inbox.

[ressusciter]

un: avenger.
text - voice - video - action.

Comments

[manlet]

You may speak in as many hypotheticals as you like. The physical evidence trumps whatever story you draw up.

[Bond or no Bond, he can understand Dantes well enough to read between what he's saying.]

If my presence were so unwelcome to you, you'd throw me out like the garbage I am, wouldn't you?

[ressusciter]

...enough.

[that's as good as a concession. for now, he'll simply appreciate the stroke of good fortune this is, as many emotions as it dragged up from him. as strange as this is.]

You still have a room here, such as it is. Must I spell it out?

[manlet]

What is an author but a creature who revels in the taste of subtext? Deconstruction is my hobby, Dantes! My obsessions and vices are the same as Shakespeare's!

[All this he says rather cheerfully as he moves to scratch Ignatz on the belly. The initial panic has settled down. Now, he's settling back into this conversation as though he has never left, as comfortable as easing into a favorite chair.]

If you cannot say what you mean, it's my duty to amplify that true voice.

[ressusciter]

Oh? And what does that true voice that you hear say? Go on, enlighten me, since I'm apparently deaf to the meaning of my own words.

[it's like picking up a thread, weaving it back into what was there. the cat is purring so hard the vibrations can be felt in his belly, and Dantes frowns - but still, there's less tension in his shoulders now.]

[manlet]

A man such as yourself is closer to wounded tiger than a man. Anyone approaching you must be treated with the same level of distrust for you could not bear another blow to your being. Not in a strange land like Geardagas. Especially not when the magic of this world demands you to allow a level of dangerous intimacy.

[He lifts his gaze from the purring Ignatz so he can watch Dantes's face.]

It is better to be alone and safe than to be poisoned by closeness. Correct?

[ressusciter]

[his eyes are turned down, watching the cat's breathing, knowing Andersen's eyes are on him but not rising to meet him. instead, he lets the words ring out. there's a number of tiny changes in his expression - the brief pressing of his lips, the slightest raise of his brows, the turn of his head, the way he draws breath carefully - that speak so loudly in the space between.]

You flay me apart with your words, and yet I still remain. It is true - it is a risk, a great risk for anyone to be too close. Especially in this place, when your very soul is exposed to another laying hands upon it. I have suffered enough for lifetimes, I will not be martyred for it or pitied.

[finally, he will look up, and there's that familiar spark behind his eyes. physically worn as he might be, his spirit is reviving.]

Welcome back, Andersen.

[manlet]

[Welcome back, as if Geardagas was where Andersen belonged. His time in this world was always a short one in his mind. He would do his best to survive here and, in the time bought, find a way back to Chaldea. He could not throw away his status as a Servant as Cu Alter had -- could not acquiesce himself to a life without the chaos and bustle of the Antarctic facility he's come to recognize as a second home. His life wasn't his upon his summoning: it was his Master's.

Oh, but it'd been nice to play pretend for a bit. To furnish the theater, to swear Bonds, to be something close to a real human being, even if it was only for a little while. And when Andersen was pulled back to the Shadow Border, back to the yawning halls of the Atlas Institute, he realized he'd become too accustomed to a bond he couldn't bring along. All that happened on this planet ought to be treated as a pleasant daydream. Nothing more.

(the edmond dantes of chaldea was not and could not be the edmond dantes of geardagas. they were parallel existences, never to cross.)

Andersen sees that light. He may as well have been punched in the chest, for how much it hurts him. His eyes escape to Ignatz.]

Don't deliver your sentiments prematurely, I only gave you the introduction of my analysis. Seriously... this is why I hate readers. They interject whenever they please, without thinking about the author!

[He pinches Ignatz's paws lightly.]

I hadn't even begun to flay you.

[ressusciter]

Then stop procrastinating and flay me properly. That or tell me what you want to do, now that you're here.

[the cat wriggles in Dantes's grip, and he can see the sign for put me down. gently, ever so gently, he's allowed to escape, and settle near them if not being held specifically.]

[manlet]

If I tell you what I'd like to do, you'll sulk.

[ressusciter]

And refusing to tell me will make me sulk more. Come now, out with it. You could say anything - I'm not going to stop you.

[manlet]

[Without the kitten to keep his hands busy, Andersen has to put his hands in his lap, irritated.]

... I want to continue researching the magic of this world. More specifically, I want to better understand how to control these mirrors we keep popping in and out of.

[ressusciter]

With the end goal being returning to Chaldea, yes?

[he can think of no other reason why this information would make him sulk. but such as it is, he debates getting up, lighting a cigarette - in short, trying to make his mind move at a faster pace instead of getting tripped and caught up in the trap of he's back, things will be as they were now. there was no way this sudden appearance was formal - Andersen would have burst through the front doors to announce himself if it was.]

[manlet]

Of course, where else would I have to go?

[With a sigh, he drops onto his back so he can sprawl out on the bed.]

As much as I loathe working, I can't deny Chaldea is working past its deadline. It's a miracle we've made it as far as we have.

[ressusciter]

Indeed.

[the thought occurs to him that he'd never sought to remedy the fact of what Andersen knew that he did not. he hadn't asked as to their points - and now, moved months along, he could only hope to guess at the state of Chaldea. that they were still working suggested certain elements.

with a sigh, he stands up and crosses to his dresser, picking up his cigarette case and catching Andersen's eye. the hand movement is swift, simple - if he wants, Dantes will share, as he's done again and again before.]

[manlet]

[He reads the offer and holds out a hand. Smoking isn't his usual vice but he can make an exception this once. They haven't seen each other in a while -- no, rather, Andersen hasn't seen this Dantes in a while, and he'd like to mark the occasion with something that isn't drink.]

[ressusciter]

[two cigarettes then, and he brings his lighter with him back to the bed, offering Andersen his before setting his own alight. it's familiar in every way, down to the scent, and it gives him some more control over his own mind. turning to his - not his Bonded, but still his Bonded - he feels a little like his old self again.

he can handle this shaking of his entire world again. all the world needs is a thunderstorm to make it perfect.]

[manlet]

[It's been a long while since he's smoked. Cigarettes -- real ones, not ones conjured up by mana -- have become a luxury at Chaldea, hoarded by staff and Servants alike. The smell of tobacco is familiar. Comforting. He knows this brand; Dantes smoked it all the time, to the point where he associates the scent with him.

Andersen takes the cigarette, delicately holds it between his two fingers. He puts it to his lips and taps Dantes on the arm.]

Hey.

[Light him up, too.]

[ressusciter]

[he assumed the other man would grab the lighter, but call it being brought back that made him indulgent. fine, he'll concede. inclining his head, he touches the tip of his cigarette to Andersen's, inhaling to light it that way. once it's glowing red in kind, he pulls back enough to exhale the smoke away.]

Apparently, these will harm you over time.

[a cheering thought.]

But I consider it to be that I shall return to being a wraith long before their poison overcomes any resistances I have.

[manlet]

[He expected the lighter, not Dantes's presence. A stillness settles between them and, almost imperceptibly, Andersen's breath catches. He doesn't move, is careful to keep his eyes on the cigarette in his fingers and nowhere else. It's only when Dantes pulls away that Andersen relaxes, lets himself release his sigh as a puff of smoke.]

And? Which do you prefer?

[The rich taste of tobacco is thick in his mouth. He breathes it in.]

The life of a human or the life of a wraith?

[ressusciter]

A wraith is what I am, in soul if not in form. This body can hardly be called human, though. It's only a creation of flesh, subject to the whims of magic to twist and distort it into strange shapes for untold reasons.

[he's never liked what he is. but he cannot change it - only find ways it can be borne.]

Neither of these existences can truly be called life. Only the clawing grasping reach of a thing that cannot and will not yet die.

[manlet]

[His answer is instant.]

Shut up you tryhard. You didn't answer my question. It's not about what you're resigned to: it's about what you want.

[ressusciter]

I can't have a preference between two things that don't exist. You might as well ask me to choose between two childhood dreams I barely recall.

[manlet]

You admit to having no imagination, then?

[ressusciter]

I have one. But I will not do you the disservice of lying about what I honestly believe.

[he's also been. moody lately.]

[manlet]

[That shuts Andersen up for now. He scowls and takes a long drag off his cigarette.]

Who am I to question you. I'm the same as you. I don't believe myself to be human, any more than you believe yourself to be whole.