coat, but his fingernails are much longer and more wicked than they had been a few weeks ago, and the skin is stained a greyish-brown hue. At the edges of his wrist, large feathers burst out of his skin. ]

I trust my retainer to bring me healthy meals. I have no reason to doubt anything he's served me.

[ After depositing a few sugar cubes, he reaches for some macarons, using his new claw-like nails to pluck them from the three-tiered stand. ]

...I assume you've heard the rumors. About how we captured two Pleroma.

...perhaps I do.

[ At his core, Howl is one of those do-gooders; the brainwashing he's been victim to has tempered that impulse within him. With it comes an inability to think on that level at the moment, and an associated inability to see the situation from their point of view, to try to predict what they might do. But the Pleroma aren't logical, after all. Can anyone blame him?

There's a pause as Howl makes the mental equivalent of a sigh. For some reason, everything feels so complicated right now, even though the perspective he's been forced into having is telling him it isn't. After everything that's happened, Howl can still feel it — the pull of the Pleroma. It's terrifying. ]

I... [ the thought trails off. Is there any point in talking about this with anyone? Even and especially Emet-Selch? He hesitates for a moment, but then his need for comfort and attention wins out. ] ...I killed a woman in Godsblood.

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