[Open] Just another product of today

[bloodypath]

Who: Hubert and many others
When: 4/13
Where: Mirror Dreamland
What: Event memory sharing
Warnings: Patricide; others added as needed


Within the dream-like hall of mirrors, one particular mirror frame was carved from ebony; anyone that's even seen or knew Hubert's name would be able to see the double-headed eagle of the Adrestian Empire on it. Those who were acquainted would notice the dozen cloaked figures bearing daggers up and down the frame. Only his Bonded and Byleth would see that all of its set on a backdrop like a rising sun, the distant forms of soaring birds along the top of the mirror.

The mirror's owner, however, was seemingly absent. Whether by curiosity or compulsion, touch the rippling glass and be pulled inside.

A. Patricide
"'Contemptible' is just the right word for the wretch."

The doors don't slam open in the majestic, red-draped hallway, but there's nothing subtle about the about the dozen people marching through them at a fast clip. Most of them are hooded and masked in the robes of mages, and a couple are armored and carry lances; at their head is Hubert, wearing a dust-covered riding cloak and looking like he's hardly even stopped to sleep in his hurry.

Hubert's almost always wearing some sort of intense expression, but there was something particularly forceful about the look in his eye; almost like a stalking predator toeing the line between patience and frenzy.

"My lord," one of the masked figures mumbles, keeping pace half a step behind, "should we not be more caut—"

"He knows we're here. He's known the moment we set foot in Enbarr." Dream-Hubert's voice is knifelike. His eyes narrow, and for a second, a smile twitches onto his lips—it's an utterly malicious expression, halfway between excitement and hatred—before it smooths out to something almost pleasant. "He knows why. I daresay my father's expecting us. Now..."

Dream-Hubert holds out his hand. The masked mage places a small flask in his palm. "Let us give him his rightful dues."

He doesn't open the next set of doors at the end of the hallway forcefully, either, but there's still something about it like a shark smelling blood.

B. Runaway
"Of course, I was only ten. I never would have reached Fhirdiad..."

It's dark—even those normally unhindered find themselves in darkness again. The waxing moon, while bright, only does so much to illuminate the woods, reducing everything to dark shapes of trees and gnarled roots and rocks lit only by the occasional splash of silver light. An unpleasant—but survivable—chill hangs in the air promising the coming of winter. As still as the woods are, they're not silent; there's indistinct shouting in the distance and the the muffle clanking of armored individuals moving en masse, and the faint barking of a dog.

"This way!" One shout rises above the others, just on the edge of hearing. "Fan out! I want squads watching the river!"

In the gloom, a dark figure darts through the woods—and stumbles over a root when he looks over his shoulder back towards the noise. The child's barely manages to keep his footing, breathing hard; he crouches in the shadow of a tree to catch his breath. There's a training bow in his hand and a pack slung across his back; even in the dimly lit memory, it's easy to tell he and his clothes are covered in dirt and scrapes.

"Have you ever watched the world end?" Hubert's—the man's—low voice rumbles from behind. The dream-world doesn't acknowledge it. "Have you ever lost faith? It's the same thing."

[Hubert will be along in prompt A after the first tag unless requested otherwise. I am absolutely willing to do other memories! Let me know what kind of thing you'd like, or something else if you're canon familiar.]

Comments

[islandhuntress]

[One day, between the two of us, you will be choosing me.

My... that was... bold. Even for her. She feels her cheeks warm slightly and wonders if she's blushing.

Petra all but ignores what Hubert says. Of course, he still hates her, this her, the real her, and he has every right to. But it doesn't quell her fascination with this other life that was never to be.]

Were you choosing me? The me you know? [Now she's even more curious and just as blunt, prying into something very personal that didn't technically involve her... but did at the same time. It doesn't feel like she's asking about herself though, it feels like she's asking about this stranger she's watching now and how her life unfolded.]

[bloodypath]

[It was difficult to tell which was the most insulting part: Petra's repeated and blatant disregard of him, or that question. For a second, in his indignation, words fail Hubert.]

[This impostor dared to sound enchanted by scene, as if it were a thought to entertain.]

Do you ever stop spewing filth? You have the audacity to question my choices, after the one you've made? I owe you nothing.

[In truth, Hubert couldn't answer even if he were inclined. The mirrors has pulled him from Fhirdiad's torched bones in the wake of the final battle, his clothes still reeking of smoke and blood at the time. There had been no time to even have a such a choice.]

[islandhuntress]

[Of course her smile falters at that, sighing. She wouldn't stoop to that level. There was no reason to forego civility. Part of her somewhat understood it. Hubert was hurt and here they were seeing a private moment, one her very existence spat in the face of.]

I am not wanting to know to judge. I am only having curiosity. [She speaks quietly, reasonable and measured.] But you are correct. You are owing me nothing. I am not forcing answers from you. I would not.

[She gives him a nod.]

I do have curiosity- I am curious what the differences we have. What was making her choose one path and me another...

[bloodypath]

[Hubert pondered that question a lot, and ones like it, ever since discovering the divergence among those from their world. There seemed to be one common crux among it all, an uncomfortable variable that made him question the significance of their agency.]

[He didn't want to think about it.]

Is it truly that much of a mystery to you? You disappoint me.

[No, he had to get it together. He wasn't in control, hasn't been since he'd realized the truth about this Petra. It wasn't like him to be spurned on by emotion. And yet... every time he opened his mouth, anger seized his tongue.]

She chose to remain beside those that pledged to support her. She chose to usurp the imbalance between nobility and commoner that carved suffering into Fódlan's very bones. She chose to empower Brigid rather than make it a target.

[Hubert didn't know what he would have chosen.]

[islandhuntress]

I was also choosing to remain beside those that pledged to support me... [She speaks quietly as if that might make it easier for him to swallow.

She makes the mistake of glancing toward Hubert and immediately regrets it, feeling a pang of guilt, not for her choice or her curiosity but because she wishes they could have this conversation without him feeling hurt or angry. It's difficult to continue to remind herself that they're on opposite sides of this. Where she is gaining something, learning about something she didn't have in her world but maybe could have, a different path, Hubert was losing something in meeting her.]

It is a mystery... I am not seeing any difference between us... Except that I am knowing you better. And I was choosing differently. But those are both... ends, they are both results. They are not causes.

[bloodypath]

[Hubert didn't just lose something from this twist of fate; it was like a fracture in a foundation, the blow branching out through the stone into smaller and smaller fissures. His shattered trust in Petra cast out a great shadow over his allies, too.]

[Over his own potential, too, if he let his thoughts dwell too much.]

And that is our impasse. Your willful ignorance of the significance of your choice is astounding.

[No. Stop. What purpose did this conversation serve? What was he trying to accomplish? Hubert, originally, had never expected the Black Eagles to stay, as much as he'd hoped. Had he be spoiled so much by their support in his world he could no longer entertain his original expectation? Maybe their realities were a reflection of that.]

[Reason didn't make it hurt less.]

This is pointless. As long as you stand against Her Majesty, the difference—[He says it like a sneer, like it's inconsequential. It needs to be.]—holds no meaning.

[He sweeps an arm around at the empty scene, meaning the mirror.] Pry all you like. It changes nothing. Whatever information you find will be useless.

[islandhuntress]

[Petra shoots him a pointed look. Maybe he didn't care why she chose to follow Claude in one world and Edelgard in another but she did. It confuses her. What minute differences had led to her picking one way and not another? Especially when it came to such a, as Hubert had called it, significant choice. The way she'd chosen could very well lead to her death, or the death of her friends, and it certainly altered the course her life would take. She isn't denying any of that, she's just trying to understand what had driven her one way and not the other.] No. You are not listening.

I am already knowing the significance of my decision but I am wanting to know why she and I were choosing differently.

[Petra should probably be annoyed at Hubert, but instead it only makes her more determined to figure all this out.]

It holds a meaning for me. [She crosses her arms, looking him.] If you were making such different choices, would you not want to be knowing why? [She's ready for his likely response, a flippant claim that he wouldn't make a different choice but how could he know? If they could ask the other Petra, wouldn't she make the same claim?]

[bloodypath]

[Hubert does not disappoint her.]

I would make no such choices, [he hisses, eyes narrowing and fists clenching.] I know my path—I've known for years. I've long given my being and my soul to it.

[(But he has started wondering, what if, that little traitorous voice whispering every time he saw Byleth, what if there was a time you didn't stand with Edelgard? Endless variables. Endless possibilities. Each and every one seemingly hinging upon one crux—and those were just the ones he knew. Was there a history where he lost himself to the pull of dark magic? One where he and Edelgard abandoned their ambitions? One where their enemies in the shadows replaced or (the very thought threatened to violently turn his stomach) recruited him?)]

[It's never been so comforting that the alternate individuals Hubert's met here regard him like something dangerous. Like an enemy. Like a very extension of Edelgard herself. No matter the differences in their histories, each assumed him to be at her side.]

[That's quite possibly the only reassurance that's stopped him from going mad.]

If you want that answer, find it yourself. Clearly I don't know your mind half as well as I thought. [No. Not Petra. Just a stranger that looked like her. It's just the slightest twitch of his face, barely perceptible, that signals that Hubert was aware of his stumble. Even if she were the Petra he knew, Hubert would still be of no help in answering. Could anyone aside from her even say why?]

[Calm down. This was only playing to her advantage.]

[islandhuntress]

Yes, your goal would not be changing... neither has mine. But the path getting there, there are probably many.

[At her core, she's the same, her goal is the same, but the circumstances and opportunities and information she'd had were maybe the factors that led to a different choice. It's something the others don't want to seem to want to accept. But the woman in the memory in the mirror hadn't looked or acted or sounded any different.]

Yet. [She corrects him, though what she means might not be entirely clear. She offers him a soft smile.] It was looking like you were starting to have understanding. Maybe you will be knowing my mind more with time.

[Even when she says 'my', she's still referring to the Petra in Hubert's memory, the one he knew. It's difficult to imagine her as an entirely different person, separate from herself but she's trying to. Hubert and Edelgard seem to find the whole thing more bearable that way.]

But you speak truth. I do not have certainty that you would be knowing. [She knows she tends to keep her feelings and troubling thoughts to herself.]

I am knowing you would not have been choosing to show me this... but I am having- I am grateful that I could be seeing it.

[bloodypath]

[His eyes narrow and jaw clenches at that cocky yet. Petra still treated this lightly. Acted like witnessing his memory was a gift...]

[What arrogance. How dare she.]

Do not challenge me carelessly, [Hubert warns. How else could he understand 'knowing her mind?' Not as an offer or an invitation, but in the sense of coming to understand an enemy and their workings as something to manipulate?]

[Huber turns around, preparing to stalk off.]

Observe all you want. It will do you no good here.

[Because clearly, clearly, Petra would leverage something in the mirror against him. He couldn't accept this senseless curiosity for what it was. His memories could do quite a bit of harm, if she knew where to look, but as long as they remained away from their respective armies it wouldn't do any good yet.]