summonerd | i just wanna know: who broke it?

i just wanna know: who broke it?

[Sheena'd thought she was all done with dimensional travel, now that the two worlds were united. But here she is, having fallen asleep in one world and woken up in a Tethe'alla that's just different enough from the one she knows to be constantly jarring. Her connections to Aselia's summon spirits dangle loose, snapped by distance - not even Origin's power could follow her here, it seems. That's more than a little unsettling.

It takes her some time, alone in a bizarro version of Meltokio as she is, but eventually she stumbles on a lead - an old scientific journal, a mention of the power of something called an Aegis being able to transcend space and time, at least in theory. And a little asking around tells her that Tethe'alla has its own Aegis, though no one's seen it for years. Well. Worth a shot, right?

Somehow she manages to talk her way into the Tethe'allan castle where the Aegis's core crystal awaits being woken up, with a series of smiles and her very best politicking - yes, of course she's got nothing but loyalty for Tethe'alla, of course she's skilled at this, of course it'd be a great honor.

(Zelos would be proud, she thinks, wryly.)

They're dubious, but her persistence wears them down, or maybe they're just desperate enough for a return of the Aegis's power to let her try, and the orange core crystal is offered out to her.

She takes a deep breath, and reaches out to touch it.]

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Nia lets them have their talk, not seeing the point in her getting involved. She likes this kid, though. Always refreshing to meet someone who actually gives a shit about blades.

She listens as Lloyd lists his wounds, then finally just takes him by the hand, sending her ether into him to get a better look. The first streams of water under his veins are somewhat gentle, feeling out the issue. Most of the wounds are straightfoward, and she directs the currents of healing ether to do their job there-- Purge infections and dying cells, help the body regenerate new cells to take the old ones' places. It's forceful, in a way, becuase water has trouble being anything but, until the currents of her ether reach the muscles on his back, and there, hit a wall.

She exhales, softly, having felt this before. Pathways of burned ether channels, scarred tissue left in their wake. Definitely ether overuse. Malos and Anna were the same, after--

Anyway.

"Bunch of burned ether channels back here," Nia tells Lloyd, just so he knows. "So you're probably right about ether overuse." The wings, she figures. No wonder, seeing as he's... Well, he's got a human heart, and he doesn't have ether lines or a core crystal, so even if his ether levels are too high to be a human he must be one. A human who can use ether, though? Fancy that. No suprise his body isn't taking it well. "I can ease the pain and heal some of the internal damage, but if you've got scars those aren't going to fade."

Nia pushes her waters a little harder, urging them to go deeper. There's some resistance, but only some, becuase few things can actually stand in opposition to water. It takes much more force than the river-like currents that healed Lloyd's other wounds, resulting in a sensation that must be much more like a tsunami overwhelming a shore of dead cells. There's a lot to regenerate, and she probably doesn't get all of it, but after a minute or so she lets her waters recede.

"There you go," she tells Lloyd, and then promptly finds a place to sit down. That was a lot of ether she expended. Where's Dromarch when you need him? He could have picked up some of the slack. She sends a scowl in Kratos' direction. "You're alright, aren't you?" she asks.

"I am not injured," Kratos answers, which Nia is grateful for, though it certainly sounds like Kratos at least has a stick up his ass if nothing else. After a moment, tone sharp, Kratos adds: "Colette isn't in the cannon, if that brings you any relief. It was Martel."

Nia raises her eyebrows, but Malos beats her to the question.

"Thought Martel was dead," Malos says.

"The same could be said of you," is Kratos' response, and Malos splutters while Nia does her best to bite down a laugh. Did Malos and Anna really not tell him? Oh, she hopes she's around long enough to hear that argument play out. "If I can believe that miracle, it's not difficult to believe another. Besides. I would be hard pressed to forget the taste of Martel's ether. I know it was her."

In the exhausted nothingness of unconscious, Zelos doesn't have to do much other than float about in the remaining ether his body hosts. Instinctively he begins the process of regenerating the amounts that he'd lost in the mines, but the process is slow and arduous, painful, at odds with the ether loss of the wounds he'd sustained. And then that ether leakage in his body suddenly stops as something enters his system, like a stream of water that freezes over in his injuries, tying the torn skin and keeping the rest of his ether inside.

Zelos groans, but otherwise doesn't wake. Instead he takes the time to begin regulating his own ether once again, running system checkups, sanity tests, configuring a few odd superficial things here and there. Breathe in, breathe out. It doesn't take too long before the ether regulation process in his core kickstarts itself back up again and Zelos' levels slowly begin rising.

10%, 12%, 13%, 15%. Slow rise, crawling through the minutes. It'll take a long while before Zelos can consider himself stable enough to actually do anything of importance, but at least, as his system restores and when his levels hit somewhere above the 20% threshold, he manages to wake.

And what a goddamn thing he wakes up to hear.

Someone's claiming that it's not Colette in the cannon. It sounds suspiciously like the blade from the mines, if he recalls correctly, and Zelos' first emotion upon waking is a sharp irritation when he still can't manage to catch the blade's name. Fine, then--he'll just be "That Guy" for now, for simplicity's sake. Slowly, with much effort, Zelos manages to open his eyes, then turn his head to the side to where he can hear That Guy speaking. And, honestly, what the fuck is he talking about? Zelos knows that was--it was--don't. Don't think about it right now, Zelos, it's fine.

His vision's still blurry, but he manages to catch the soft glow of the other blade's core crystal. At once Zelos struggles out a laugh, something weak and mocking rattling his exhausted lungs. "Who the fuck... do you think you are," Zelos manages out through laughs, softly shaking his head. Architect, he's still tired, but. "Some kinda... Aegis expert? That's--That's Colette."

Sheena can't stay down on herself when Lloyd's being encouraging, even if she'd tried. Everything just makes more sense laid out like that. "Yeah, you're right," she says, and then, more softly, "Thanks, Lloyd."

She curls in on herself just a little, bringing her knees up to her chest so she can rest her chin on them as she watches Nia heal Lloyd. Without the pressure of needing to get Zelos somewhere safe, and with her injuries dealt with, she's realizing how tired she actually is. They all need rest, though, not just her. She must have spaced out at some point, because she jolts a little when Nia speaks again, looking up as she listens.

"It doesn't really make a difference," she says after a moment, though she's still frowning. If Kratos is right - and he sounds sure, so it's possible - then it doesn't really make anything better, just adds a whole bunch of questions. Such as - "Whoever it is, we still have to get them out of there. But… if it's not Colette, where is she?"

Something shifts, then, in what she's come to think of as the Zelos corner of her brain, and she looks over to realize his eyes are open. He looks like shit, but - it's a relief to see him awake, at least. "Don't try and get up," she warns him. "I don't want to find out if I have the energy to catch you again."

Kratos gets a half a second to feel some kind of fondness for Sheena, the minute she insists whoever is in that cannon needs to not be in it any longer. A human who cares about blades is a breath of fresh air, and at least someone here other than himself is aware that Martel is in incredible pain and they need to save her.

But then Zelos wakes up and questions Kratos' certainty. Some kind of Aegis expert, Tethe'alla's artificial asks of him, and if Kratos was not currently sick with his anger he'd laugh. He flexes his hands anyway, clenching and unclenching them, trying to rein it all in but Martel is in a cannon, and he is here, half a continent away--

"That's my sister," he spits, at Zelos. "Martel is my sister and they put her in a cannon--" When he promised her never again she would never have to face that again he couldn't protect her he couldn't--

Breathe, Kratos. Breathe.

He admits, slowly, as Zelos stares him down that it has been five hundred years and maybe, just maybe, he could forget it , maybe he could mistake her ether's taste for that of another blade's. Hers and Mithos' ether already tastes so much alike... (Architect, don't let it be Mithos, don't let it be Mithos.) He considers Zelos' certainty, and comes to a few startling conclusions.

Aegises come in sets, don't they? It cannot be an accident that the two artificials popped into the world's history at the exact same time, even if they each were in separate countries. And if Martel and Mithos are siblings, then... why should he dare expect Zelos and Colette to be anything else?

(Mithos would never, could never forget the taste of his sister's ether. So even if Zelos and Colette have never met--)

Kratos clenches and unclenches his hands again. Counts up to three and then back down to steady himself before he asks, quietly:

"Are you quite certain, Zelos?"

(If it is not Martel, then he has gotten his hopes up for nothing.)

Don't worry, Sheena--at the ether levels he's at, there's just no way for Zelos to get up that won't hurt and tire him out like a bitch. He's at least aware enough of that, so, to show her he won't even move, he rolls his eyes and grins weakly at her, amusement slipping through their link. It's meant to comfort, somehow. And it's wiped off and away when That Guy dares to mention the cannon, replacing the amusement with a prickling sensation of cold needles in his skin, knocking the air out of his lungs as he remembers the mines, the pod--

Zelos gasps for air. It ends up sounding more like he's choked, and his eyes snap back to That Guy instead, staring, glaring. Nervousness, mixed with a haze. Breathe in, breathe out. All this excitement combined with the low ether in his veins are fogging up his head again, but Zelos is determined to stay awake. Determined to get to the bottom of what this blade wants and means.

'Are you quite certain', That Guy asks, and Zelos squints. It's just a question, something simple and more of a confirmation than anything, but for some reason Zelos feels the weight of the world resting on the way that the blade says those five words. Something hides underneath. Try as he might, though, he can't quite put his finger on what that is. Fuck, come on; now Zelos is getting the feeling that he's missed on something important while freaking out about the ca--

"Aegises... share a signal wavelength," Zelos croaks out instead through his gasps for air, blinking rapidly, trying to will down the leftovers of his freakout. Don't think about it now, Zelos, just don't. Focus on this instead. He takes a deep breath. "C-Colette has mine. Felt--Felt like... felt familiar." His eyes close. "It's her."

Edited 2019-06-07 15:48 (UTC)

Wounds healed and the pain in his back numbed by Nia's awesome healing powers, Lloyd shoves his jacket back on and makes it a goal to check for any scarring whenever he's next by a mirror. Leaning back against the tree doesn't do more than just sting at his back rather than stab at it, so he rests his weight on the trunk and closes his eyes, keeping at attention but intending to rest his exhausted mind for a second or two. His hand finds Sheena's again, and he takes comfort in the fact that she is a constant anchor to two separate realities.

Zelos wakes up, and Lloyd's immediately leaning forward again so he can glance at him past Sheena. The blade looks tired to the bone, and Lloyd would bet on his wakefulness coming with a side of pain and soreness. Poor guy. There are better places to take a nap on than the ground, but they gotta take what they can get, as battered as they are. Still, the conversation topic at hand is difficult to talk about when fully healthy, maybe they should switch subjects and talk about something else, like how they plan on leaving and when -

And then Kratos opens his mouth, and an unfair surge of irritation strikes at Lloyd's mood. Logically, he knows that Kratos has no idea that talking about the cannons so openly, blatantly calling them what they are and referencing them triggers Zelos like it does, but come on, man, have some fucking tact. Lloyd glares in Kratos' general direction, not wanting to cause a scene but no less annoyed on Zelos' behalf.

Unfortunately, Lloyd also recognizes the topic as important, so he pays close attention. Kratos swears that Martel is in the cannon, while Zelos argues it's Colette, and as soon as the picture begins to come together, horror lodges itself deep into Lloyd's core, his heart dropping lower into his chest cavity. His think-track freezes on one specific moment from his journey before -

That's not Colette. It's not her, that's not her voice, her walk, her tone. That's her body, but that's not Colette, not the girl he's known for the majority of his life -

and the possible truth of situation strikes him like a knee to the face.

"What if… both of them are in the -" a quick glance to Zelos, swallowing hard, "what if both of them are being used?"

Lloyd squeezes at Sheena's hand, both looking for comfort and someone who understands. Colette didn't deserve this in their universe, and Lloyd doesn't doubt that Colette didn't deserve it in this one. "I can't explain how it would work, but I… have a feeling that might be what happened."

What if both of them are being used? Lloyd asks and that doesn't make any sense until suddenly it does. Kratos thinks of Mithos, eyes bright and shining with pride, a swirl of dull green having taken residence in his sapphire core crystal; Mithos, self-sufficient because he'd taken the shards of Martel's core and fused them with his own. Sylvarant stole the rest of Martel's shards. Is this how they're using them? How could they? How dare they!? Kratos chokes on his own bile, violently angry and sick all at once, a storm boiling inside of his chest. He hasn't felt anger like this since he was in resonance with Mithos last, years and years ago, and on cue his mind sings dark thoughts to him, because if they'd just burned humanity to begin with none of this would have happened--

He opens his mouth. Closes it. He's too angry to think, let alone speak. He slams the side of his fist against the nearest tree, the impact connecting with his forearm, as well. It stings, but the release of the tension in his core is welcome, and the pain is distracting enough he can manage slightly more coherent thought.

(You don't know if they did that for certain, Kratos. Maybe save your anger until there's actually someone to blame, actually a crime that's been committed.)

So he bites down his anger as well as he can, manages:

"It's-- possible. I know of a way."

He's too upset to articulate said way, words getting lodged in his throat and confusion painting his thoughts because he thought sure only Aegises were capable of meddling with core crystals like that, so how-- How did they manage to do something this twisted? (How dare they how dare they how dare they--) His vision blurs with his fury despite his efforts, heart hammering against his skull. His mouth contorts in a sneer, bitterness coating his tongue, a sharpness that borders on mania filling his words as he spits:

"Just when I thought humanity couldn't possibly stoop any lower!"

Breathe, Kratos. Breathe.

Combined with the anxiety in Zelos' gut at the mention of the thing that we do not mention, That Guy's emotional outburst is a little too much to bear right now, actually, and so Zelos flinches when he suddenly slams his fist against the tree. Violet eyes shoot open right away. At some point Sheena's hand found his, and Zelos squeezes it instinctively as he tries not to get lost in the awful feeling of being too vulnerable to fight back against this blade's rage, his exhaustion keeping him on the floor, at everyone's mercy.

But--it's okay, he reminds himself. It's okay. It's fine, Zelos, it's fine. If That Guy wants to do anything to you, he'd have to go through people who need you first. But he's logically not angry at you. He's stated so already that his target is humanity itself, so please stop thinking you matter that much.

Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick.

He breathes.

Okay, okay. The theory of both Colette and Martel being in the weapon, together? Sends shivers down Zelos' spine, as he realizes exactly how it is that two blades could theoretically be able to share ether and life, even if he's never seen anything like that before. But how? Why? Did Sylvarant somehow think that by powering it up with two blades then that'd make it more powerful? That they'd have an advantage of some sort? But, Zelos thinks, that idea falls flat the moment he recalls that the blast wasn't even at full power, or as bad as he knows it can be. Had Sylvarant wanted to land a real blow to them, also, all they'd have to do is fire at the facilities, or the capital. But here they are, in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, having survived a warning shot. Who was it trying to warn?

Either way the worst is yet to come, he knows it. Because Zelos has seen worse shots. He's lived worse--

"I don't... Look, I don't know who you are," Zelos grits out, gripping at Sheena's hand as tightly as he can, shaking with racing thoughts and anxious, fresh terror that he keeps tightly guarded in his core. Slowly, against better judgement, he tries to shake away the vulnerability by mustering all of his strength and outputting it into pulling himself up to sit, grunting with the effort. "Take us to Sylvarant. We..." He licks his lips, blinks rapidly. "We need..."

Zelos doesn't even get to sit up. Keeping the emotion bleed controlled, trying to hide his panic, his ether levels, the pain, the anxiety--it's too much. He's halfway through getting up before he finally becomes mentally and physically overwhelmed, the defensive responses to That Guy's anger too much for his body to handle, and soon enough he's falling back down to the ground after having lost conscious yet again.

Tick, tick, tick, tick...

Stop.

Sheena smiles back at Zelos, something small and quick more worried-looking than she would ever admit to, before the weight of his panic hits her. Tired as she is, she can't really maintain the focus to close off the link, and she misses some of what he says in the haze. She tears her attention span back to the conversation in time for Lloyd's words, and--

"Oh," she breathes, voice low with horror. She shifts her grip of Lloyd's hand, squeezes back hard, heart still loud in her ears. "That'd explain it, but…" she starts, shakes her head to clear it. She's not sure what she'd meant to ask - some question Lloyd definitely doesn't have the answer to, probably - but Kratos reacts before she can get the words together anyway. Her jump and Zelos's flinch are simultaneous, grip tightening on both boys' hands because she hadn't expected that, but - she can't really blame him for being angry, not when there's a little flame of her own anger at the situation burning under her shock and Zelos's emotions.

Controlled as it is, what gets through the emotional link is still overwhelming, and Sheena's grateful for Lloyd's hand in hers as it surges to almost unbearable levels for just a second and abruptly blanks out. She has just enough time to register that before Zelos slumps back down, and she yelps in surprise, dropping Lloyd's hand to lunge forward and catch him yet again. For the moment she just holds him in place, not sure where to go from here.

The loud outburst from this Kratos jolts Lloyd, the following flinch causing him to bite down on his lip hard. Ouch, but also, what the fuck, Kratos, not the time to be violent and intimidating!

Lloyd's glower strengthens, this time aimed directly at Kratos, and as Zelos loses consciousness and Sheena half-dives to catch him properly, the glower turns into a straight up glare, Lloyd baring his teeth in a snarl. A quick glance at the Aegis lets Lloyd know that he'll be okay, but the fact that he passed out obviously agitated sits about as well in Lloyd's stomach as food poisoning. The worry mixes with his earlier horror and the multiple sources of fury that run their courses in his bloodstream, pumping aggressively through his body, and he's snapping before he knows it.

"Hey, would you calm down?!" Lloyd near-shouts at Kratos, putting in arm in front of Sheena and Zelos protectively, without thinking, only angry angry angry. "I'm as pissed as you are, but we've had a shit day too, asshole! Stop acting like you're the only goddamn one here who's suffering!"

Lloyd lowers his voice, coughing lightly, fighting back the way his throat aches from talking too loud at once after the mines. "If you want to be mad and punch things, fine, do it somewhere else. Have some fucking consideration, would you?"

Deciding to return to his earlier plan of action and ignore Kratos, he forces himself to stand, walking over to Sheena's other side, where Zelos leans heavily on her. "Poor guy's exhausted," Lloyd mutters, concern leaking through his voice. Kneeling, he gently grabs at Zelos' arm and loops it around his shoulders, shrugging on some of the blade's weight. "Let's set him up against the tree for now, just until we can set up camp."

Lloyd's words are like a smack to the face, and Kratos' ether abruptly runs cold. Shame overrules his anger (though other than Zelos, he doesn't see anyone ELSE here who's sister is in a cannon, but then he doesn't know it's Martel and again it's too early to get angry and--)

He makes himself breathe, slow and careful, biting back down his anger becuase Lloyd is right. He isn't helping anyone. And he-- he feels bad. Zelos definitely didn't deserve that anger, and Zelos is hurt, and even if Kratos has known the boy all of ten minutes, that's an Aegis, regardless of his origins.

"Sorry," he mumbles, head turning away. He's still agitated, anger boiling inside of him, and maybe it would be better if he left. Everyone here needs their rest and they won't be getting it if he's here causing a scene and sitting around yelling at people who don't even know him might make him feel better but it'll be a shallow catharsis and it's unfair to them besides.

(He wants Mithos because Mithos understands, though Mithos is more likely to enable some bad ideas in him right now but it's possible that Martel is in a cannon so aren't bad ideas a little warranted? He wants-- Anna, but she's unconscious, but she's here and she didn't even tell him she was alive and so maybe he doesn't want her even if she's always pretty good at dragging his head down from a bad mood--)

Architect.

"I'm sorry," he repeats, and he pushes off from the tree and walks off to give them some space.

(Kratos doesn't see it, but there's a second where Nia and Malos exchange somewhat worried expressions, and then silently decide who's going after him. Malos gets the short stick of the draw, but he knows Kratos slightly better than Nia does, so he figures that's fair. He just has to move Anna out of his lap, first.)

Kratos hasn't gotten far before Malos catches up to him.

"Hey, where you headin'?" Malos calls, and it's somewhat accusatory in nature, the lilt of it making Kratos bristle.

"...Sylvarant," Kratos answers, before he thinks about it. But no one wants him here, clearly, and it'd be a better use of his energy if he started directing it towards freeing Martel. (Even if it is not her, he cannot take the risk that it isn't. At the least, he should head to Mithos, because Mithos will know for certain, and that will ease his mind one way or another.) So he stands by his somewhat hasty answer, even though he just seconds before all he was really planning on doing was maybe finding some local wildlife to hassle to work out this aggression. Beginning the long trek towards Sylvarant is definitely the better choice.

"Alone?!"

Kratos raises his eyebrows at his wife's father, a man he thought certain was dead for good until about an hour ago. "Well, seeing as none of you are fit to travel, and every second I stand here is another second I waste, yes."

Malos does not look happy about this answer, but Kratos couldn't give less of a shit. "Come on, Kratos, you know it's gonna be easier to save her if you've got us with you," Malos begins, obviously trying to appeal to Kratos' preference for logically thought out plans, but it doesn't matter.

"I did it alone the first time," Kratos counters. "I'll do it again."

Malos definitely curses Kratos under his breath, but again, Kratos could not give less of a shit! He keeps walking, and Malos has to follow, and the best part is Malos is a kind enough blade that he won't try and physically stop Kratos.

"You can't just leave us, Kratos!" Malos says.

He almost sounds hurt that Kratos is trying, and that makes something ugly snap in Kratos' veins. "Why not? You seemed perfectly content to leave me," he spits.

"That's- Look." Malos fumbles for words, voice cracking and Kratos knows he's crossed a line but it doesn't matter. "That you can take up with Anna, alright?"

Knowing it was Anna's idea certainly does not make Kratos feel any better. Fed-up and too tired, too raw to do anything other than lean into this mess he started, he finally stops walking and rounds on Malos. "Why not you?" he demands. "It's not like you are bound by Anna's wishes. You could have come and told me you were alive just as well as she could have!"

Malos splutters, but he looks more guilty than anything else. "Kratos, please," he says, finally. "You can't- you can't leave us now. All of us need rest, and given the fact we were fuckin' ambushed, I'd bet Tethe'alla knows exactly where we are, and if we get ambushed again we'll be too tired to do shit about it!" It's a valid point, but Kratos does not want to give in, does not want to sit around here where he is not wanted, does not want to waste time when he could be saving Martel. Malos presses on. "If not for us, then-- for Zelos please. You wouldn't just hand him over to Tethe'alla, would you? You know exactly what they'd do with him, now."

...Architect damn you, Malos Irving, you're a manipulative piece of shit.

"...Let me clear my head," Kratos tells him instead of a proper answer, hoping to put off the inevitable (though against an argument like that he won't be able to). He continues on into the woods. Malos doesn't follow.

Holy shit, Lloyd. Sheena looks up as he throws his hand up in front of them, but she lets him talk. Well - it's not like she can blame him for being mad, especially with the way the emotional bleed had felt at Kratos's words in her mind.

"Thanks," she says when Lloyd takes hold of him, shifting her own grip on Zelos to match now that she's not supporting all of his weight and pushing herself to her feet. She's as careful as she can manage as they move him, getting him settled against the tree solidly enough that he won't fall. Sheena stands back, watching Zelos sleep for just a moment before she turns to Lloyd.

"Hey," she says, cautious, not managing to hide the worry in her expression very well. Asking if he's okay would be dumb, when the answer's already apparent, so- "Do you… want to talk about any of that?"

Edited 2019-06-12 08:49 (UTC)

Sheena's concern rings clear in Lloyd's tired mind, sweet in thought and grounding in presence. He shoots her a grateful smile, shrugging a little and then glancing back at Zelos, sleeping peacefully. Truthfully, Lloyd realizes he should probably talk about this, given the way he just entirely lambasted Kratos for being justifiably violent, but. As it stands, the guilt sinking its teeth into his conscious is outweighed by his exhaustion and his desire to end this terrible fucking day.

However, Lloyd isn't stupid. He's aware that if he actually goes to sleep tonight, he's gonna shoot up awake after a session of bad dreams. After the horrors and revelations and pain, the fact that he's almost lost his mom and Zelos and Malos all in the same day bouncing through his mind, Lloyd's betting that he's too emotionally distressed to actually sleep well. Bitterly, he wonders about what flavor nightmare he would get tonight - Zelos dying? Mithos dying? Or maybe he'll get one of his rarer Colette-centered nightmares. Who fucking knows. All Lloyd knows is that he's not sleeping tonight.

Still haven't answered the question, Lloyd.

"Ah, no, I'm okay on talking for now," Lloyd says, running his hand through his bangs. He could really use a haircut. "Not tonight, at least. We're both tired." And then he hesitates, because he hates lying to Sheena everytime he does, "I'm gonna go to sleep as soon as the camp is set up. Which… we should get started on, I guess. Seeing that we're the only two here to do it, anyways.

Another grin gets pushed to his face, and he ignores the lingering soreness as he walks towards the packs left behind by the group in favor of immediate healing. "C'mon. We gotta be responsible for once. How boring!"

She pulls him into a quick, soft hug before he can walk away, careful to avoid his shoulder blades as best she can. "Alright," she tells him. "Just… let me know when that changes, okay?" Sheena pulls back, shoots him a smile that's a little too tired to be fully reassuring but tries its best anyway, before she adds, "What an asshole, right?"

That might be a little unfair - from what she's caught of his conversations with the others from this world Kratos has had a lot dumped on him - but that's not completely an excuse. Her tone's lighter, almost-joking as she follows Lloyd towards the packs to start setting up camp.

He almost doesn't, but finally Kratos does return to where he left Malos and Anna and the rest. The sun has set, the moons are high in the sky, the stars shining brightly. They've set up camp, in his absence. Likely Malos told them all not to hold their breaths waiting for him. Or maybe Malos had more faith in him than that.

(He's not sure which is more comforting, if either is more comforting. It's hard to think about Malos at length, because then the five-year-deep wound he's trying to ignore just starts hurting again.)

Everyone's sleeping, when he arrives. The Aegis and his driver are near each other, no surprise. Nia's stuck around for now, though after the healing job she did earlier, that should be expected as well. Malos and Anna are asleep near each other, of course they are, they always are. (Seeing Anna, alive, peaceful, like this is any other day and nothing's changed, opens that wound again. He tries not to think about it.) (...Maybe he should have gone ahead to save Martel alone. Then he could unpack things with Anna, later-- But saving Martel as an excuse to avoid his wife feels wrong.)

Actually, there is one person awake. The Lloyd-who-is-not-his-Lloyd. Kratos scowls before he can help it, worried for the boy's health, but then it occurs to him someone had to take first watch.

Kratos makes eye contact with the boy from across the camp, suddenly nervous. Lloyd hasn't exactly seen the best of him so far, has he? It would probably be too presumptious to approach Lloyd, but it also does not sit well in Kratos' stomach to say nothing at all, so:

"If you are only awake becuase you're keeping watch, I'll gladly take over for you," Kratos offers. (He knows his own mind, and knows if he attempts to sleep it will not be peaceful, so better to not try tonight. He does not really wish to sleep before he gets the chance to talk to Anna, anyway.)

Also...

"And I am sorry, for earlier," Kratos says. He believes his anger was justified, but throwing a tantrum does not exactly make a good first impression, and Lloyd was right, saying that Kratos could have easily taken his anger elsewhere. That he regrets, if nothing else.

Edited (puts a link in to the other thread actually) 2019-06-13 06:18 (UTC)

The sky is beautiful tonight.

Leaning back against a tree trunk leading further down the path to where the camp sits, Lloyd stares up at the night time sky, swords at the ready by his side, arms pulled up behind his head, pillowing it. His jacket unbuttoned, Lloyd takes the time to appreciate the warm breeze that flows through his hair. He's kinda lonely, to be honest - at some point, he's gotten used to staying up with Malos or Zelos when he does stay up, but he's well aware the alone time would probably do better for him than ignoring everything in favor of talking bout stupid shit.

After all, what a fucking day they've had.

With a quiet sigh, Lloyd pulls his arms away from behind his head and grabs the wood block and carving tools inside his jacket pockets, intent on continuing his mini-project best he can.

Zelos' sword is a son of a bitch to carve, and Lloyd's really hoping his memories of it won't fail him here. There's a groove right here, in the center of the blade - the pommel looks like this, right? And the shoulders are barely connected to the handle, so the weight of the wooden blocks has to be balanced. It's easy to get lost in the movements, so Lloyd tunes up his hearing, paying close attention to any noise that could be suspicious in the meantime. It's here where he starts to think about the events that had transpired over the past few hours, the same ones that left his entire group battered and tired.

Lloyd glances over at Malos and Anna, and then Sheena and Zelos. Both pairs are obvious in their exhaustion, in the way they sleep deeply, and in Anna's case, he hasn't seen her conscious in hours. Concern sets itself in Lloyd's gut, but he ignores it. She's alright, she'll be fine, Zelos saved her. He'll have to thank him for that, really. Zelos saved all of them today.

His ether high crosses into his mind and he sighs again, upset that he had been so useless when everyone else needed help. It was a shitty feeling, and he's still not quite sure what triggered it aside from just the angel transformation. But he had been doing fine before the cannon…?

Whatever. Lloyd hears a sound from his eight o'clock and snaps to attention, dropping the tools and wrapping his hand around the pommel of one of his swords. This world's Kratos slowly walks out of the shadows of the forest, so Lloyd quietly lowers his hand back down again, keeping an eye on him but willing to let him sit back down without interruption. Malos had told them he might come back, and if Malos trust this Kratos, Lloyd will too. For this, at least.

Kratos lifts his head and they make eye contact. Lloyd breaks it.

(Eventually, he thinks. Eventually, Lloyd will be able to trust him. But not right now, and he feels guilty at how he's judging this Kratos, but. But.)

Kratos talks to him. Getting used to actually hearing his voice anywhere other than in his memories will take a bit, Lloyd discovers, given the way he blinks at being talked to directly, but he does pay attention. The idea of giving up watch in favor of sleeping is laughably bad, in Lloyd's opinion, but Kratos wouldn't know the extent of his issues. So he just shakes his head, sends him a civil, closed-mouth smile in responds.

"Nah, I'm alright. Wouldn't sleep well tonight anyways," he clears his throat a little, content on leaving it at that, but. There's a note of concern in Kratos' voice, and it's so reminiscent of the few times his own Kratos would talk to him when he couldn't sleep, and the words drag themselves from his throat. "Thanks, though. I appreciate the offer."

Lloyd pauses when Kratos apologizes, averting his gaze to the half-carved block in his hands. Guilt eats up at any remaining anger because Lloyd really did yell at someone who was having a noticeably terrible time. Of course Kratos would be distressed, Martel and Colette are in those cannons. Hell, even Lloyd is distressed about it, and he's not even from this world, but that's Colette -

Don't think about it, Lloyd. Nothing you can do from here, as weak as you are. Focus on the situation on hand.

"It's… fine. Apologize to Zelos, not me. Sorry I yelled at you like I did," Lloyd replies, stubbornly refusing eye contact. "You were hurting. I could have been nicer about it."

Silence reigns for a few moments, before Lloyd opens his mouth again. If they're gonna travel together, he might as well make sure Kratos knows what boundaries not to cross. "And, uh. You didn't know, so it's - whatever. But don't use the word 'cannon' around Zelos. Don't directly mention it at all, if you can avoid it. It freaks him out and sends him spiraling."

Lloyd says he likely wouldn't sleep well tonight, and Kratos laughs, lightly. He's still concerned, knowing that humans need more sleep than blades, but... he needs more sleep than blades, too, so it looks like he and Lloyd are just going to make bad decisions together. "Of course," he says, in response to Lloyd's thanks. "Likely, I will not be sleeping tonight either, so it only made sense."

He finds himself watching Lloyd as he sits, watching his-son-who-is-not-his-son, starved to know how the boy has grown. (Where is his Lloyd, he wonders. Just another question to ask Anna, when she wakes.) (He tries to push down his anger. Now is not the place for it.) It's strange, to see so much of himself in the boy, and so much of Anna. Stranger still, that there's someone else under those layers, someone else who helped shape his child, someone in the way he phrases his words, someone that Kratos does not recognize. Kratos tries not to think about it. What Lloyd's saying is more important.

Apologizing to Zelos is next on the agenda, when Zelos is awake, but insisting he had already planned on that will just make him look like a tool, so Kratos merely hums in agreement. Then, Lloyd's not looking to see it, but Kratos shakes his head when Lloyd apologizes. "It's quite alright," he says. "It is difficult to be kind when you're upset. I do not blame you."

And then Lloyd mentions the thing about cannons, and Kratos squeezes his eyes shut, despair roaring briefly in his core. What has Zelos been through, that the word alone...?

"Noted," Kratos whispers, though it's hard to find his voice amidst his horror. "I'll be more careful, in the future. Thank you. For telling me."

Edited 2019-06-13 16:41 (UTC)

Breathing out a quiet, "no problem," Lloyd fights the way the quiet makes him anxious. Mindlessly, he begins bouncing his leg, unused to being with this Kratos at all, let alone by themselves. He grips his carving tools again, begins whittling down the thick base of the wooden blocks where the blade will be carved, and tries to ignore the way the silence wraps around the both of them, less awkward and more hesitant, tense. It's annoyingly present, and it's setting Lloyd more on edge than he'd like to be.

He needs to break this silence or he will go mad.

"I, uh. I'm from an alternate dimension," Lloyd says, desperate for some sort of subject change that doesn't revolve around any of the horrors of the day. "In case you were wondering. Malos and Anna didn't know how I was here when the Lloyd in this world is only eight."

There's a moment where Lloyd wonders what happened that made this Kratos leave his Lloyd - was it like Anna, where she made the choice to? But why weren't Anna and Kratos together to begin with? Nothing seems to much match up, and it's not Lloyd's business to know, but his heart goes out to this world's reflection of him. Even with Dirk being the fucking best dad he could have asked for, knowing you were left behind by your parents is always tough. At least he had the closure of knowing his mom didn't have a choice in leaving him…

(Don't think about your Kratos.)

Lloyd sighs quietly again, and puts down a whittling tool in favor of a sheet of sandpaper, rubbing it down the side of the block, smoothing out some rough edges. "Also explains how I was in Meltokio when this world's me is in Iselia," he mutters, the same sort of depressive weight hanging on his shoulders as it always is when he thinks about his parents. He shakes his head, forces another small smile onto his face, and finally looks back up at Kratos. "Nice to meet you. Sad it wasn't under better circumstances, though."

Kratos should reply with a nice to meet you, or comment on the alternate dimension thing, either of those; but he hears Lloyd say this world's me is in Iselia and forgets everything else, voice lodged in his throat. He fumbles for a second, finally managing to get out: "What's he doing in Iselia!? Has he been there this whole time? Did Anna know--"

Stop, stop, stop. That's not fair to Lloyd. Kratos bites down his anger, and since in the height of the moment he'd turned his whole body to face Lloyd completely, he swings his body back. Doesn't look at Lloyd. Tries to breathe. Once he's pretty sure his voice is going to come out normal (which takes some time) he speaks.

"Sorry. It's not you I'm mad at." Take a deep breath again, Kratos, just in case. He tightens his hands, fists pressed into his knees. "I just." He's not quite sure what to say. He laughs, bitter, short and helpless. "I cannot believe my son is alive and no one thought to tell me. Five years, and I could have been with him this whole time...."

(If Anna were not clearly sleeping off an injury, he would have woken her by now to ask, because honestly? What the fuck.)

Lloyd flinches at Kratos' sudden angry tone, a desperate need to flee flashing through his instincts, and he be begins to lean away, deciding to fly instead of fight this time. By the time Kratos controls himself, Lloyd's scooped up his tools and shoved them back into his pockets. It's irrational, getting this set-off by Kratos, but.

Lloyd supposes he never did see his father get this vehemently angry before, huh. (He wonders what his father was like, really, without the weight of Cruxis and everything else on his shoulders. Lloyd wishes he was worth sticking around for.)

And then Kratos is explaining himself, the sudden surge of fury, and - something resembling confusion and horrified realization mix in Lloyd's mind, as he realizes just why this Kratos hasn't seen Lloyd.

"Y-you thought I - he was dead?" Lloyd asks, eyes widening as he puts a gloved hand to his forehead, breathing out a shaky laugh. "God, Anna, you fucked it. You fucked it so bad."

Dragging his hand down his face, he turns to face Kratos, looking as upset as Lloyd feels. Five fucking years without his parents, huh? One of which, at least, who had no idea he was alive. Who would have wanted him.

(The fact that this world's Kratos wants to be with his son doesn't escape Lloyd, and for a second, there is hurt. Hurt that his Kratos didn't want to stay with him. But then he remembers this world's Lloyd is bright, young and innocent and not his uncle's killer. And he remembers why he doesn't deserve to feel hurt.)

"Iselia is where I was raised," Lloyd says, instead of dwelling on that more. "Anna doesn't actually know where he is - I say Iselia because this world is a pretty weirdly specific reflection of mine, and… yeah. But it's still just my bet on where he'd be."

He scoffs. All of the ways he's forgiven Anna for leaving her Lloyd seem to have corroded with this new information. This world's Lloyd could have been raised by his father, who wanted him, but she denied him that. "She doesn't know where her son is, and she didn't tell you he was alive. Great track record there, ma."

Kratos puts his head in his hands and doesn't move for a long moment, trying to wrestle down all of his anger and hurt, you don't need to unpack it now with Lloyd, that's not fair to him, even if he seems happy to do it. Breathe, Kratos. Just breathe. When he lifts his head from his hands again, his eyes fall on Anna, and he very delibrately turns away from her, angling his body so he doesn't have to see her. Architect, this is a nightmare. He should be happy she's alive, and yet...

"Of course I thought he was dead," Kratos says, just so he can talk about something else, something that's... still complicated, but at least doesn't scare him as much. "I thought- thought Anna was dead, too."

(Saying her name still hurts, grief that hasn't healed eating at his soul. She's alive so it should all be fine but wounds like that do not simply go away. And even if she is not dead to grieve, there remains shattered pieces of a once-healthy relationship and-- maybe it's too soon, to call that dead. He wants to talk to her. He's terrified of talking to her. Terrified of what they had changing but it's already changed, hasn't it? He's in a boat with no way to steer, just letting the rapids carry him ever towards an impending, unavoidable drop.

Needing to save Martel doesn't scare him nearly as much as the conversation he needs to have with Anna.)

"There was... an incident, five years back. Her town was obliterated. Hit by a cannon." Kratos swallows. Stares at trembling hands. "You don't... survive that. I suppose she and Lloyd must not have been in town at the time, but. I didn't think to look. I assumed if they were alive, she would have told me."

She didn't tell him. Why didn't she tell him?

Kratos realizes himself, abruptly. Why did he bother saying all that? He wishes he were literally anywhere else right now, the consequences of this conversation and the weight of the conversation he's waiting for too much to bear. Maybe he should just go--

(Running away from your problems, again? Anna's voice scolds, in the back of his mind, and well what were YOU doing he shoots back at it, furious.)

"Sorry," he says, belatedly, to Lloyd. "Sorry I. Suppose you didn't need to know all that."

He squeezes his hands together, tight. Changes the subject. "I hope you're right. I hope Lloyd is in Iselia. I hope he's safe."

Lloyd listens silently as Kratos explains his reasoning on why he thought Anna and his Lloyd were dead for the past five years, and from what Lloyd knows about this world, it all checks out. There's a moment where he's left wondering about the survival rates of being hit by a cannon, but then he thinks about how the warning shot fucked them up from inside the mines, and thinks yeah, there's no way someone could survive that.

Until he remembers something. A simple, friendly spar turned PTSD trigger, Malos struggling to keep himself together in the face of Zelos's fiery orange ether. It's not his fault, Malos had said, and Zelos is an Aegis, used to power…

Oh.

Oh.

Lloyd is going to set fire to the whole of Tethe'alla's government.

The realizations that Anna and Malos had been hit by the cannon, at least semi-directly enough to be traumatized by it, and that Zelos had been used to power the shot, wrack through Lloyd's mind. Anna's entire village had been obliterated, apparently, but they still survived. It's not even like Lloyd can do anything with this knowledge right now, given that every associated party is asleep. What the fuck is this world even.

"No, no," Lloyd says, looking away, squinting into the forest in thought. "You're alright, I… I don't know how they survived it, but. I can guarantee Anna and Malos were caught in that cannon blast. If I were to guess, the ether overuse scars have something to do with it?"

He does look back at Kratos, though, face softening up into something akin to understanding and sympathy. "I believe you. That you would have looked for them had you known. Cannon hit or not, Anna should have told you," he pauses, scoffing again. "Should have at least found her fucking son."

And then Lloyd hesitates, because bringing up his adoptive father around his alternate dimension's self's real one may be a little awkward, but he decides to go for it anyways. "If it makes you feel any better, if he's in Iselia, he's definitely with Dirk, who's my adoptive father in my world. He's the best, honestly. Your son's in good hands."

Not knowing how else to comfort this Kratos (or any Kratos, really. Not like he ever got too close to his), Lloyd hesitates before bringing his hand up to place on Kratos' shoulder.

Edited (Typos F) 2019-06-14 16:20 (UTC)

Kratos squints in confusion at Lloyd as he claims Anna just survived an Aegis cannon blast, then turns to look at his wife before he can think better of it, eyes tracing the spiderweb of scars that trail up her right arm. "That's..." impossible, but he doesn't finish, figuring that if Lloyd had a clearer answer Lloyd would have told him, so he swallows his astonishment and confusion instead. It's just another question he'll have to ask Anna. He turns away from her again.

(He could probably piece it together if he thought about it, but he doesn't want to think about it right now. Thinking about her making his core hurt.)

...knowing that his Lloyd is with Dirk is a small comfort. He knows Dirk, vaguely. Not someone he spent a lot of time with, but someone he knows Anna trusts, and that's better than a stranger. And Lloyd speaks highly him. That's also something. It's still hard to trust a human with his son, trust that Dirk even still has his son when no one-- Not even Anna!-- knows for certain, but--

His thoughts are derailed as Lloyd moves to touch him.

His reflexes are quick, though, and maybe it startles Lloyd, but twisting and catching Lloyd by the wrist before Lloyd's hand meets his shoulder is still the safer outcome, Kratos thinks. If he's in control of the situation, he isn't going to spiral. He takes a slow breath. Pushes Lloyd's hand away. Lets go.

"Please do not touch me without my consent," he requests, quietly. "It's... nothing against you, I promise. It's just." The line between being honest about his boundaries without being totally bare about his trauma is still one he finds difficult to navigate. "Triggers bad memories, sometimes, if I am not expecting it," he settles on. He sends Lloyd a tired smile, mustering all the gentleness he has in him (easy enough, for his son). "You didn't know, so I am not upset, but... please ask first, next time."

That taken care of, he tries to put his thoughts about everything else into words.

"Thank you for telling me about Dirk," he says, still quiet. "I still hope you are correct, about my son being with him, but... At least that is a name I know."

Cold panic stabs at his core as soon as Kratos grabs his wrist and twists, an instinctual flinch causing him to bite his tongue. It's - it's so irrational, the fear that grips at Lloyd's heart, because on one hand, he'd rather Kratos be honest about it, about his triggers and touch aversion, and the guy looks so softhearted about this it makes Lloyd feel bad, conscious of how his pulse spikes. But on the other hand…

Damn it, get your shit together, Lloyd. Quietly taking a deep breath and rolling his now-free wrist, Lloyd scoots away just a little more, needing the distance now. It's embarrassing. This is embarrassing. "Yeah, I understand. Noted, Captain," he jokes, forcing his gaze up to the stars. This isn't his world, this isn't his Kratos. Kratos was just - trying to keep controlled. And Lloyd understands, doesn't blame him, would rather this happen than didn't, but.

Whatever.

"Dirk's a real good guy. Taught me all I know," Lloyd continues, but his heart's not in it. He keeps thinking about fighting his other father, the one who decided to forego their standard sword-fighting to pull him by the wrist into a melee combo that landed him with a concussion and three cracked ribs. Will Lloyd ever be able to put their fucked up relationship to rest?

How is he supposed to deal with the sudden realization that he's scared of his father?

Kratos goes silent, watching Lloyd closely. It's easy enough to tell that Lloyd's mood has just nose-dived.

"It... really is alright, Lloyd," he says, slowly. "I'm not upset..."

But then he really notices Lloyd's movements, the way Lloyd scoots away from him, the way Lloyd rolls his wrist. Eye-catching, because Kratos has done it before himself. A reminder that he is free to move as he pleases... Oh.

Oh.

"I'm sorry for grabbing you suddenly," Kratos says, swallowing around the cold lump of despair in his throat. Of course, he had no way of knowing, but he still feels terrible. "I will do my best to avoid that in the future."

And... he feels bad, putting Lloyd on the spot, but if there's anything Anna has taught him, it's that it's better to be as clear as possible as soon as possible what is and isn't allowed.

"Is it touching that's a problem, or grabbing? Though I will avoid both, if you need me to. And if you are uncomfortable answering, that is alright, but... I do not wish to hurt you, especially not because I am ignorant of your boundaries."

rar write shorter tags challenge

No never I love them

they're wonderful???

I'M GLAD YOU THINK SO BC HERE'S ANOTHER

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

EVERYBODY KNOWS SHITS FUCKED

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looks like the long tags just aren't going away--

thank u for my life

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TIMESKIP HEAVEN NOW??

TIMESKIP HEAVEN NOW

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kratos gets heav(ier) on main

listen he's valid, lloyd's in a perpetual state of anger

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