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.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Okay, answers, he's getting answers, he wanted answers, but.

Did she say Anna? Like, Kratos' Anna. Annoying human Anna. The Anna he tried to kill, Anna. Since the fuck when was she alive?! And here? Shit. He should probably be happy about that, actually, because he'd kind of regretted it, regretted how much her absence had stolen the life from Kratos again, but-- is he a horrible person for kind of wishing she was still dead? Shit shit shit, don't think about that, Mithos, don't let it grace the emotion bleed.

"Yeah, I guess I can just resonate with Kratos when he shows up, that's fine," Mithos says all sharp and bitter, with half a mind to hunt Kratos down now except actually Kratos had good reason to not take Mithos into town, Mithos does not want to be around that many humans, he does not want them to know he exists in such close proximity to them. "It'll probably take me another three days to reconfigure everything, but that's fine, that's fucking fine."

Mithos hates this.

Even with the cover provided by the trees, by this point Mithos' hair is wet enough it's starting to get plastered to his face, and he hates that, too.

And then the emotion bleed stops, and he forgets about being angry entirely. He rounds on LLoyd, face painted with surprise and sharp curiosity.

"How did you do that," he demands. "How did you-- only Father's ever-- The emotion bleed shouldn't just stop like that." He takes one step closer to Lloyd, peering, trying to study an answer out of Lloyd's face, out of the ether gathered around him. Hard to say if it's a trick to the ether or not. "How is it-- it's not stifled, I'm just getting nothing from you!"

Following the source of that ether pull, Zelos runs through the short distance between himself and his driver, rapidly pinging her with his concern and getting back flashes of dread. An idea of what the fuck just went down here is already formulating itself in Zelos' mind, one that he desperately hopes is and isn't true, his conflicting emotions much more difficult to discern as Sheena's shock bounces in their link.

And when he gets back to camp, when he takes in the bright boy bathed in blue light from a few days ago in that hill, Zelos' own shock crashes with Sheena's and stops him in his tracks.

Lloyd and Sheena stand in front of an agitated Mithos, his shouts loud even in the cacophony of the rain. It makes Zelos shudder. Violet eyes scan scene, widening. The newly awakened Aegis--this real Aegis--stands as tall and proud as a boy like him can, all gathered ether and threats, all power aching for release resonating with the ambient ether and with the one circulating through Zelos' veins. For all the power it holds, though, Zelos feels nothing else pulling within or contaminating his resonance with Sheena, so the idea of his driver gaining a new blade is quickly crossed off the list. But the only remaining human here is...

Oh. Oh no.

Oh, Lloyd. What the fuck have you done?

"Hey there, fellow Aegis," Zelos calls out, hands held up in a peace gesture, expression as flat as he can possibly keep it. He then breaks it with a smirk, something playful to dissipate this dreadful tension in the air. "You chose some bad weather to wake up in, but. Good morning."

Edited 2019-08-21 16:53 (UTC)

Taking a step back as Mithos rounds on him, Lloyd mentally curses the fucking emotional bleed and everything it stands for, already feeling invaded in several ways, including the fact that the reflection of the uncle he murdered is currently getting in his face about his emotional blockage. Lloyd keeps his face blank, thankful for the fact that it's not hard to do with said block in place, as his mind races to find a way to answer Mithos' questions - demands, really - without giving away too much information. It's fine. Lloyd just has to deal with this until Kratos gets back, and then hopefully Mithos will resonate with him and forget about Lloyd.

Something escapes Mithos and spikes Lloyd's awareness, though. "How did you-- only Father's ever-" The Aegis says, and Lloyd pieces together from the mythos - hah - he's heard so far that Mithos' father must be the Architect. It's not surprising that this world's Origin can control his own emotional input, but. It's quite weird to hear that he shares a power with the Architect, as it stands.

Whatever. It doesn't matter right now. What does matter is that Mithos is expecting an answer and Lloyd doesn't have an excuse not to answer, even though he knows Sheena will kick his ass later for relying on his mana blocks as he is. So Lloyd opens his mouth, hesitates, and prepares to answer at least part of Mithos' inquisitions with half-truths.

And then Zelos shows up, and the relief Lloyd can't really feel is logically palpable enough that he knows it'd be there if he could feel it. Grasping onto Zelos' sudden appearance as a distraction, he places a smile on his face and waves at him. "Hey, Zelos! Brought an umbrella with you, by chance?"

Even if he can't feel any of Lloyd's emotions, Mithos can see Lloyd hesitate, try and get out of giving an answer, and maybe it shouldn't matter, maybe he shouldn't fucking care about the human that's driving him, but--

Zelos interjects, and Mithos almost hates him for it. That's-- That's not fair, though. Bastard Aegis or not, Zelos is an Aegis, and Mithos supposes the least he can do is be polite to Zelos if no one else. He takes a shaky, inperceptible breath through his nose to steady himself. They're complaining about the weather. The weather, as if that's the most important thing here! Mithos wants to say something sharp and biting, wants to draw all attention back to himself, but you know what? They're right. Fuck the rain, actually.

Huffing, he pushes wet hair out of his face. "Don't need one," he says to Lloyd. "Clearly, none of you know what an Aegis is."

Mithos raises two fingers to the sky, arm straight above his head. Inhale. Exhale. Find his connection to the core of this planet, to reality around them. He draws one small circle in the air, and then a second circle, slightly larger. He pauses here, just to be certain his calculations are correct, but it takes only a millisecond to double check them. Calculations complete, he drags his arm down in an arc, back to his side.

And just like that, the rain stops.

There's a perfect circle around them, about ten metres, where the sky is suddenly blue and the sun is shining. Outside of the circle, it is still raining.

He gives them a moment to take that in, a moment which he spends drying his hair by amplifying sunlight between his fingers, and running his hand through wet strands until they are no longer wet, which only takes a few sweeps.

"There," he says, then turns to Zelos. "You could have done that too, you know."

Zelos's concern cuts through the mess of what she's feeling, leaving her a little more space to think. She manages a little bit of reassurance - something even vaguer than usual, still dwarfed by the sea of otherwise negative emotion - but by that point he's within sight anyway.

So of course Mithos picks that moment to start interrogating Lloyd about the emotional link. Sheena winces at the realization of what he must have just done, kind of wants to step between Lloyd and Mithos, but that might just make things worse. Instead, she places a hand on his shoulder, a little comfortingly, a little protectively. She can't blame him for it - not when he's just resonated with Mithos - but she still hates the fact that he's had to resort to locking his emotions away wholesale. She should've realized what it was he was sensing quicker.

Either way, before she can beat herself up about it, Zelos is here, distracting Mithos, and she's never been more grateful for it. She shoots him a quick smile for it, before Mithos speaks again, and--

Sheena tenses as he he traces out a pattern in the air around him, but his actual plans are. Well. That's pretty impressive. It's one thing to know that Aegises hold enough power to rival the summon spirits' and another to see Mithos use it so casually and so dramatically.

'Clearly, none of you know what an Aegis is,' Mithos says, right before he raises his hand to the sky and manipulates the ether around all five of them to create a large enough shield to protect them from the rain. The shock at the sight, at the power emanating from the shield, bounces off the walls of Zelos' core crystal and reverberates through his veins, his bones, sinking his pride and shackling it at the bottom of his soul.

Mithos even goes the extra mile after that, using even more ether to dry his own hair while everyone else's remains wet with rainfall. Subconsciously, the mortification and shame that peel off the bouncing shock in Zelos' chest adhere themselves to his core, and the ether around the bastard Aegis warms considerably as his cheeks burn. Because, clearly, Zelos doesn't know what an Aegis is if he has to be told about all this stuff, either. And who says he can even do it anyway? He's an artificial. A replacement. It's not like humans ever actually managed to replicate divine power with their very own hands, or else everything would've been much, much more different.

He wasn't even supposed to exist in the first place.

Abruptly cutting off the emotional bleed, Zelos offers Mithos a grin, laughs, tilts his head from side to side as he raises both hands in a calculated shrug that's supposed to read as lazy and unbothered. His face is softened, his stance friendly, and his voice lowers to something slightly tired and playful. It's a disguise where there would only be a mask, something that guards a wounded ego and stands in place of an identity that evaporates as some drops of rain dry off Zelos' shoulders.

"Sorry, man. I guess I was just too distracted by your awakening to think too much on it," comes the half lie, half truth spilling from smiling lips. "An Aegis awakening is kind of top priority. You know how it is."

Edited 2019-08-25 21:13 (UTC)

"Sure," Mithos says to Zelos, but he's somewhat wary. He knows masks, he knows lies, he knows how to people please as well as anyone else. You don't survive, if you're an Aegis, and humanity hates you-- and knowing how to butter them up is just as useful as making sure they know that you can cut them down with the slightest effort.

And he knows-- the bastard Aegises, the artificials created by human hands. They've been held in human hands for a long time, haven't they? Humanity has been using them for threats and persuasion, but they've never let the artificials do anything, they've never...

Oh.

That's it, huh?

"You have... no idea, do you?" Mithos asks, his tone much gentler than it had been before. The edges of it are still sharp, and he laughs a tight little tired laugh as he turns away from Lloyd and steps towards Zelos. "There's no way they would have told you, would have let you discover what you're capable of, because humans only care about our power when it's useful to them." He smiles, off-kilter, the smile of a boy well used to righteous fury and at the end of his patience for those testing it. "They make me sick, humans do. Just imagine how much they've held you back."

Edited 2019-08-25 22:48 (UTC)

Mithos stepping towards him already throws Zelos off, and he instinctively takes a step back as the other Aegis approaches him. But that gentle tone, that laugh, the things he's saying--they're like little nails digging into Zelos' skin, tensing him, hurting him, freezing the warmth on his cheeks as he goes pale.

And after that fear settles in, that's when the ashamed anger rises in its wake.

Because how dare Mithos speak to him like that. How dare he put Zelos in the spotlight, how dare he point out all the ways that they're different, the ways that he's mediocre in the presence of a real, full-fledged Aegis like Mithos is. Even if, at the center of it all, Mithos is right--it's the humans' fault he's this way, underdeveloped, outshined by the naturally divine. His anger is misdirected and through it Zelos' expression finally breaks into a glare, his hands clenching into fists to his sides as Mithos talks, and talks, and talks and talks, backing Zelos into a literal and metaphorical corner until something snaps and he finally digs his heels in and pushes back.

A growl, low in his throat. "No one's held me back," Zelos spits, his voice much stronger and more stable than he'd thought possible given the mess of emotions raging in his core. It is still a whisper, though, a private exchange between Aegises as he glares at the boy that's pried so deeply into Zelos' thoughts without a fucking care in the world. "I am what I am. I do not change."

That's rich. Mithos chuckles to himself, not paying much mind to Zelos' anger. Mithos is right, and that's not going to change regardless of how much Zelos protests about it, so he can go on protesting if he likes.

Mithos really wishes Zelos wouldn't discredit his own power, though.

"You are what humans made you," Mithos tells him, gentle, his voice soft if not necessarily quiet. "But that's not your fault. And now that you're free, nothing's stopping you from finding out what you really are."

This is going to shit very fast, Lloyd realizes, eyes wide as the confrontation between Aegises escalates. For all of his worrying about how Mithos was going to interact with the rest of the party, he hadn't thought the first scuffle would be with his fellow blade, but life has a habit of throwing Lloyd for a loop like that. Zelos looks like a cornered animal, tense and angry as he is, and Mithos has the same sort of satisfied righteousness in his mannerisms that Lloyd's seen in his alternate many times over, the same kind that would send panic through his veins were he able to feel it.

Something tells him he needs to step in, needs to defuse this ticking timebomb of an argument before either of them says anything everyone will regret - yeah, it'd totally suck seeing Zelos and Mithos actually fight, but that's just ignoring the fact that they're both Aegises with extraordinary power. Things could take a turn for the worse, and nobody would be able to stop them, really. Lloyd takes a step forward, ready to break up the fight, but hesitates, something coming to mind:

I'm human - if I stop them from talking about this, am I being unfair? Am I going to remind them of their old handlers?

He looks back at Zelos, looks at Mithos, and makes up his mind. Even if he is being unfair at this moment, even if Mithos takes this time to claim that Lloyd is just being an awful driver - Zelos looks like he needs a breather. And in Lloyd's mind, Zelos is his friend before he's the Aegis. This discussion can be had later. Mithos will just need to understand that.

Stepping in between them, facing Mithos, Lloyd schools his features into something stern, but not threatening. "Knock it off, Mithos. That's not how you approach people about these things. Not about stuff this personal. And - at the very least, we need to get along for now. All of us."

Edited 2019-08-25 23:48 (UTC)

Mithos leans back from Lloyd as he steps between him and Zelos, and then his tired smile becomes a full glare as he processes what's going on and what Lloyd just said. Who gave him the right!?

(And why does Mithos care! Ugh, he forgot how much he hated having a driver.)

"I'm only saying what he needed to hear," Mithos spits. "And you're one to talk!!" He pushes Lloyd back for emphasis. "We need to get along?" he mocks back. "Says the guy who won't even tell me what he did to the emotion bleed--! Hey!"

And just like that, Malos grabs Mithos by the back of his cape and hoists him off the ground, moving him away from Lloyd.

"A'ight, that's enough of that," Malos says.

Mithos nearly loses it, indignant and offended and briefly powerless as he is, but then Malos lets go and deposits Mithos on the ground. Mithos sticks the landing fine, but he's furious and glares up at the hulking excuse for a blade towering over him. He notices immediately that half of the core crystal is missing, guesses where the other half probably is. Disgusting. Is this Anna's blade? He hates her all the more.

"Excuse you!" Mithos spits.

"Don't need you shoving my grandson," Malos says, and Mithos' lips curl. Even worse!. "Lloyd's right, anyway-- We're all working towards the same goal."

Malos doesn't say that goal explicitly, but Mithos shudders at the reminder, anyway. Martel is in a cannon, and Mithos is here picking petty fights! His stomach churns, and he bites that down, fixes upon his face a mask of anger.

"How long until Kratos gets back?"

"Probably not 'til the rain lets up," Malos answers. There's something about his answer, something exasperated, a little knowing-- something like he's not telling the full truth. "Can't have our supplies getting wet."

Mithos glares, but unfortunately there's logic in that. And it's not like he can stop the rain for the entire town, not without expending a lot of power, and certainly not without telegraphing his location to every blade within the sphere of changed weather. So.

"Fine," Mithos says, folds his arms across his chest, and plops himself down on a rock to sit. "Then I'll wait."

(He tries not to think about Anna.)

Okay. Fuck. Sheena is incredibly grateful that Malos is here to prevent this situation from getting any worse than it already is, that he steps in before she can do more than open her mouth to say something she would have regretted to Mithos for getting into Lloyd's face like that. But, alright. They just have to get through this until the rain eases, and Kratos and Anna can make it back.

The emotional bleed is thick and heavy in her veins, enough to make it very obvious Zelos isn't doing so hot as if she couldn't see it already, and she turns her attention fully to him, reaching out to pat his shoulder gently in a way that would be very easy for him to avoid if he doesn't want it.

"Hey," she says, into the awkward silence that falls over them. "Want to come double check the camp border again with me? If anybody's actually out in this weather, they might notice something's up." The circle of perfectly clear weather seems like it'd be difficult to miss, at least, to say nothing about the elevated ether levels that Mithos is putting out. "Lloyd?" Zelos needs the distraction more, she thinks, but she doesn't really want to leave him alone either.

Honestly, even if Sheena hadn't suggested leaving, Zelos was just about ready to turn on his heel already anyway. He doesn't want to be here. Doesn't want to talk to anyone, to be near anyone--much less a human. And Mithos is all fuzzy energy and petulance, and with the storm in his core still brewing like the clapping thunder outside of their shield, all Zelos wants is time to regroup the broken pieces of his mask.

Unfortunately, his driver makes the wrong call by touching him while he's tense and personally fuming about every single way humanity made him, an inferior being, pretend to be something he isn't, but at the very least Zelos manages to hide the hiccup and smile gently for Sheena as he regards her.

So he shrugs, nonchalant. "Sure. Right behind you," Zelos says, light. And then he waits. There's no energy in him for anything else, anyway.

Lloyd doesn't flinch when Mithos shoves him, stands tall even as he backs up a foot, and even though he can't feel the irritation he knows would otherwise plague him, the immediate push him back! urge is there, infectious. Still, he grits his teeth, praying for just a moment that Mithos will be cooperative until Kratos arrives and can take back resonance with capability that Lloyd does not have.

Shoving a weak grin onto his face when Malos picks the Aegis up isn't hard, at least, happy that he was able to shut up another one of Mithos' demanding complaints and his attempts to escalate the situation. Still, Lloyd begins to recognize his need to be alone and away from Mithos quickly - less emotionally driven, moreso just tired, a lack of both a plan and any sort of feelings leading to an emptiness in his head that's inherently uncomfortable. Lloyd needs Kratos to come back so he can drop the emotional barrier, and he needs to take a moment to decide what to do with himself until then. The invasiveness of the resonance continues to drive him mad, unfamiliar as he is about just how it works, how far it goes, and for how long he'll have to deal with it.

Sighing under his breath, he perks up to attention when Sheena calls his name. Honestly, he'd love to go with her, but. Zelos needs some space, Lloyd thinks, and he can't give him that if he tags along.

(There's a small, nagging paranoia that the moment Lloyd turns his back on Mithos, Mithos will become too far gone to hope for. He pointedly ignores it.)

"I'm alright, you guys go on ahead," Lloyd responds, sending Sheena something of a stronger smile. "I'm probably gonna stitch up my coat a little and wait for Kratos and Anna to get back. Stay safe though, both of you."

Edited 2019-09-01 04:08 (UTC)

Zelos and Sheena move away from camp. Lloyd works on stitching up his coat as promised and ignoring Mithos, all while the emotion bleed remains infuriatingly absent. Mithos tells himself it doesn't matter. Kratos will be here soon, and everything will be fine.

It's not that easy.

"Hey, Mithos," Malos says, and Mithos looks up from where he's sitting to shoot a glare at the blade.

"What do you want?"

"Look, I know you're busy sulking, so I'll make this quick," Malos says, and Mithos sneers, boiling with how much he fucking hates this. He's about to tell Malos to go fuck himself just because he doesn't want to talk to anyone right now, but then-- "Can flesh eaters resonate with humans?" Malos asks.

Mithos blinks. "What? No. Of course not. That's the whole deal about being a flesh eater. You don't need anyone to drive you."

"Right, right." Malos nods, like he'd been expecting that answer. "But, uh... We quite sure they can't? It's absolutely, definitely impossible?"

What the... "Why are you asking?" Mithos asks.

Malos hesitates, breathing deep before he answers, like maybe he's reconsidering who he's talking to and why he brought it up. Still: "I think Anna resonated with Kratos."

Horror slams into Mithos like a train. He rounds on Malos, legs pulled up under him so he's on his knees, kneeling on this rock he was already sitting on in part to get height, in part just because he's bursting with anxious energy and cannot bear to sit still. "That's impossible," he says, icy. He wonders if Lloyd is listening. He wonders if Lloyd cares.

"Well the resonance link sure just got a plus one, and I highly doubt Anna resonated with a new blade, especially considering this emotion bleed..." Malos makes a face, and Mithos thinks about that for just long enough to realize he really doesn't want to be thinking about it. "Guess we'll find out when they get back. Just wanted to ask." He waves a parting to Mithos in lieu of saying goodbye, then plops himself under a tree to sit, back to the trunk. Mithos scowls at him, then returns to scowling at the horizon.

It doesn't matter. It's impossible, it can't have happened. But what if it did? What does he do then?

The rain is starting to let up. Mithos lets his power recede from the area, stubborn sunlight giving way to clouds again.

He doesn't have an answer he likes by the time Kratos and Anna return.

And they return, bags of supplies slung over their shoulders and walking hand in hand. Kratos laughs at something Anna said and it's-- it's not a loud laugh, or anything, but it's a laugh, and Mithos can't really remember the last time he saw Kratos laugh. A part of him screams with jealousy and anger because they should be closer to be saving Martel right now, and instead Kratos is taking his time, dwaddling with some human. But. That's not fair, and Mithos knows this. Kratos is happy. The least he could do is not shit all over it again.

By this point Kratos has noticed him, and Mithos shoves all his angry feelings down so he can at least get to his feet and hug his brother. Kratos seems somewhat startled, but happy to see him, and holds Mithos tight when Mithos throws his arms around Kratos' waist and buries his head in his brother's chest.

"Hello Mithos," Kratos says, and then: "Sorry, if I'd known you'd be ready this soon, I would have..."

"No, it's fine, I got impatient," Mithos argues. Kratos doesn't need to blame himself for this. Or at all, really. Mithos is the only one at fault, here. For everything.

"Who's..." Kratos begins, then pauses like he's answered his own question. "Lloyd's driving you, isn't he?"

"Mmhmm."

"Right," Kratos says.

And then there's this pause. And it goes on forever. Mithos pulls away from Kratos, cocks his head at him in question, understanding and frustration building up in his core as he starts to put the pieces together. Kratos looks to Anna. She sends him a look back that's... Mithos can't read it at all, and that makes him angry, and he understands that it's really dumb that it's making him angry, and.

"Mithos," Kratos says, and Mithos digs his fingernails into his palms and tries not to breathe like he's going to explode. "I don't know if you still want me to drive you, but... You need to know that. Um." He swallows. Blushes, just a little. "I... resonated with Anna, somehow? So I..."

Mithos was expecting it, but it's still like a kick to the gut. He staggers a step back, turns away and bites his tongue as he wrestles down the storm inside him. He has no right to be mad. Maybe it's better this way. Underneath the anger and the distrust and the hate swirls an endless sea of guilt guilt guilt guilt guilt guilt guilt and he doesn't want Kratos knowing about that, doesn't want to have to tell Kratos why it's there, and--

"Mithos," Kratos begins.

"It's fine," Mithos says. He does not have the energy to lift his head up, doesn't have the energy to smile. "It's-- fine. Really. It would have taken me three days to reconfigure, anyway, and Lloyd's already driving me--"

"I'm not saying I can't," Kratos argues.

"No offense but I really don't want to be a part of that emotion bleed," Mithos spits in return. "Lloyd's already driving me. It's fine."

"If it's fine with Lloyd, that is," Anna interjects, somewhat sharp. "And if it's not, then... Well I don't know if we can stop resonating, Kratos, but... I'm okay with that, if we have to."

"Anna..." Kratos begins.

She shrugs. "I'd hate to stop, but if Lloyd doesn't wnat to be in resonance with Mithos, and Mithos doesn't want to be in resonance with me..." She sighs. "Their comfort is more important than... I mean Kratos we've managed this long without it. So if I don't mind... if you don't mind?"

"Well," Kratos says, and Mithos isn't fucking deaf. He can hear very well that Kratos does mind.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. (Never mind that, to be honest, Mithos isn't sure you can just choose to stop resonating with someone, either!) Maybe- Maybe he could get used to that emotion bleed, maybe he could get used to Anna, but the problems there involve 1) introducing his own hatred and distrust of her to the emotion bleed to the first place 2) letting them potentially feel this sea of guilt he is desperately trying not to drown in. So.

"No, I won't ask you to do that," Mithos insists. "Let me. Let me ask Lloyd."

He makes his way over to Lloyd, hopes that Lloyd was listening, because-- it's not like they were that far away, and they weren't trying to be quiet or anything. Also it would be easier if he didn't have to try and articulate to anyone why he's making this decision.

Architect. Him. Willingly being driven by a human. This is the worst.

"Well, Lloyd?" Mithos ask. "What do you think?"

Edited 2019-09-08 00:24 (UTC)

The world does not provide enough distraction to keep Lloyd's emotionless mind occupied, it seems. He stitches up his jacket deliberately slowly, taking care to make the stitches evenly distanced from each other, and once that's finished, he polishes both of his blades, carves out the edges of a new woodblock, doing anything that leaves him focused enough to ignore how his lack of emotions and the lack of a defined plan drives him mad. At the very least, Lloyd waits for Kratos, avoiding even looking in Mithos' direction until the reflection of his father returns to claim the Aegis.

Passively, he wonders if Kratos really did resonate with Anna, as he overheard Malos tell Mithos. Lloyd doesn't know nearly enough about the blade system and how it works to make a proper guess on if Kratos could, but he also doesn't care enough about the system to want to know the specifics. As it stands, the concept of resonance leaves a bad taste in Lloyd's mouth, invasive and uncomfortable and a portal to his soul he never wanted open. Lloyd shifts, placing the woodblock on his jacket on the ground next to him and bringing his knees to his chest, resting his arms and then his chin on them. The emotionlessness leaves him without the quaking anxiety and terror he knows he would otherwise have, but the weightlessness of wakefulness without feeling is an unwanted temptation. He wants this resonance gone and he wants himself back.

Kratos eventually returns with Anna, both of them holding hands and smiling and laughing, and it's... really nice, actually. Lloyd smiles instinctively at the sight, taking in the sight of this reflection of his parents, of how happy they are, of what his actual parents might have looked like before they were ripped apart. He never thought he'd ever get to see this, and now that he is, he can't help but absorb it with a sort of bittersweet knowledge that what he gets here, on this world, will never again happen on his own. Anna has long since been gone, and Kratos left, too. For all intents and purposes, Lloyd would be an orphan would it not be for Dirk.

Lloyd misses the beginning of Kratos' conversation with Mithos, the little distance between them and Lloyd acting as a buffer, but he catches his name and amplifies his hearing just enough to be able to hear them better. When Anna brings up the choice of resonance being on Lloyd's shoulders, Lloyd bites at his lip, knowing that usually, a sense of appreciation would follow, but unable to think of anything past the pressure this has put on him. Truthfully, he doesn't want anything more than to dump this resonance, but.

Kratos and Anna look so happy. Those are the looks of two people in love reunited, and they're so happy, and he wants them to stay that way. To have the kind of togetherness his parents lost, the same kind he trashed. And Mithos.

Mithos deserves to stay alive, with a driver that cares for him, with a driver he picked.

So Lloyd licks at his dry lips. "Yeah," he breathes out, standing, flashing Mithos a thumbs-up and a smile, "yeah, I can stay your driver. It's fine with me."

Lloyd doesn't seem enthusiastic, but Mithos can't say he is about this whole ordeal, either. Honestly, maybe it's better Lloyd isn't excited. Means Lloyd isn't looking to use him. A driver who wants nothing to do with him is better than one who wants to use him, he thinks.

"Are you sure, Lloyd?" Anna presses, with a no-nonsense concern that immediately fills Mithos' core with anger. Can't she just stay out of this!?

(He will not punch Kratos' wife while he is standing right there, he will not, she didn't even do anything to deserve it!)

"He said he was fine with it," Mithos grumbles, and Anna shoots him a glare like death before returning her attention to her son.

Turning a little and directing his attention to Anna, Lloyd sends her a smile too, one that's closed-mouth and a little more accepting rather than excited. "It'll be alright, mom. He needs a driver, and you and Kratos should stay together if you want to."

Lloyd grabs his discarded jacket and shoves it back on, wanting more than needing the comfort he knows it'd otherwise bring. "Besides, maybe it's best if we don't overload y'all's resonance. I dunno, that just seems like it'd be complicated after a bit."

Edited 2019-09-12 19:51 (UTC)

Anna makes a face like maybe she isn't convinced, but she lets it go. Thank fuck. Mithos looks at Lloyd, wondering if he should try and make this more bearable for the both of them... Maybe he should, actually. He bites his lip and groans a little, short and low so that no one notices except maybe Kratos.

"Hey, Lloyd," Mithos says, and then nods in the direction away from Kratos and Anna and Malos. He sends Kratos a look to silently ask if he'll give them privacy before he walks-- far enough to be out of earshot of anyone. It's just him and Lloyd, now.

And here comes the hard part.

Mithos huffs. Doesn't look at Lloyd. "Look. I know that this isn't really what... either of us wanted, exactly." He crosses his arms over his chest. Flashes a glance at Lloyd before looking away. "So like. I appreciate you agreeing to this. Thanks."

He scowls as he says it, hating the taste on his tongue. But. He does appreciate it, and he appreciates Lloyd not asking questions or demanding he justify his choice, because the last thing he wants to do is get into that with anyone.

At Mithos' nod, Lloyd walks away from the others, standing and crossing his arms as Mithos speaks, not tense as much as just expectant. All things considered, Lloyd doesn't know much about Mithos, how he acts when he's not completely lost in his own madness, and he doesn't quite know what Mithos expects from him. So he gives the Aegis time to put together his words, raising his brow a little at the apology.

"Don't mention it," Lloyd replies, shrugging a little, and - really, Mithos, don't mention it, the sooner Lloyd can forget this is happening the better - "you need a driver, and it's not like I have any other resonances to worry about."

Kicking his boot a little, looking down and letting it get scuffed by the dirt, he uncrosses his arms, resting a hand on his hip with a sigh. As much as he wants to let this conversation end there, there is something that needs to be said, and he intends to say it. Lloyd glances back up at Mithos, seriousness obvious on his face, in the way he straightens up his posture.

"And - hey. Listen. I'm not interested in being a driver -" pause, restate that - "well, what I mean to say is that I don't plan on using your blade or anything. Or, like, whatever drivers usually do. I can fight for myself with my own swords. Driving you is just a necessity to keep you alive, alright? You're free, otherwise. I'm not gonna try and control you or what it is you do, and if you think I am for whatever reason, just - tell me, and I'll cool it."

"Oh," Mithos says, before he can make his mouth not. He's never been one for silence, so as soon as his thoughts are most of the way in order he keeps talking: "I mean, good!" he says. "It's not like- I wouldn't have let you, anyway." It's supposed to come out haughty, but mostly it comes out flustered, because-- he is flustered. Lloyd being explicit about that is good and nice and definitely the last thing Mithos expected. Kindness from a human? Unheard of. He's kind of skeptical, kind of offended, kind of relieved even though he doesn't like being that. He keeps a tight hold on the emotion bleed even though right now he assumes Lloyd couldn't feel it anyway.

"Anyway yeah I'll make it perfectly clear if you need to stop--" Mithos says rapidly, gets caught becuase he wasn't sure how he intended to finish that, exactly. He swallows. "I think we'll be fine, Lloyd. I think this'll be fine."

Pause. Don't let the silence sink in too long.

"I'm going to talk to Kratos now," Mithos says to excuse himself from the conversation.

He doesn't quite get the chance because as soon as he's done with Lloyd, Anna pulls him aside.

"What do you want?" he snaps at her.

She smiles polite enough, but there's a clear edge in it.

"I really don't want to start a fight with you or anything," she promises. "But I want to make one thing clear: if you hurt Lloyd I will snap your neck."

Oh. Well that's more like what he'd expected from humans.

Mithos scoffs and rolls his eyes. "You'd honestly kill me?" he asks. "Yeah right."

"We both know it wouldn't be permanent for you," Anna says, her smile bright. "It just has to get Lloyd out of the resonance."

For a moment, Mithos feels fear. Then all he feels is anger. How dare she threaten him like that!? He shoves against her with all his strength-- She steps back, but does not stagger. Nor does she seem surprised or upset. Fuck her. Mithos storms off, abandoning his plans to talk to Kratos for the moment because Kratos knows him, and he'll know he's upset, and maybe Kratos should know that his wife just threatend him but!! Mithos doesn't want to open that can of worms right now because he'll just say something he's going to regret and he doesn't want to make this any worse.

Kratos finds him eventually, though. Mithos doesn't say anything when Kratos sits down next to him, but he does glance over to check... Kratos looks okay, right now, and he was holding hands with Anna earlier, so unless anything's changed...

Mithos slowly flops against Kratos' side, and Kratos laughs softly, not moving but apparently content to let Mithos use him as furniture for a moment. It's nice, really. It's only been a few weeks since Mithos saw Kratos last, but he did miss him.

"I'm sorry I couldn't drive you," Kratos says, quietly.

"It's fine," Mithos insists. "I mean, I wouldn't want to separate you and- and Anna, again."

"It wasn't your fault last time," Kratos says, and Mithos almost chokes. Guilt slides down his throat, hot and thick, wraps iron claws aroud his stomach and squeezes. "She could have told me that she was alive, but she didn't," Kratos continues, even though Mithos barely hears it. He grips at his pants, knuckles tight and white and every inch of him aching. He's so glad he's not in resonance with Kratos right now.

"Yeah, well, it would've been my fault this time," Mithos says, and then changes the subject. "How's Martel? They haven't-- Have they fired again?"

From the feel of the way Kratos shifts, he's shaking his head. "They haven't since- since we found you. Which means they only fired twice. And since Tethe'alla doesn't have the means to fire back... Perhaps they were just testing. Perhaps they won't fire again."

"You don't trust that," Mithos argues.

Kratos sighs. "I don't," he admits. "But I can hope. We..." He goes quiet for a moment, trying to sort out his thoughts. Mithos does his best not to fidget, knowing that could easly take Kratos' good day and make it a bad one. "Even if I am not driving you, we can always... go. We would be faster alone. And..."

"If we're in a group it's safe to take the train," Mithos argues. He's been thinking about this. "I think that cancels out the time we'd save if it was just the two of us traveling."

"If you're sure..." Kratos argues back, gently.

There's safety in numbers. And security has probably been tightened. And unfortunately his driver is in this group. And he doesn't want to leave Zelos, exactly, and. If Martel is not being hurt, then she can wait, just a few extra days...

"If they fire the cannon again, then we'll talk about it," Mithos decides. "But-- The only way to get to her faster would be if I flew, and I'm not. I can't go alone."

Kratos squeezes Mithos' arm, gentle and reassuring. "You won't have to," he promises.

- - -

Traveling is uneventful. Mithos mostly avoids everyone else. He's not in the mood to talk, doesn't have anything to talk about, too busy juggling his worry for Martel, his dislike for his current situation, and trying not to murder Anna. She isn't even doing anything but he hates her he hates her he hates her and when he doesn't hate her it's because guilt is choking him and frankly it's miserable all around.

It gets even worse the next time they stop to rest. Warring hatred and guilt suddenly become fear fear fear fear fear. He doesn't know where it's coming from until he realizes that the emotion bleed is suddenly open again. Anger washes over the sea of fear, fear that must be Lloyd's and--

A part of him wants to go ask Lloyd what the fuck. A part of him is worried, for a moment, except it's not the kind of fear that comes from being in danger and there's no sound, no spike in the ambient ether that would signal a threat. It's just an overwhelming dread and panic and.

Mithos sits and grits his teeth and waits it out. It does end eventually, at least. Weird. Mithos wonders if it has to do with... whatever it was Lloyd did with the emotion bleed. Did Lloyd dampen his emotions, or just postpone them? And what... caused this?

Mithos remembers that when Lloyd first resonated with him, there was dread then, too. Does that mean that whatever brought on this wave of bad emotions has something to do with Mithos...? Mithos knows Lloyd's from an alternate dimension, so maybe it has something to do with that, as well. He's worrying that problem over, (wondering how terrible an alternate Mithos must be to get Lloyd to respond like this), when all of a sudden an information packet pings for his attention. He hesitates for a long moment before accepting it, turning the ether signature accompanying it over in his mind as he examines it. Of course, seeing how he's alone, the information packet could have only come from one source. But why the hell is Father contacting him now? Why did he never deem to bother before??

He's bitter, but too curious to deny the package just because he hates his father. So he opens it.

The transmitted knowledge is recieved instantaneously, though it takes Mithos a few extra seconds to process it. The concept of-- a battle. Of Lloyd standing proud and tall against a harsh ideal. Mithos catches a glimpse of his own face, twisted by madness and grief, understands with a pit in his gut that Martel has been dead thousands of years, knows that... that somehow, some way, he had to be stopped, and Lloyd was the one who...

It doesn't make any sense.

How does Father know all this? How can Mithos be sure that any of this information is accurate!?

He could ask Lloyd, sure, but how does he open the converastion without needing to explain his Father's involvement...

There's another way, though. Perhaps not the kindest way, but it will be easy, and he can be quick about it, so Lloyd will never know. All Mithos has to do is wait until Lloyd finally sleeps, (how Lloyd goes days without sleeping, Mithos has yet to figure out, though he's starting to think Lloyd isn't human at all), and then: Mithos plunges into the dreamspace, opens the port and hooks into Lloyd's consciousness.

If he wants to go unnoticed, he has to be quick. A simple memory transfer shouldn't take more than a few seconds-- images flicker through his head and then in a sea of I didn't want this I didn't want this I didn't want this Mithos loses both grip and footing, and the dreamspace shifts suddenly and all at once, green glass and the glow of technology, room illuminated by the runes on the walls as much as the flower, the seed overhead, Martel's shape, translucent like a ghost, and it is the sight of her that makes Mithos choke. He doesn't have time to take it in before something slams into his gut and throws him back, the burning taste of ether-not-ether, pain sharp and bright. He looks up and sees-- himself, laughing, deranged and without a spark of sanity in his eyes. He is glowing and terrible, wings of rainbow unfurled behind him, and his voice echoes all around:

"I don't care about that anymore! A world for me and my sister-- that's all I wanted!! Why would you take that from me!?"

The fight won't stop it won't stop there's no end to it, no end to the tears pouring down his cheeks, he didn't want it to happen like this he is sure but he also isn't sure what is happening other than that he cannot stop it, and why did they ask him to do it, anyway. It's a weird kind of vertigo, when Mithos has coherency to his name, the action of fighting himself and also his body moving like he is not used to it moving, a sword in each hand and he must be seeing this through Lloyd's eyes. The knowledge Father sent him was right, then, but he does not know what to do with that realization, does not have the time to do more than idly make it before his brain latches onto Kratos in the memory-dream, relief that Kratos is here filling him to the brim, and he watches as Kratos rushes the other Mithos--

--and suddenly he is the other Mithos and he barely gets up a sword (that isn't his sword) to block a blow from Kratos, and he hisses because his balance is all wrong and all he can hope to do is stagger out of the way and try again but he doesn't get the chance to do that before a hand closes around his arm and yanks him until his stomach connects with a knee, forcing all air out of his lungs and his head rings with the force of another blow and why is this happening, why is Kratos hurting him--

Everything

stops

The dreamspace is engulfed with a gentle cradle of ether that Mithos has not tasted in hundreds of years, and that ether rends the dreamspace free of all shape and form. Mithos is too busy reeling from everything he just saw to really acknowledge or appreciate that his Father, the Architect is here, his vision still spinning even as nothingness takes shape again, painting the picture of a patch of dirt in a field of grass, a campfire crackling pleasantly underneath a blanket of stars above. The sight is comforting if foreign, crafted with the fondness of someone else's memories.

Mithos collapses on his hands and knees, trembling and grappling at the dirt beneath his fingers for purchase as his mind navigates the tumultuous ocean of knowledge that has just been dumped onto him.

Lloyd is here, somewhere. Of course he is. This is Lloyd's dreamspace. But Mithos does not have it in him to look up to find either Lloyd or see if his father stayed. (He did not.) Mithos just stays where he is, and he trembles, and he cries.

Edited 2019-09-16 01:08 (UTC)

The thing about Lloyd's nightmares is that they're patterned, repetitive, and most of the time, just have him deal with one fear or trauma at a time. For as unpredictable as they are in schedule, the themes and visions are usually the same five, just shuffled around and picked up whenever Lloyd's fucked up mind deems it necessary.

He's had nightmares about Mithos before. He's had nightmares about Kratos before.

He's never had this nightmare.

Bile rises in his throat as he witnesses the nightmare firsthand, sees rather than feels Mithos and Kratos take their licks at his past self, mana-heavy magic burning at his jacket and through his skin, flinching at the sound of a knee taking aim at his head. Lloyd raises a hand to instinctively touch his temple, freezing when he properly realizes he's actually here, not in his own body, watching the memory from his own eyes like he usually does. Stumbling back, his right hand slams up against the wall he collapses against, heaving a breath as the dream continues, continues, continues. Panic rushes through his hot blood, pumping through his body like adrenaline, and he shakes his head, shuts his eyes tight, trembling. What is this!? What is happening, he didn't want this, he didn't want this, didn't want any of this, didn't want to watch this fucked up lucid dream, didn't want to fight Mithos, didn't want to fight Kratos -!

The dream stops.

Lloyd doesn't open his eyes. Not even when nudged by the familiar feeling of Kratos Aurion as he knows him, not willing to see him and his cold, empty, battle-ready stare.

Lloyd doesn't dare open his eyes until the sounds of battle stop, until the tears burning behind his eyes hurt to hold back anymore, and when he blinks his eyes open, it's with an anxious body, shivering though the air is warm, the campfire doing nothing to soothe his nerves. He falls to his knees, gripping his shoulders tight enough for his nails to leave marks, keeping the shuddering breaths in his lungs for fear an upcoming attack will knock them out of his body. Blinking, he tries to take in where he is, draws a map of his position in the world with the stars as his guide. Their twinkling helps bring him back to his own body, helps him swallow down the panic and grief that lie on his tongue.

"What the fuck," Lloyd breathes out, words as shaky as his grasp on reality is. He spins around, looks for the party members, looks for Sheena, for Malos, for Anna, but finds - Mithos. Just Mithos, sobbing and curled up on himself. "Mithos? What - what the - where are we?"

Lloyd looks back down at his trembling hands. Hastily wipes hot tears streaming down his face with the back of his hands. Tries to calm his voice. "Did you - did you see all of that?"

In a moment of sympathy, Lloyd reaches out his hand, but a thought forms in his head that causes him to drop it back to his side, squinting at the crying Aegis as he does. How did this - why is it that the first time he sleeps while in resonance with Mithos, he has not only a new nightmare but wakes up in an unfamiliar place with Mithos in it, seemingly just affected as Lloyd is? As he thinks, spiraling down into his own negatively, anger spiking as he comes to the conclusion that Mithos has something to do with this, the fire behind him crackles loudly, eating the wood with a speed that tells of something coming completely out of control. "Mithos, what did you do?"

Had this been any other time, any other place, Mithos would have been fine. But. How does he get that image of Kratos out of his mind, how does he forget the pain still ringing in his skull, how does he reconcile-- It wasn't malicious, the expression in Kratos' eyes, but it wasn't automatic, either. It was deliberate, if resigned. And-- And-- Mithos knows that Kratos wasn't attacking him, he knows that he saw that memory as Lloyd would have, but-- but-- but thats worse, isn't it? Why would Kratos attack his son...!?

Lloyd's asking him a question.

Lloyd's asking him a question.

Mithos snaps his head up and stifles his sobs with a sharp inhale through his nose. Steadies his hands as best as he can. Flinches at the crackle of the fire, at the weight of Lloyd's anger and accusation. It doesn't matter. He can fix this. He aligns his thoughts, analyzes the question-- Of course Lloyd wants to know what's going on. He can explain.

"The dreamspace," he begins, balling his hands into fists and pressing them against his knees so they don't tremble, voice clear even if the rest of him is tight and shaking. "Is a place that Aegises- Aegises and their drivers can access when they sleep. A form of- of lucid dreaming." He pauses to take a breath. He still isnt 100%, but he's holding together well enough to keep explaining at least. "I-- It's been so long since I've had access to someone else's-- I forgot."

Stop for a second there, Mithos. Find words you won't regret.

He doesn't want Lloyd to get mad at him. How can he make sure Lloyd won't get mad?

"I... It's not very easy to control," Mithos says (something of a lie) with a shaky laugh he doesn't hide because maybe it will help paint him as innocent, if he doesn't hide how much this shook him, how little he wanted this specific outcome. "I- I didn't mean to-- It wasn't supposed to--"

He breaks off, still sitting on his knees, the stars overhead blotted out here and there by anxious clouds. Mithos wonders if he should apologize for invading Lloyd's privacy like this. It was supposed to take two seconds. Lloyd wasn't even supposed to know it was happening.

But then Mithos lost control. And this nightmare happened instead.

He supposes it answered his question, at least. But now he has another one. He can't stop his trembling. His ears are still ringing. Dread digs a hole in his stomach.

"Lloyd..." he says, softly, curious, terrified. "If these were your memories... why- why was- was Kratos...?"

He can't say it. Just thinking it makes him sick. He hugs himself, squeezing arms over his chest tightly for comfort.

Edited 2019-09-17 20:54 (UTC)

Annoyingly, as Lloyd watches Mithos' actions, the way he trembles and tries to make himself strong against the visions he's obviously seen, guilt starts to eat away at the anger that held itself steady in Lloyd's form, in his voice. He knows fully well that Mithos knows what he's doing, that Mithos is hundreds of years old and perfectly capable of staying out of business that isn't his, but seeing Mithos as he is now, vulnerable and shaken-up - it pulls at Lloyd's heartstrings, makes him feel bad for even raising his voice at the Aegis. Mithos looks like such a kid, like a scared kid who didn't know any better. And, well, Mithos said it wasn't his fault, that he couldn't really control it, and though doubt lingers heavily in Lloyd's mind, it's not like he can call bullshit on something he has no experience or knowledge in. (He makes it a note to ask Zelos about this later, about the dreamscape and whatever other tricks Aegises are capable of pulling.)

Really, the invasiveness of it all just pushes uncomfortable awareness that he is no longer truly alone in his head into Lloyd's attention, causes him to hard swallow and rub at his itchy eyes, and then the bridge of his nose. So he can't even have his dreams to himself, is that it? This sucks. All of this fucking sucks. Suddenly exhausted in a way Lloyd hasn't been able to physically feel in months, the fire crackling behind him tires out, flames licking at the air in a desperate attempt to raise to their previous height. Lloyd turns, sits off to the side of the campfire, trying to take in its warmth and it's comfort, staring at it in order to avoid looking at Mithos as he answers his question.

"Kratos - my Kratos - he worked for an organization called Cruxis," Lloyd starts, grabbing a stick to poke at some of the rocks at the bottom of the fire. "I wasn't raised by him. I didn't know he was even alive until last year, when I found out through -" a bitter laugh "- less than great circumstances. But, uh. Cruxis was bad. Really bad. And I ended up taking them down with the help of some friends. Kratos flipped allegiance between our party and Cruxis as was needed, and we wouldn't have been able to bring it down without him, but for a solid while, he was my enemy. He knew I was his son, and he knew that to do what was needed, he'd have to be ruthless with me. So he was."

Mithos watches Lloyd sit down, feeling Lloyd's exhaustion as much as he can see it, written in Lloyd's shoulders and the dreamspace both. The fire is barely breathing. The sky presses down from above, oppresive, stars blotted out by clouds. Some of that might be Mithos' doing, he knows, but he feels-- bad, he realizes. Guilty in ways he isn't sure how to deal with, other than to be mad about, because why should he care what Lloyd thinks? Why should he care--

Lloyd isn't just any other human, though. He's Kratos' son. From another universe. And Kratos--

Mithos swallows, tight. He keeps watching Lloyd, his stomach tied in knots, hands clenched so tight that his nails are probably leaving marks on his palms. It doesn't matter. He can choose not to feel physical pain in the dreamspace. Unfortunately there's nothing he can do about emotional turmoil.

"That's," he says, feeling incredibly ineloquent, right now. "I mean, that's." Kratos, working against Lloyd? Mithos knows Kratos loves his son, loves his family, more than anything else. Even if it was eventually for the greater good, why would-- "That's still really fucked up, though. That's- that's really--" Mithos can't get his voice to work properly, which he hates. He needs to. Stop thinking about Kratos, probably. Needs to stop thinking about seeing Kratos like that.

"Sorry," he says, instead, and normally he wouldn't but he feels like shit right now in general so it slips out. "I'll-- make sure the dream port stays closed, from here on. So we can't uh. So you won't have to." Normally his thoughts-to-mouth filter works better than this, too. "So that doesn't happen again. And you can have your dreams to yourself. It's- I mean it's fun sharing them, sometimes, but not when this happens..."

He wishes he could stop feeling so shaken up, but he cannot fathom Kratos wanting to hurt him, choosing to hurt him, so confronting that knowledge is more than he's able to stomach. It's all he can think about. He wants to stop thinking about it.

WELL SO IS MITHOS, NOW

Comes in a thousand years late w Derris Kharbucks

can i get a mocha frappe

UNIONIZE!! BOYCOTT DERRIS KHARBUCKS!!! YOU FUCKS

Derris Kharbucks is better than Cruxis Cronuts at least

BLADES UNIONIZE!!!!!!!!!!!

FUCK THE HUMANS!!!!! BLADE RIGHTS!!!!

BLADE RIGHTS!!!!!!! BLADE RIGHTS!!!!!!!!!

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

WHAT'S UP I DIED AGAIN

revives you

HI GUESS WHO DIDN'T REALIZE IT WAS MY TURN

[this _is_fine.png]

(thor voice) IS IT THO?

no but lloyd hopes if he repeats it enough it will be

he's valid

no subject

WE WERE SUPPOSED TO BE SPEEDRUNNING THE TIMESKIP AND YET

EVERYTHING IS FINE

NO ITS NOT

no subject

no subject