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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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.

Mithos can just... Do that? Close off the port or whatever? Irritation flashes across Lloyd's eyes as he realizes that all of this could have been avoided had Mithos remembered to do that from the start, but. He lets it go, knowing that there's no use crying over spilled milk. At least this won't happen again, not without it being deliberate on either of their sides, and Lloyd can't really find it in him to try and get more than minimally angry at Mithos right now, not with him looking as much like a guilty kid as he does.

"Thanks," Lloyd says, as Mithos explains what he plans on doing. "I appreciate it." And then, with a bitter laugh and a hand dragging itself through his fringe, he adds, "to be honest, I doubt you wanna see most of my dreams, anyways."

Too real, Lloyd, too real. So he plops his palms down on the ground behind them, leans back on them, trying to appear more casual than he really is. "Kratos had his own reasons for everything he did. It's water under the bridge, and I've forgiven him for it all already. Don't sweat it."

"Even if he had his reasons, certainly there were ways to be- he could've been kinder..." Mithos grumbles out, still shaken to his core.

But, enough of that.

Mithos takes a deep breath. Does his best to push it all to the side, for now. He wants nothing more than to wake up and go find his Kratos, get a reminder of gentle touches and kind eyes, but it would be rude to leave Lloyd here alone, and a disservice to everything the dreamspace is to let this be Lloyd's only interaction with it. So, Mithos gets to his feet. A distraction, a breath of fresh air-- that'll do instead, for the moment.

The dreamspace shifts, gentle but all at once. Night becomes day, as brilliant and blue as Mithos' core crystal. A few anxious clouds still linger, but the sun shines brightly in defiance past them. Grass and campfire becomes a sandy beach, an ocean spread out before them, waves lapping gently at the shore about twenty paces away.

"It's really not so bad, the dreamspace," he says again, voice soft and fond. "It's--" He remembers he said it was difficult to control, has to find words that won't contradict that. "It's easy, sometimes, for nightmares to take over, but on good nights... I mean, you can do whatever you want, here. Visit wherever you want. It's just a dream, but..."

It's also the only taste of freedom that he had, for those years that Tethe'alla held him captive. It was probably the only reason he stayed sane.

"I like it here," he says, instead of telling Lloyd that. "It's fun to play around where you don't have to worry about gravity. Or physics. Or getting hurt." He laughs a little. "Maybe that's silly."

Edited 2019-09-23 03:53 (UTC)

Hey, that's... Pretty neat, actually. Lloyd leans back on his arms as he watches the dreamscape change, following the sky but looking down as the dirt underneath his palms changes, becoming sand instead. Though he's never really been the beach type per se, the sun feels warm against his skin, somehow, and the sound of the waves are calm and relaxing. When he closes his eyes, it almost feels like he's back at Altamira, playing volleyball with Genis and Colette, having ice cream with Sheena, racing Z -

Lloyd cuts the thought off, shaking his head, and pays attention to what Mithos has to say instead. There's something a little odd in how Mithos muses about the dreamscape, both open and not at all, pausing at random intervals - something tells Lloyd that Mithos has more he'd like to say, but doesn't know how to go about it. So Lloyd drops it, because that's not really his business to ask, anyways. But.

"I don't think that's silly," Lloyd says, shrugging. He stands up, dusting the sand off his hands, and turns to face Mithos. "In fact, if I could do something like this, I wouldn't ever wanna wake up. Anything you can think of, in the palm of your hand. Hmmmm..."

Trailing off, Lloyd has an idea come to mind. He holds out his arms, closing his eyes, and when he opens them again, it's to weight in his hands. A platter of chocolate chip cookies, just like Dirk used to make, back before the reunion of Aselia, back when they didn't have the ability to celebrate birthdays with cakes that were too much to make. Lloyd used to beg for them for days before his birthday - the day Dirk found him, really, since they weren't sure of his actual birthday - and it's with a fond smile that he takes a cookie, still soft and melty, and bites into it.

Just like Dirk used to make.

Lloyd holds out the platter to Mithos. "Take one, they're pretty fantastic!"

"Uh," Mithos says, and hesitates. After... the mess this night has been up until right now, that was kind of the last thing he was expecting. What.

What...

"Okay," Mithos says, finally. He crosses the distance between himself and Lloyd, hesitantly picking a cookie up off the plate. It's still warm, though that's unsurprising, seeing as it's a dream and all. He can't... remember the last time he had a cookie, actually. Probably before--

The dreamspace flickers for a brief moment, weighed down by Mithos' guilt. He pushes it aside quickly, wrenches the dreamspace back into submission, and tries not to think about it. Tries not to think about Anna. Tries not to think about Kratos, moving through his days on autopilot, moving as if he had nothing to live for anymore.

(He's a horrible person, isn't he?)

"Thanks," Mithos says, hoping Lloyd doesn't notice, or at least doesn't ask. His voice is noticeably less bright, his smile weighted down. But he takes a bite of his cookie as he sits down next to Lloyd, and it's... good. Like taking a bite of home. "They are really good," he tells Lloyd, and then he says nothing else.

And they sit in silence until they wake up.

Edited 2019-09-24 03:33 (UTC)

After that whole mess Zelos, for the most part, keeps to himself.

Mithos struck a cord of discordance in Zelos' carefully adapted and tuned mind. He cannot help being tense and restless, but he can avoid being a burden as their travel group presses on and makes distance with Tethe'alla, steadily on their way to the border. Zelos doesn't voice it, tries his damn hardest to ignore it and hide it, but the Aegis' words and presence are like nails digging into his skin, the constant discomfort a reminder of that day under the rain no matter how much time passes.

In his avoidance of it, Zelos tries to play along; he doesn't cause any scenes, doesn't bother anyone outside of normal interaction, feeds neutrality into the emotional link. He keeps quiet at night and offers to take watch more often than not, seeking to be alone with his own thoughts when he's not playing a mental game of chess in his conversations with the others, steering everything away from his mental state. His nerves right now are much like a viper, anyway; coiled and ready to attack if anyone dares come close.

He just needs time, he guesses. Enough time to ignore this and go back to normal, whatever normal even is for someone like him.

Ah.

Time passes, and soon enough the closest Sylvaranti-Tethe'allan border checkpoint comes into view. Though Zelos is uncomfortable with the decision to come here, he bites his tongue and decides not to argue against it; it's logical, anyway, that they'd want to save as much time as possible by pressing onward to Sylvarant, and trying to avoid a checkpoint with their current trajectory will only double the time spent. So, he's just gonna have to sit down and let the humans handle this.

The plan is simple, at first glance: keep the Aegises out of sight, and meanwhile, let Kratos, Anna, and Sheena walk in to provide a distraction and incapacitate the humans inside while guiding everyone else through to avoid detection. Quick entry and exit without any stops.

Simple. Easy.

Fast.

Which is exactly why Zelos' anxiety spikes in his chest when the emotional bleed between him and Sheena goes from taut and busy to completely slack.

The Aegis abruptly rises from where he's sitting, dread pooling in his core as he approaches the only person here he'd trust to understand him--the only other blade in their group whose driver isn't here. "Ah, Malos?" Zelos asks once he's close enough, voice steady, but carrying an open look of concern on his face. He then points at his own core crystal, saying nothing else.

Edited 2019-09-25 17:54 (UTC)

Malos, actually, is doing somewhat worse than Zelos is right now. He's still trying to breathe around the lingering second of blinding panic that hit the emotion bleed like a train, and though that has ebbed to the quiet, gaping void of unconsciousness from both Anna and Kratos, he's pretty sure that's worse. Nevermind the fact that whatever the hell drugs just knocked Anna out are also affecting him, at least marginally.

"Yeah, uh," Malos says to Zelos, who looks worried and rightly so. Guess that's all three of them who got-- captured? Hopefully just that. It doesn't feel like Anna's in pain at least. "Yeah I can say pretty confidently that things just went. Way south on their end. It's not just you feeling that."

Malos swallows. Takes a deep breath. It's-- fine. It's fine. He knows where Anna is. The general direction, anyway. They can fix this.

"What's going on?" Mithos demands, walking up to insert himself into the conversation. Malos sighs, but lets the kid have this. He's got every right to be worried, too.

"Pretty sure the rest of our party just got captured," Malos says.

"What?" Mithos says, quiet, fearful. "No." And then his tone gets distrustful, eyes accusing. "How can you be sure?"

"Well, it feels like they just got sedated," Malos explains, and to his surprise Mithos recoils with immediate horror.

"Kratos too?" he asks, voice tight, kind of high.

Malos nods. Even with Anna unconscious, he's pretty sure he'd still be feeling something from Kratos, and since he isn't, Kratos must be unconscious, too.

"That's- no. Fuck." Mithos rakes a hand through his hair, then immediately turns on his heel and starts heading in the general direction of their family. "We have to hurry," he declares.

"I mean, of course the plan is to rescue them!" Malos calls after Mithos, turning to send a worried glance at Zelos, then one at Lloyd. "Shouldn't we think it through just a little, though? I'm not against heading in there guns blazing and all, but--"

"The last thing Kratos needs is to be caged again," Mithos interjects, firm and clear. "I'm getting him out of there." And then he keeps walking. (Belatedly, that mountain-moving, soul-petrifying panic from earlier is starting to make sense, even if all Malos has is a vague idea of what Kratos has been through.)

"Well," Malos says, slowly, turning again to Zelos, then Lloyd. "I'm gonna assume you two don't have any objections...?"

Even before the full force of horror and concern slams into Lloyd like a wave during high-tide, Lloyd's standing with his hands around the hilts of his swords, following in Mithos' direction to get answers about the sudden reactions from Zelos and Malos. All he has to hear, really, is that the rest of the party got captured before Lloyd's poised and ready to run in and take some fuckers down, but the knowledge that they're sedated and likely tied up brings anger to the surface of a deep level of concern. He knows all of them can take care of themselves, but without even being conscious -

Lloyd follows after Mithos, content to storm in guns blazing, because how dare these kidnappers take not only his parents, but his sister, he's gonna knock some heads together or he'll die trying. "Let's go," he says to Malos, face more serious than ever, the tinny drum of worry and fury backing up the strong beat of his heart. Determination furrows his brow and makes it clear he's gonna give someone a hell of a fight.

(Silently, and without much thought expended in favor of focusing on the coming rescue, Lloyd takes note of "the last thing Kratos needs is to be caged again.")

The situation is dire, sure, and a panicked part of Zelos' mind rattles against his core like a desperate, caged bird, but there's no need to act rashly just yet. Sheena getting kidnapped is already a red flag that harshly tugs at his blade instincts, but it won't take long until the humans realize they've taken a flesh eater and blade eater along as well instead of any other good catch. And even if they could kill Sheena to get at him, since they don't know exactly where the Aegis' core crystal would end up, that'd be completely pointless. Most likely, then, the three of them will be used for ransom. There's not a whole lot of time to waste, but they have time.

That in mind, Zelos takes a few deep breaths while Mithos and Malos argue, trying to calm himself, but then ends up cursing under his breath when the Aegis and his driver walk off on the way to the checkpoint.

No, no-- Damn idiots-- what the hell! They need to plan this out at least a little, lest they too fall victims to these humans! Mithos specifically!

Zelos is just about to let himself give in and walk off behind them when he remembers a very, very important little detail everyone else has completely discarded.

Frustration is a good motivator to make this right. Hands balled into fists, Zelos walks over to Malos. He does his best to ignore the way his own panic echoes and bounces on its own without Sheena's input, expression carefully hidden behind a mask of determination. "You mentioned drugs," the Aegis says to the blade, eyeing him up and down. With Lloyd and Mithos stuck in an idiot feedback loop as they are, they really need to hurry now, but-- "How bad will the side effects be for you? Are you able to walk right now?"

It takes Malos a second to realize that everyone's just walking anyway, and then a second more to realize Zelos is talking to him.

"'M," he begins, blinking the haze out of his mind. He reaches over and flicks himself in the forearm, the pain just enough to be grounding. "Fine," he says. "'m fine. I can walk, at least. Just gonna be a little... sluggish. Won't slow y'all down, promise."

He grins, shakily. "Thanks for worrying about me, though, 'preciate it."

His smile gets a little sharper. Guns blazing is the plan, then? Alright. Time to show Slyvarant what happens when they mess with his daughter.

"Let's go."

Sheena comes to consciousness slowly, the drug still not having quite worked its way through her system. For a minute she just lies there, unable to piece together how she'd gotten to wherever this is or why her body won't quite cooperate when she tries to get up. But then it clicks, the memory of something stinging and sharp sinking into her thigh and then everything going dark, and she curses softly, fighting against the sluggishness in her limbs to sit up, at least, if not to get to her feet.

"Anna? Kratos?" she calls as she pushes herself into a sitting position, squinting out of her cell. She... thinks that's Kratos, in the cell across from her, and that might be Anna, but she can't tell if either of them are awake. Well. Still, you don't throw corpses into cells. That's good.

Alright, she needs to take stock of her own end of things. Not tied up, so there have to be guards, even if she can't see them from here. The weight of her knife in its pocket is gone, and she's sure her smoke bombs won't be there either when she checks, but whoever had searched her hadn't realized her cards are deadlier than the knife ever could have been. No notable injuries, but of course they'd want her alive, at least for now. So long as they don't have Zelos they need her. Speaking of--

She reaches for her bond with him like she should have done the second she woke up, sending - something across it. It's not the clearest, since there's only so much you can express with emotion, but hopefully Zelos will be able to get from the restrained worry-but-not-panic and the inquisitiveness she pushes towards the link that she's more concerned about him than herself. He's okay, right? She's sure she wouldn't even be alive to worry if they had captured him, but there's still a wide gulf between "not captured" and "fine."

Okay, so, waking up in jail? Not even remotely ideal. But Anna's done this a million times before, so she's fine. She's fine.

Except then she remembers what exactly got them here, and the brief but overwhelming panic that had drowned her as it flooded the emotion bleed up until the point Kratos stopped being awake to feel it. Fuck. Kratos.

Anna's eyes shoot open. She's still laying flat on her stomach, one cheek pressed to the cold floor of the cell. She doesn't move just yet, too distracted by her thoughts and her worry. The emotion bleed... feels alright? Maybe Kratos just isn't conscious y--

wait.

wait wait wait oh fuck wait, fuck.

She can't feel Kratos at all.

Is he dead? Architect, don't let him be dead. He can't- he can't he can't he can't be--

"Kratos!?" she calls out, panicked and her throat tight, as she pushes herself upright. She swings her attention around the room, looking, please, let this be some fluke-- There! On the exact opposite end of the hall, three other cells between them, he's there. Anna breathes a sigh of relief, because he's alive, even if... "Kratos...?" she calls again, more hesitant, concerned.

He's still on the floor, looking much like he hasn't moved an inch, his back to her and slumped on his side. She'd assume he was still unconscious, if only she couldn't hear him hyperventilating.

"Kratos, it's fine, we're gonna get out," Anna says, rapidly. "They aren't- they aren't going to hurt you. You know that. It'll be fine."

Silence, but that's to be expected. Of course getting locked up was going to send Kratos spiralling. He probably has bad associations with getting sedated, too. The only thing they can do is get him out of here.

Anna finally drags her eyes away from him, attention landing on Sheena in the cell across from him. She sends Sheena a shaky smile, tight with both concern and anger. Things were going so good until they weren't. "How you doing, Sheena? Hanging in there?"

She takes stock of the cell in the meantime. Small, no bed-- probably meant for short-term holding. Bars obviously aren't far enough apart to slip through, and they're plastic, besides. So, even if Kratos was coherent enough to try something destructive, it wouldn't work. Anna also has no fucking clue how to tell if the lock is pickable, never mind how to pick it even if it was. One of these days she really needs to learn how to do that. For now, though:

"You, uh, got any ideas?" she calls to Sheena, after a moment. "Because I've got about zero. I mean, waiting to get rescued is a valid option but uh..." She hesitates, eyes darting towards Kratos again. He's moved just enough to curl up on himself, and even from here she can tell he's trembling. "Well, the sooner we're out of here, the better.

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WHAT'S UP I DIED AGAIN

revives you

HI GUESS WHO DIDN'T REALIZE IT WAS MY TURN

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(thor voice) IS IT THO?

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

he's valid

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WE WERE SUPPOSED TO BE SPEEDRUNNING THE TIMESKIP AND YET

EVERYTHING IS FINE

NO ITS NOT

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TIME TO SKIP ALONG

EVERYTHING WENT TO FUCK AGAIN

WHEN DOES IT NOT THO

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