[ There's a palpably stunned silence as Gray tries to process this in the middle of laundry, or whatever she was doing when he called. She frowns, grips the hem of her cloak, tries and fails to stop her anxiety from leaking through their connection.
[ One day he will learn to be normal but today is not that today. ]
I killed him.
[ That explains everything, right—
He doesn't know why he admits to that right away, other than the fact that he needs the truth of his actions to be known. Even if it had been done out of mercy, even if Dokja had agreed to it without question, it still doesn't change the fact that he'd murdered a man. ]
He—agreed to it. He would have died anyway.
[ It doesn't make things any better. It certainly doesn't make him feel any better saying that, misery and grief threatening to burst out past his usual wall of composure. ]
I'm at the Tree. I can explain everything there.
Edited (my typos x2, i am so sorry to your inbox) 2023-09-16 14:17 (UTC)
[ It would have been bad enough if Dokja had been killed by some random creature or a Zenite. That Eustace had to do it instead sobers her shock, and presses more deeply into her heart like a knee into flesh. ]
I'll be there right away.
[ She doesn't ask why he can't just tell her like this. She'd rather be there anyway.
It won't be long before Gray comes jogging up to the Tree, propelled by the bleeding grief that lingers from their Communion. She doesn't call out as she nears; the area around the Tree is mellow and still, hers the only footsteps that tap against the serenity of the place. She can imagine why Eustace is here; though this is called the Tree of Life, it serves nearly as much as a graveyard. As such she steps lightly until she reaches him, careful to disturb as little as possible. ]
Mr. Eustace...
[ She looks at him closely, trying to get a read. She already knows that he feels unhappy, but to what extent? ]
[ By the time Gray arrives, Eustace is at least a little more put together, seated cross-legged in front of an unassuming spot in the dirt as he wipes away the last of the blood off a dagger with a torn piece of cloth. It'll be need a more thorough cleaning soon if he doesn't want it to rust....or he could just throw it away and never have to deal with the proof of his actions ever again.
He looks up when Gray arrives, setting the dagger off to the side. ]
Gray. [ Once again, no 'hi' or 'how are you'. ] Sorry for making you come all this way.
[ It's not like he couldn't have explained over Communion, but the thought of being alone right now makes him feel even more miserable. ]
[ Gray glances at the dagger, its presence like a curse, before quickly shaking her head. ]
It's okay. I want to be here.
[ She takes his requests seriously, and she'd be much more worried if he'd hidden himself away. If anything, she's grateful that he asked her to come — or as grateful as one can be upon news of a friend's death, temporary or not.
She pulls her skirt from under her before settling onto her knees next to Eustace. She eyes the unassuming spot in the dirt. ]
[ Buried in the dirt like some sort of seed waiting to sprout...which isn't that far from the truth. Weird to think that this is how they're reborn in this world, but he supposes the metaphor makes sense.
He waits until she sits, until it's just the two of them on the cold ground while the far-reaching roots of the Tree fan out overhead. ]
You knew he was experimented on. [ An abrupt beginning, but a beginning nonetheless. ] Apparently there were side effects. Rising Discord, for one.
[ He's not sure how much she knows, but it can't hurt to lay out all the details. ]
[ It's strange how normal Shard life has become, the miracle of rebirth taken for granted. Yet the emotional toll of death remains (for the most part) as it should. She would be far more disturbed if death felt pedestrian.
She gazes at Dokja's little spot in the dirt, undecided on whether it looks more like a burial plot or a planted seed. ]
The person who was experimented on with him mentioned something similar, but her Discord has seemed to stabilize.
[ At the very least, Rin has been able to manage it so far. ]
Mr. Dokja never said anything to me about it. There was no way to stop his Discord from getting worse? And if there wasn't... might this just happen again once he comes back?
It's a bitter thought that he keeps to himself, because there's no point in making a depressing situation even worse by lamenting over what-ifs. Figures Dokja never said anything about it though, to either of them. In that regard, they're too much alike: more concerned with the well-being of others than their own, and willing to conceal any hardship in order to reassure the people around them. (Not that it had ever really worked.) ]
The usual methods of managing Discord didn't work for him, or so he said. [ In this he's inclined to believe Dokja. ] We didn't talk about the possibility it might remain even after [ he waves one hand towards Dokja's little plot ] this, but he seemed convinced it would go away after death.
[ Whether or not that hope will actually turn true remains to be seen. ]
I don't know how long it'll take for him to come back, but you don't have to stay the entire time.
[ If dissipation will solve Dokja's Discord problem, then that will be a small mercy. Maybe Aetos told Dokja something that made him certain about it. ]
I'll stay a while longer.
[ She wouldn't feel right leaving right away for a number of reasons. Even if Dokja isn't permanently dead (they can hope), there's a place still for grief. She breathes, looking up into the vastness of the Tree. A prayer wouldn't be appropriate, but a bit of remembrance might be. ]
How did you meet Mr. Dokja?
[ After all this time, Eustace's social life is still a bit of a mystery to her... ]
[ He's grateful for her steady presence, even if he doesn't say as much aloud. But there's a slight drop to his shoulders, not out of any sense of relaxation but of comfort.
The answer to her question is easy enough to give, a couple of seconds pass before he finally replies. ]
We met when I first arrived in Horos and had no idea where I'd woken up. [ Bumbled around the remnants of their crystal cocoons together naked as the day they were born, like god intended. ] I thought he was a gigantic asshole back then.
[ Pardon his language. At least he doesn't sound angry at all, only factual.
They hadn't gotten along at all back then, a year and a half ago, constantly at each other's throughts over the smallest of things. Truthfully he's still not sure whether they get along well or not, only that the shared experience of surviving everything both Horos and Kenos have thrown at him has been enough to trump those petty disagreements.
He looks thoughtful as he stares at the dirt. A little regretful. ]
It must have been hard. To have been here since the very beginning and stayed behind as everyone else leaves, one by one.
[ Dokja, an asshole? He's always been nice enough to Gray, but maybe it's easier to get into quarrels with someone like Eustace, who can be a bit stoic. And uncommunicative. And curt. And back when they were all new to their new lives as walking Shards, they were under quite a bit of stress...
As to Eustace's other point, Gray is silent for a moment, thoughtful. She vaguely remembers that exodus, which was somehow both long and sudden. In a way, it's still happening. Except for a handful of people, Eustace included, the people who were impactful in her life a year ago have already gradually disappeared without a trace.
If Dokja was the last of them to leave Horos, then surely he suffered. For that to hang in Eustace's mind now, he must be deep in his guilt. ]
When he gets back, we should do something for him.
[ It might make Dokja feel better, but more importantly (sorry Dokja) it might make Eustace feel better too. ]
Gray's question is easy to answer, at least on the surface. ]
Books.
[ He replies immediately, without even blinking. There's always at least one within easy reach and a few more piled just a few feet away. The guy owns a bookstore, for crying out loud, even if he had inherited it from someone else. He's a nerd through and through. But it's endearing in its own way. It's good to have enthusiasm for a hobby.
Past that....Eustace falls into a thoughtful silence, trying to scrounge up what else he knows of the man. He thinks about the little bits he knows about Dokja's history, and the brief conversation they'd shared during the last Oracle. Unlike when he'd answered before, there's less confidence in his voice. ]
Maybe an outing, with all of us. Something where we all spend time together. [ Something where he doesn't have to be alone. ] A picnic?
[ He's not good at this whole social thing, please send help. ]
[ Books make immediate sense given the wholeass bookstore, and Gray would have been satisfied with that answer. Then Eustace suggests a picnic, and she can't help it; she looks askance at him with open surprise. ]
[ Suddenly, he feels like he's said something horribly wrong. Is it really that surprising...? Sure, he himself may not be a social butterfly but surely Dokja's always been a bit more on the sociable side. ]
I think... [ He picks his way through his words slowly, carefully. ] Dokja's been alone for a lot of his life.
[ There's a lot he doesn't know still and a lot he doesn't want to ask about, old hurts he doesn't want to drag back up to the surface. But he remembers their conversation during the Oracle and how much hope there had been in those dark eyes back then. ]
He told me awhile back he thought it would be nice not to have to do everything alone.
[ Maybe that doesn't include mundane things like picnics!! But also, maybe it does and there's only one way to find out. ]
[ If it feels like a strange suggestion to her, it's because of a combination of Eustace not normally suggesting such soft-sounding activities and Gray never having gone picnicking herself. She would have been just as startled if her mage mentor had suggested such a thing... No, it's a little less startling from Eustace, who doesn't put on nearly as many airs.
It looks like he's at least a little self-conscious about it, but the fact that he's persevering with the suggestion means it's important to him. He really must care a lot for Dokja. ]
... I like that idea. I've never gone for a picnic before, but they sound nice.
[ Very different from camping, surely, which she's already done too much of. ]
We can bring Raisin too. Oh, and I can make pasties to bring along.
[ Soon Gray will be opening her own pie shop and making a name for herself through all of Springstar.... For now, she can test all her creations on the two grown men that reside in Casa de Dokja.
He raises an eyebrow at her suggestion, more amused than puzzled. ]
I didn't realize you enjoyed baking so much.
[ She's always been helpful around the house, but this seems to go beyond any sense of dutiful household contribution. Maybe he should get her a few nice pie tins for her birthday next year... ]
[ Never mind, he will not be buying her pie tins for her birthday.
Her fears are unfounded though as his gaze slides over, free of reproach or criticism. ]
You're fine. You can do whatever you want; it's your home too.
[ Even if the house is, on a technicality, registered in Dokja's name, it's become a place shared by all three of them, with all three leaving their mark behind. Dokja's clutter tidied up by Gray's neat hand, the streaks of drool Raisin leaves behind that always have to be scrubbed out. He's pretty sure Dokja would feel the same, if he were here. ]
I'm sure your friends [ including Dark 🙄 ] would appreciate pie as well, if it ends up being too much for the house.
[ Her home too. That gives her mixed feelings — the warmth of having people to return to and the resignation that the Earth she knew is further away than ever. For now, the warmth outweighs the melancholy, and she smiles mildly at nothing in particular. ]
I suppose so. Mordred needs a lot of energy to manifest... and Gen can eat a surprising amount.
[ immediately thinks of some of the most problematic people in her life ]
[ All the people in her life are problematic....it's fine..... ]
Gen is a teenage boy.
[ Said dryly, but it's hard to miss the undercurrent of affection that swirls behind the words. It's probably not a safe emotion to feel, especially when they've been placed on opposide sides of this neverending war, but it's also not one that'll change any time soon. His feelings have never been fickle in that regard, instead remaining near permanent once he begrudgingly allows them to take root.
But hey, wait a minute— ]
'Manifest'?
[ He looks over, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. ]
[ Gen is a very teenage boy who also happens to be tall and active. Still, she wonders how when he packs all that food away at once, he doesn't balloon up out of his britches.
She glances over at Eustace and nods. ]
That's right. She's closer to a spirit than a living person. I'm not sure why she came here like this instead of how she was when she was alive, though.
[ Who even knows!! Gray won't attempt to answer that question for a single second. ]
It's a long story... but the short version is that she was famous when she was alive, so the world kept an impression of her for later. The Mordred we have is a manifestation of that impression.
[ If only Waver could hear her kindergarten-level exposition... ]
[ Mordred, famous? Incredible. His expression twitches, like he's trying to hold back a disbelieving bark of laughter. Famously annoying, maybe, but Eustace has a hard time imagining her as any sort of revered figurehead praised by the masses. Maybe she was an infamous villain? The latter would be more believable than the former. ]
Does that happen often where you're from? That the spirits of famous people end up lingering for a long time to come?
[ They have spirits where he comes from too, but those are more along the lines of trapped souls and specters with unfinished business. Nothing nearly as fancy as what Gray describes. ]
Not that I know of. But there's a lot I don't know.
[ She gave up trying to pretend she knew anything before she ever started.
But she does know one thing. Her tone takes on a gentle note of lecturing. ]
More importantly... it means she can be powerful in ways normal people can't, and she doesn't always have the same logic as a living person. So getting into a fight with her would be very dangerous. Please try to avoid it.
[ God knows Mordred will look for any excuse to laser Eustace into oblivioun. ]
[ Mordred deserves to laser Eustace into oblivion, so this is fine actually.
Unfortunately, what I want OOCly and what Eustace wants ICly are two very different things, and though Eustace is still hung up on the fact that Mordred was at some point famous in her lifetime, he trusts Gray enough to listen attentively to her mini-lecture.
He does have one point to make though. ]
I'm not looking to get into a fight with her, but there's only so much I can do when she's constantly hounding me.
[ She's like a tiny yapping attack dog....which is ironic, given that he's the one with the animal ears. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Mr. Dokja...?
[ There's a palpably stunned silence as Gray tries to process this in the middle of laundry, or whatever she was doing when he called. She frowns, grips the hem of her cloak, tries and fails to stop her anxiety from leaking through their connection.
What happened?
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I killed him.
[ That explains everything, right—
He doesn't know why he admits to that right away, other than the fact that he needs the truth of his actions to be known. Even if it had been done out of mercy, even if Dokja had agreed to it without question, it still doesn't change the fact that he'd murdered a man. ]
He—agreed to it. He would have died anyway.
[ It doesn't make things any better. It certainly doesn't make him feel any better saying that, misery and grief threatening to burst out past his usual wall of composure. ]
I'm at the Tree. I can explain everything there.
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I'll be there right away.
[ She doesn't ask why he can't just tell her like this. She'd rather be there anyway.
It won't be long before Gray comes jogging up to the Tree, propelled by the bleeding grief that lingers from their Communion. She doesn't call out as she nears; the area around the Tree is mellow and still, hers the only footsteps that tap against the serenity of the place. She can imagine why Eustace is here; though this is called the Tree of Life, it serves nearly as much as a graveyard. As such she steps lightly until she reaches him, careful to disturb as little as possible. ]
Mr. Eustace...
[ She looks at him closely, trying to get a read. She already knows that he feels unhappy, but to what extent? ]
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He looks up when Gray arrives, setting the dagger off to the side. ]
Gray. [ Once again, no 'hi' or 'how are you'. ] Sorry for making you come all this way.
[ It's not like he couldn't have explained over Communion, but the thought of being alone right now makes him feel even more miserable. ]
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It's okay. I want to be here.
[ She takes his requests seriously, and she'd be much more worried if he'd hidden himself away. If anything, she's grateful that he asked her to come — or as grateful as one can be upon news of a friend's death, temporary or not.
She pulls her skirt from under her before settling onto her knees next to Eustace. She eyes the unassuming spot in the dirt. ]
Mr. Dokja's Shard...?
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It's there.
[ Buried in the dirt like some sort of seed waiting to sprout...which isn't that far from the truth. Weird to think that this is how they're reborn in this world, but he supposes the metaphor makes sense.
He waits until she sits, until it's just the two of them on the cold ground while the far-reaching roots of the Tree fan out overhead. ]
You knew he was experimented on. [ An abrupt beginning, but a beginning nonetheless. ] Apparently there were side effects. Rising Discord, for one.
[ He's not sure how much she knows, but it can't hurt to lay out all the details. ]
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She gazes at Dokja's little spot in the dirt, undecided on whether it looks more like a burial plot or a planted seed. ]
The person who was experimented on with him mentioned something similar, but her Discord has seemed to stabilize.
[ At the very least, Rin has been able to manage it so far. ]
Mr. Dokja never said anything to me about it. There was no way to stop his Discord from getting worse? And if there wasn't... might this just happen again once he comes back?
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It's a bitter thought that he keeps to himself, because there's no point in making a depressing situation even worse by lamenting over what-ifs. Figures Dokja never said anything about it though, to either of them. In that regard, they're too much alike: more concerned with the well-being of others than their own, and willing to conceal any hardship in order to reassure the people around them. (Not that it had ever really worked.) ]
The usual methods of managing Discord didn't work for him, or so he said. [ In this he's inclined to believe Dokja. ] We didn't talk about the possibility it might remain even after [ he waves one hand towards Dokja's little plot ] this, but he seemed convinced it would go away after death.
[ Whether or not that hope will actually turn true remains to be seen. ]
I don't know how long it'll take for him to come back, but you don't have to stay the entire time.
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I'll stay a while longer.
[ She wouldn't feel right leaving right away for a number of reasons. Even if Dokja isn't permanently dead (they can hope), there's a place still for grief. She breathes, looking up into the vastness of the Tree. A prayer wouldn't be appropriate, but a bit of remembrance might be. ]
How did you meet Mr. Dokja?
[ After all this time, Eustace's social life is still a bit of a mystery to her... ]
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The answer to her question is easy enough to give, a couple of seconds pass before he finally replies. ]
We met when I first arrived in Horos and had no idea where I'd woken up. [ Bumbled around the remnants of their crystal cocoons together naked as the day they were born, like god intended. ] I thought he was a gigantic asshole back then.
[ Pardon his language. At least he doesn't sound angry at all, only factual.
They hadn't gotten along at all back then, a year and a half ago, constantly at each other's throughts over the smallest of things. Truthfully he's still not sure whether they get along well or not, only that the shared experience of surviving everything both Horos and Kenos have thrown at him has been enough to trump those petty disagreements.
He looks thoughtful as he stares at the dirt. A little regretful. ]
It must have been hard. To have been here since the very beginning and stayed behind as everyone else leaves, one by one.
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As to Eustace's other point, Gray is silent for a moment, thoughtful. She vaguely remembers that exodus, which was somehow both long and sudden. In a way, it's still happening. Except for a handful of people, Eustace included, the people who were impactful in her life a year ago have already gradually disappeared without a trace.
If Dokja was the last of them to leave Horos, then surely he suffered. For that to hang in Eustace's mind now, he must be deep in his guilt. ]
When he gets back, we should do something for him.
[ It might make Dokja feel better, but more importantly (sorry Dokja) it might make Eustace feel better too. ]
Is there anything you think he'd like?
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Gray's question is easy to answer, at least on the surface. ]
Books.
[ He replies immediately, without even blinking. There's always at least one within easy reach and a few more piled just a few feet away. The guy owns a bookstore, for crying out loud, even if he had inherited it from someone else. He's a nerd through and through. But it's endearing in its own way. It's good to have enthusiasm for a hobby.
Past that....Eustace falls into a thoughtful silence, trying to scrounge up what else he knows of the man. He thinks about the little bits he knows about Dokja's history, and the brief conversation they'd shared during the last Oracle. Unlike when he'd answered before, there's less confidence in his voice. ]
Maybe an outing, with all of us. Something where we all spend time together. [ Something where he doesn't have to be alone. ] A picnic?
[ He's not good at this whole social thing, please send help. ]
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A picnic...?
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I think... [ He picks his way through his words slowly, carefully. ] Dokja's been alone for a lot of his life.
[ There's a lot he doesn't know still and a lot he doesn't want to ask about, old hurts he doesn't want to drag back up to the surface. But he remembers their conversation during the Oracle and how much hope there had been in those dark eyes back then. ]
He told me awhile back he thought it would be nice not to have to do everything alone.
[ Maybe that doesn't include mundane things like picnics!! But also, maybe it does and there's only one way to find out. ]
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It looks like he's at least a little self-conscious about it, but the fact that he's persevering with the suggestion means it's important to him. He really must care a lot for Dokja. ]
... I like that idea. I've never gone for a picnic before, but they sound nice.
[ Very different from camping, surely, which she's already done too much of. ]
We can bring Raisin too. Oh, and I can make pasties to bring along.
[ Her pie craftsmanship is evolving... ]
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He raises an eyebrow at her suggestion, more amused than puzzled. ]
I didn't realize you enjoyed baking so much.
[ She's always been helpful around the house, but this seems to go beyond any sense of dutiful household contribution. Maybe he should get her a few nice pie tins for her birthday next year... ]
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[ She won't name the specific person she's trying to make an ultimate pie for, though. She doesn't think Eustace would take it the right way.
(It's Dark.) ]
I hope I haven't gone overboard.
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Her fears are unfounded though as his gaze slides over, free of reproach or criticism. ]
You're fine. You can do whatever you want; it's your home too.
[ Even if the house is, on a technicality, registered in Dokja's name, it's become a place shared by all three of them, with all three leaving their mark behind. Dokja's clutter tidied up by Gray's neat hand, the streaks of drool Raisin leaves behind that always have to be scrubbed out. He's pretty sure Dokja would feel the same, if he were here. ]
I'm sure your friends [ including Dark 🙄 ] would appreciate pie as well, if it ends up being too much for the house.
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I suppose so. Mordred needs a lot of energy to manifest... and Gen can eat a surprising amount.
[ immediately thinks of some of the most problematic people in her life ]
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Gen is a teenage boy.
[ Said dryly, but it's hard to miss the undercurrent of affection that swirls behind the words. It's probably not a safe emotion to feel, especially when they've been placed on opposide sides of this neverending war, but it's also not one that'll change any time soon. His feelings have never been fickle in that regard, instead remaining near permanent once he begrudgingly allows them to take root.
But hey, wait a minute— ]
'Manifest'?
[ He looks over, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. ]
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She glances over at Eustace and nods. ]
That's right. She's closer to a spirit than a living person. I'm not sure why she came here like this instead of how she was when she was alive, though.
[ Who even knows!! Gray won't attempt to answer that question for a single second. ]
It's a long story... but the short version is that she was famous when she was alive, so the world kept an impression of her for later. The Mordred we have is a manifestation of that impression.
[ If only Waver could hear her kindergarten-level exposition... ]
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Does that happen often where you're from? That the spirits of famous people end up lingering for a long time to come?
[ They have spirits where he comes from too, but those are more along the lines of trapped souls and specters with unfinished business. Nothing nearly as fancy as what Gray describes. ]
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[ She gave up trying to pretend she knew anything before she ever started.
But she does know one thing. Her tone takes on a gentle note of lecturing. ]
More importantly... it means she can be powerful in ways normal people can't, and she doesn't always have the same logic as a living person. So getting into a fight with her would be very dangerous. Please try to avoid it.
[ God knows Mordred will look for any excuse to laser Eustace into oblivioun. ]
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Unfortunately, what I want OOCly and what Eustace wants ICly are two very different things, and though Eustace is still hung up on the fact that Mordred was at some point famous in her lifetime, he trusts Gray enough to listen attentively to her mini-lecture.
He does have one point to make though. ]
I'm not looking to get into a fight with her, but there's only so much I can do when she's constantly hounding me.
[ She's like a tiny yapping attack dog....which is ironic, given that he's the one with the animal ears. ]
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I'm not sure why she dislikes you so much. Did you have a bad first encounter?
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