ic inbox (kenos)

[gravings]

I will definitely put something here this time

Comments

[epiprocta]

[ It's nothing personal? Gen wouldn't even think poorly of Gray if she were to be offering that gift to set up for a request. They might be akin to something like friends, but Gen still knows most relationships are transactional -- give and take. Debts and repayments. So what she says next earns a blink. ]

...

[ His first instinct is to laugh, honestly. Yes, Gray is a superpowered fantasy freak, but still. How much of a laughingstock would he be if he needed to be protected by anyone, like some weak little damsel, let alone by some little girl half his height? Ridiculous. (The fact that she wants to protect him at all is ludicrous.)

The only thing that gives him pause, really, is her sincerity. The fact that she's saying this so seriously. There's something sobering about it.

He'd simply been looking at her for a moment, but Gen gives a quiet sigh the next moment. Then raises his free hand -- to poff onto the top of her hooded head. He doesn't even rustle it this time, just pushes a little to get her to duck her head a touch. A little gentle bullying, mostly, but also so she'll be distracted away from the slight stiffness in his delivery.

He's always had a harder time lying about shit like this. ]

Alright. [ His compromise will be that he'll pretend her desire is a valid one. ] I'll carry it around. Right in my inner pocket and everything, promise. So you won't have to worry 'bout me, yeah?

[uproared]

Yeah, for all the freakin' good it did.

[ Mordred continues to glare at Add after he's removed from the danger zone, making it very clear how she feels about the situation. (She's also sitting cross-legged and cross-armed on the floor while she does, which really adds to the 'scolded child' look.) ]

Guess that's the real reason you asked me about him. If you were going to pick a Round Table knight to be a fan of, there are way cooler ones. [ Her. She's talking about herself. ]

[gravings]

[ As he planned, she ducks a little under his heavy hand. She recognizes it at least partially for what it is: a physical action to make up for a mental hesitation. She's found it to be a common tactic among a certain type of person. It isn't so different from her own tendency to withdraw into her hood when she's uncertain; in Gen's case, he is just bullying instead of retreating. In any case, she doesn't mind too much. She'll take it as an awkward show of appreciation. ]

... Alright. You promised.

[ She isn't completely sold that he'll keep the case on him as much as she'd like, but if he'll at least do it when he's headed into danger, she'll count that as enough. Though she'll disagree that she won't have to worry about him just because of this. There are so many ways for him to get into trouble, many of them bloodless and self-inflicted.

With her mission complete, Gray takes a last glance at Bloody Marie's. A fascinating establishment, even if it's not for her. ]

I should probably head back now.

[ The fight for the next Oracle is coming up, and a Meri in Highstorm will be viewed with more suspicion than usual — on both sides, even. ]

[gravings]

[ Don't tell her Mordred is jealous... Gray looks at her in all her pouty glory. She isn't really clear on this, but as a Master, should it be her job to appease her Servant's insecurities no matter what? ]

I was also grateful to him because he responded when I needed to release the Restraints of the Round Table on the lance...

[ Narrator voice: Mordred did not respond when Gray needed to release the Restraints of the Round Table. Oblingingly, she continues. ]

I think you're cool too.

[ Granted, she thinks all of the knights are cool until proven otherwise. ]

[uproared]

"Too"? Is that really all you have to say? Tch, whatever.

[ Still!! Grumpy!! She literally turns away from Gray to hide her pout, which does approximately nothing to help her.

Muttered: ] Stupid freakin' lance... stupid freakin' seals... why the hell's he getting all the credit? Mine's totally reasonable!

[gravings]

[ No matter how much Gray appreciates Mordred, she isn't excitable enough to jump up and start showering her with fanatic praise out of nowhere. Nor is Gray willing to forsake Kay or Add, whom she owes so much to. So Mordred will just have to get the pout out of her system. One of the cats pads around to peek at Mordred, perhaps curious about the sudden about-face.

But Gray is curious about something, now that Mordred mentions it. ]

What's your requirement? Only five knights answered, so I don't know the rest.

[ Having invoked the Seals Thirteen only once, she doesn't even know if five knights answering is a lot or a little. Maybe a little, since it wasn't even half. ]

[uproared]

[ Then she'll continue being unreasonably sore about it. The cat at least helps, if only to give her an excuse to not turn around. ]

It was somethin' like... "the battle must be one against evil". [ More "exactly like", but maybe this way Gray won't question why the worst knight apparently has standards. ] Obviously, whatever fight you went and picked didn't quality.

[gravings]

Oh...

[ It's a surprisingly idealistic condition next to Kay's, which was that "the battle must be one for survival." Did Mordred place so much weight on morality? Maybe it was something that used to matter to her, before she trod the path of treachery. Gray thinks about asking her, but she also thinks that the answer might unfold naturally as she continues to see more of Mordred's memories.

More importantly, Gray thinks that maybe she should try to address Mordred's unhappiness after all. There's a brief silence as she considers what the root of the issue might be. ]

I would still choose you as a Servant over Sir Kay.

[uproared]

[ Mordred glances over her shoulder, face scrunched, trying to tell whether or not Gray is bullshitting her. Normally she'd be more doubtful, but if Gray's willing to say it in front of not!Kay... ]

You'd be an idiot not to. A sharp tongue always gets cut off by a sharper sword. [ She returns her attention to the cat, faking nonchalance. ] As long as you understand that much, then I guess I can keep being your Servant.

[ "I guess." As if she'd have any choice in the matter if Gray really wanted to be an asshole. ]

[gravings]

[ Mordred will find Gray looking at her with her usual mild expression. The act of actively spreading bullshit is foreign to her. That said, she can see that Mordred is wary about it. Maybe it's like how someone who often lies will also assume that everyone else lies too.

Gray rests her hands on top of Add's cage and looks out the window at where the chickens (Tristans) are milling about. Somehow, despite being two worlds away from home, her life has only become more saturated by the Round Table. ]

Either way, you would still be better for me.

[ She does believe that, despite all of the Mordred-shaped problems that Mordred happens to bring. And though it may seem like a non sequitur, she continues. ]

I've been thinking that I want to get stronger.

[uproared]

Yeah? Then make sure Subtract over there knows it.

[ Deep down, underneath all the bluster, Mordred has a hard time imagining herself as the better choice for anyone... but good luck getting that out of her. ]

I'll help train you if you want. If I don't have the strongest Master, then people won't know I'm the strongest Servant. [ The arrogance of this, when there's a literal god running around... ] But remember that strength isn't just physical. Keep looking forward, but give yourself credit for the growin' you've already done, too.

[gravings]

[ Thankfully, Add isn't prone to jealousy... as far as Gray knows. Even if he can be a pain in the neck with his remarks, he's always been understanding of her choices and needs. He's unconditionally supportive of her, in his own abrasive way.

At Mordred's advice, Gray looks back to her, a bit flat-footed. It can be easy to forget that Mordred is in a position to give life advice after she's emulated a cat and pouted mightily in your living room. Nevertheless, to Gray it has meaning. ]

... I know. Even if I still have a long way to go, the me of two years ago would have been surprised to see me now.

[ Especially if the younger Gray could see the current Gray lounging around with Mordred with nary a death threat to be heard. ]

Training together... I'd like that. I can't be a proper Master like a mage would, so physical strength is all I can work on.

delivery

[sterngaze]

[On the shortest day of the year—or the longest, by Springstar’s calendar—Liem makes his rounds to play Santa himself, though without the red-and-white costume. For the past few months, his regular visits to Springstar’s community centre have been in service of crafting handmade solstice gifts for the people in his life. This time, unlike last winter, he’s prepared.

Some of the items he brings are simply handed over without fuss: a couple pleasantly spiced bars of hand-mixed soap, and a jar of soup mix with a brief recipe tied around it. The last item he delivers, with a bit more care, is a slim, hand-bound book. The pages within are penned in Liem’s crisp, elegant hand; it’s a cook book, with a selection of recipes inside that he thinks she might like. Many of the recipes are on the savoury side, but he included some sweet things as well. There are no pictures, however, so Gray will have to make the dishes in question to find out what they actually look like.]

(backdated) delivery

[lockedon]

[ though is it really a delivery if they live in the same house.....

Regardless, there's a small wrapped gift sitting outside Gray's door (because Eustace would never infringe on her privacy and actually go into her room) one morning during the holiday season. Inside is an embroided hooded cape (made of lightweight fabric for those hot Springstar summers, yanno), as well as a pie recipe cookbook (even though Gray probably already knows how to make every pie under the sun, he is trying his best here).

As usual, there's a note (unsigned) that simply says Happy holidays. ]

new year's delivery

[warmare]

[On the first day of the new year by the Kenosian calendar, a courier arrives with two packages for Gray's household. Within the one addressed to Gray is a hooded, haori-like robe that resembles the fashions she is used to from her own world. Close enough, anyway.

The courier takes out a note he had taken down that contains a message from the sender, which is revealed to be Hayame, reading it out somewhat in a rush (he's behind schedule). Something about it being tradition in her lands to impart gifts of new clothing for the new year, something about that it would honor her if she were to wear it, she hoped she liked it, they'll be in each other's care for the coming year, yadda yadda yadda...

And then the courier rushes off to his next delivery!!!!]

looks at all these deliveries and adds another to it

[damnpire]

[technically this is from dec but i waited on the thread for it anyhow

In Gray's room, she will find a boar-bristled, woodden brush on her bed. There is a bow tied around the handle just above a familiar magecraft sort of burned and filled etching. The bristles smell faintly of tea tree and rosemary. It will make her hair soft and shiny when used...

Usually, there would be no note because he's an idiot, but this time, there is a small one written in ridiculously elegant script:

I hope this is not untoward. Your hair is nice this way, too. Thank you for caring for the household and for Erebus.

Merry Christmas,
D

P.S. The fudge was good. Erebus stole most of it from me.

He's so good at being thoughtul and so bad at the execution.]

COMMUNION (HI BOBA)

[redsoil]

[ The last time he'd really dealt with Gray, he'd kicked her ass and stolen her sand, only to have her steal it back in the end. Ruthless.

Now, he comes with a thoughtful air, sweeping to the edge of her Communion as if nothing had ever happened to them. As if he's always paid her mind. And really, has he not? Her work in Alenroux had helped them gain a foothold. Her loyalty to Meridian and faith in their cause had never wavered. ]

Gray.

[ He calls her name. ]

I want to discuss a matter with you. The one I brought up in Meridian-affiliated Communion, about our future retaliatory strike.

HELLO SORRY MY COMPUTER DIED

[gravings]

[ Now this is an unexpected voice in her head. It causes her to stop what she's doing as she tries to muffle the mild alarm she feels before it can reach Set. She really hasn't done anything to be guilty of; she just knows of Set as something of a loose cannon.

Regardless of what's transpired between them, she could never be so rude as to leave him hanging, so she dutifully replies. ]

I remember.

[ Something about unleashing a weapon on Highstorm. A trickle of unease accompanies the thought, but she tamps that down too. ]

How can I help you?

HOW DARE IT????

[redsoil]

I want to know your opinion.

[ His tone is calm, but she is right. Set is a bit of a loose cannon. Brilliant and deadly, and commonly moving ahead heedless of the more diplomatic-minded individuals. Gray is, not someone he knows well. She is a danger, in that regard. She might even be detrimental, to Meridian's movements, if he cannot take stock of her. ]

Some have made their — displeasure — known. They do not believe we should retaliate against "Highstorm's innocents", even though Zenith has enticed Kowloon into slaughtering our own. Even turned people who relied on us in Alenroux against our efforts, made them ungrateful and hostile despite their never having shown any consideration or care to them before then. Before we asked them and demanded it of them.

[ He asks a sharp, cruel question. Perhaps an unfair one, but he has never blunted his fangs. ]

I want to know. With Zenith's acts tallied up: do you believe our people's lives are lesser than theirs?

[gravings]

[ Gray's opinion is jumbled. It's a moment before she can arrange her thoughts into order, putting aside her simple confusion over why he cares about her meager opinion.

Though Set's question is aggressive, Gray's answer is calm, measured by a modesty of thought that her opinion won't change anything anyway. ]

I understand why you're angry, but I also understand why people don't want to cause destruction in Highstorm. I don't want any of the civilians to be hurt if it can be helped. But I also know that things are only getting uglier between the two cities.

[ In other words, she's being true to her name, feeling neither black nor white on the matter. She gets the need for action, but if she were on board with wanton destruction, she would have offered up Rhongomyniad long ago; now more than ever, she's glad she's kept the Holy Lance close to her vest. ]

If you were to use a large-scale weapon on Highstorm... wouldn't Highstorm want to use an even larger weapon on Springstar?

[redsoil]

They could only dream of it, I am afraid.

[ A larger weapon? As far as he is aware, Kenos can't support that kind of technology. The one he is crafting is the result of paring down his ornate wishes and designs to suit the degree of weaponry-and-magic available to them. Only one individual might be able to counter with a weapon design of their own, and without being told to do it by Yima, Amos Burton will never. He's never going to have an original desire or thought that was not fed to him like ripe grapes, like a doting owner feeding their pet under the table. ]

The time I have spent, the experience and power of the individuals involved and the unique labors I have undergone are why this even exists in the first place. Highstorm, and their Shard-bearers, could never imitate it nor improve upon it. And because I am who I am, I would take care to monitor for it. So, let me reassure you — this will not become an arms race between cities and Factions. This will be a retaliatory blow, and not an opening one. An answer to whatever action they take to hurt us.

2/2 :>

[redsoil]

Unfortunately, the reality of war is that people will get hurt. Ensuring a just war is the most difficult of positions, and one that I take fairly seriously — even if I do speak of hurting, even killing, innocents.

[ He tips his head, and murmurs. ]

I must judge the number and importance of the lives I take here, against the number and importance of lives waiting for me to restore them. As the god of war, I am not blind to what a life, what a soul, weighs.

[gravings]

[ She listens to his certainty which is well beyond arrogance, the divine privilege that enabled him to attack her when they first met despite being on the same side. He can't help being who he is: powerful, warlike, and accustomed to having weight in the world. His personality is such that she feels that talking to him is useless, she being a mere country mouse of a human with a heart too tender for hard decisions.

If Set says that he only intends for the weapon to be a countermeasure, she can only hope that he'll stay true to that. But it's difficult to put too much trust in someone who came out of the gate betraying her, even if he didn't see it that way. And despite his reassurances, she isn't convinced that this weapon will be the final say. ]

Even if they aren't able to make one large weapon, they can make a thousand smaller ones. And it won't be us Shard-Bearers who have to bear the price.

[ Indeed, the weight of a soul can't be taken lightly. It worries her that Set would feel justified sacrificing a "few" for the sake of many, however responsible he might feel about it. Gray is, admittedly, a bit sensitive about the idea of people sacrificing other people without their consent. ]

Mr. Set... Zenith is waging a war of politics. If you're determined to make use of this weapon, I hope you'll also consider it as a political tool before a destructive tool.

[ Gray is no politician, but she spent a fair amount of time immersed in a cutthroat den of politics when she was in London. She feels she can at least try to offer that different perspective. ]

[redsoil]

[ Gray is such a good girl, and Set is the WORST ]

They already did that, Miss Gray. Kowloon's violent bid for autonomy below our feet, is Zenith's thousand smaller weapons. They have already opened the development of the war on the innocents, without remorse. For have you not heard the words of their most prominent and trusted? "As long as something good comes of it, anything is permissible," to paraphrase Amos Burton.

[ People die. Unfortunate, but true. He is a god of war, who has long been made to hold the weight of a slaughtered life in one hand and necessary evil in the other; moving him is difficult, but by the way his edges blur and the desert's heat dwindles, as if caught in the twilight of the day, he is not not listening to Gray. It's different, talking to her outside of an Oracle battle. Different, because he's not aiming to defeat anyone who crosses him, anyone who could bolster his power and thus, Meridian's.

She is gentle. He can see why she is readily beloved. ]

A political tool. [ And he does, for a moment, seem to come to some idea with that. A little smile, sharp but appreciative of her, crosses his face before he settles again. Quieter, and attentive to her words as best as a god can be. ]

If I were to tell you that my target was not the people and never had been, would you at least refrain from betraying Meridian about this? I want to rattle the foundation of their faith. Attacking their people is not how to accomplish that, no matter what people assume of what I represent as a god.

[gravings]

[ Gray rarely engages in ideological fencing, and she doesn't intend to start now. Set clearly believes that his weapon is necessary, and he will see it to fruition if he hasn't already; there's no point in trying to argue its existence back into kernels of imagination.

But she can at least say with straight honesty and a little bewilderment, ]

Betray...? No, of course I wouldn't.

[ She wouldn't betray Meridian. Not "she wouldn't refrain from betraying Meridian." Language can get in the way so much. Moreover, should she be offended that he would even ask? Imagine Gray being offended about anything. ]

If you could keep your target that precise, then I would feel better, but, um... pardon my asking, but why are you telling me all this?

[ She isn't technologically proficient like Nebula or an amazing sorceress like Akua, so she isn't sure why Set is scoping her out in relation to his weapon. She continues to be surprised that he hasn't grown bored of her yet. ]