middaeg | open catch-all + closed prompts for August

[Divine right to rule. Mediator between humans and gods, descended from those same gods. A thousand years gone.]

[It's sounded exactly like the damned fal'Cie.]

[Her mind had avoided the association before, but as that interpretation settled into place, his dynamic manner of speaking suddenly left a shadow of Barthandalus in her mind, freezing any progression towards goodwill in her mind.]

[Granted, it was just a shadow. It could be an unfortunate coincidence, that's all; not impossible to overcome. After all, Ursula saw something good in him, didn't she? Fang's cautious to keep her face relaxed this time around, unlike that flicker at the mention of gods.]

So, what, that make you some kind of godling, yeah? Divine right to rule's a pretty bold claim.

[Yeah, recover her progression of goodwill, sure. Maybe Fang would open a daycare, too. Who was she kidding? It was even a god of sun or light or whatever.]

[But she wasn't here to antagonize him. She'd try her damnedest not to.]

[Ozymandias is unaware of her souring attitude towards him, but he knows she does not believe his words to hold any truth by speaking of his right as a "pretty bold claim." Had she not warned him earlier of her tendency to dismiss what someone like him might say as truth, that would be enough to strike a nerve and send this conversation in a very different and far more heated direction. As it is, he senses the moment it needles at him and creates space for himself to temper it by taking another drink from his cup. It is, he concludes, no fault of her own for questioning when that is in her nature.]

[He's willing to give her the benefit of the doubt that no offense is meant by it.]

My spirit is no less a God-King than I was in life, if that is what you mean to ask, but I will never know immortality as the other pharaohs.

[The noise he makes and the flicker of a smile is bitter and without mirth. It's clearly not something he prefers to think about. But Fang doesn't know, so he deigns to elaborate a little. He has to break eye contact to do so, however, raising his chin as he looks out over the crowd.]

Had my body remained in the Valley of Kings, I would have awakened within it among the gods and spent my eternal life in glorious battle against evil that threatens mankind. But it was removed long ago and so I can only be awakened as a spirit by a mage with enough skill and mana to sustain me.

[The next laugh he huffs has a little more amusement to it as he looks at her again. It is rather absurd how far he's been pulled from his long-desired immortality with the additional changes being mirrorbound has brought upon him, stripping him of even more power and place more limitations. At the very least, Chaldea provided him with the opportunity to protect humanity alongside other great and heroic figures. Here? Well.]

This place, of course, has not simplified anything as I'm sure you yourself can understand.

[Assuming she didn't walk into this place with those fairly subtle but still noticeable monstrous features.]

[Scratch sounding like a shadow of Barthandalus; that sounds like something the bloody fal'Cie would say, completely with a longing to go join Daddy God-of-Light. It made her wonder how much of his projected honor and compassion was done as a blessing, as pity, to the poor, lost humans. Besides, how far up your own ass do you have to be to believe you had the divine right to boss people around?]

[Who would ever want to call themselves a god? The more Fang learned of them, in her world, the more they showed their colors as cowards. But she was here to give this man the benefit of the doubt, as long as he wasn't dangerous. Maybe Ra was different. She had to try to believe that.]

[So Fang tries, and tries to sympathize. Her long-slumbering body was moved, once to disastrous results. That's relatable, right?]

Mm, neat story. [She says, as she gives her drink an idle swirl.] You're really not missin' much; take it from someone who's been through the whole immortality deal.

[Sip.]

[It is more than a little blasphemous for her to speak so dismissively of the afterlife, but a moment after his brow furrows it sinks in that she is not speaking of what he had been destined for. She refers to her own experience in such a way, and in doing so has made a false equivalency. Whether the comparison is intentional or not is difficult to say, but from her words and tone, it seems he cannot fault her.]

[Some relish in being a Heroic Spirit and seek to have their opportunity for the Holy Grail, while others do not. Those that do cannot truly begrudge those who do not.]

[So, although it is somewhat incomprehensible, it appears to be the same here and his expression... Well, it does not particularly soften, but any evidence of anger is replaced by curiosity but also quiet respect. If she is (or at least was) as she says and truly immortal, he cannot bring himself to truly pry despite how much he might want to know. He knows the journey to the afterlife is more dangerous for those from lower than his royal birth in his own world, but that never discouraged anyone from being prepared to seek it out once their transient sleep had begun. What could she have possibly experienced that would cause her to feel such a way towards the gift of immortality?]

You...?

[He trails off, leaving the question (or rather questions) hanging in the air between them.]

[The unspoken questions go unheard—or mostly unheard, anyway. It's clearly something that he's coveted, and she interprets that furrowed brow as shock that someone like her might have it, and a "God-King" not.]

[Fang's smile quirks up, her head tilting a tad.]

Really don't look like the oldest hag around where I'm from, do I? Think 1634 was the year I'm goin' on. History's pretty unclear in some spots.

[Her smile loses its humored edge, no longer touching her eyes.]

Been through it two different ways. Seen it another. Two of 'em rot the soul, and the other's a glorified prison that gets to be the best of the lot by not bein' as shitty as the others. A few people manage okay—but an eternity, to stew in your regrets? To have little chance at lettin' it go as the world moves on without you? That's torture—a curse.

[What she describes...]

[It seems he was right in that what once awaited him was different from what she experienced. For him, it was to be a life without suffering, to be reunited with his beloved Nefertari, and to fight in a most glorious battle. What she describes sounds nothing short of hell. Even those deemed unworthy with hearts too heavy and burdened with sin did not suffer anything close to what she describes.]

[Ozymandias does not look away from her until she has finished speaking. He is not mulling over what she has said -- that's fairly straight forward -- but he is thinking of what to say instead. She does not strike him as the sort of person who cares much for anything that could be perceived as pity, but that kind of suffering... He cannot help but feel compassion for that.]

No one should have to suffer through something like that. [When he looks at her again, his smile is slight. Kind. The look in his eyes is equally gentle. Although he knows such a look runs the risk of potentially offending her, what she (and by the sounds of it, countless others) have been through should not be ignored simply because it is uncomfortable to hear.] I know after such a long time it is likely difficult, but I hope you have been able to find some peace. Or if not, that you might one day soon.

[What he says is both not out of pity nor a platitude, but a genuine wish. Even at the risk of her finding it unbelievable.]

[Hm.]

[Fang's patient while he's silent, observing him churning the thought around in his head. It's not what she expected after his initial reaction, but more than that, she's distracted by the contents of his wish. He's right on target, realizing she wouldn't take well to pity.]

[Peace. It's a complicated notion, to her. Despite a life defined by tragedy and violence, Fang had been able to eek it out of small things, simple things, here and there. To find it in other people. To make peace with individual happenings in her life. She's been at peace, arguably in her long sleep in the pillar, but that perhaps was an oversimplification, looking back at that time in retrospect. And finding it...]

[She'd never truly be at peace until she found her way back to the Soulsong. Even then, that one unresolved event held the potential to rob it from her forever.]

[Her smile becomes wry as she lazily swirls the juice mixture in her cup.] Mm, it's a cute notion.

[Between Fang's temperamental heart and her lot in life, one of the two is always disturbing what peace she does find.]

Hate to say it, but it's not in the cards until I get back to where I'm from and take care of some unfinished business. 'sides, sometimes it's cathartic to raise a little hell.

[But peace was a lovely notion to dream about. As enduring as Fang was, as well as she bore her scars, physical and emotional both, she was not unbreakable. She was tired of being picked on by fate.]

[Her answer doesn't really surprise him. In fact, if she had said anything that indicated she knew peace by now, that would have surprised him more. That assumption has very little to do with Fang herself relative to what she described.]

[The unfinished business part, however... That catches his attention. The general consensus among all the mirrorbound is that they would like to return to their homes, but from what Fang has spoken of, it doesn't sound as though there is particularly much waiting for Fang that she would want to go back to. But that is perhaps an unfair judgment for him to make with such limited information. Hearing of only the terrible she's experienced and witnessed is not the whole sum of Fang let along her world.]

[He sets his curiosity for her unfinished business aside for now. And asks,]

And what exactly constitutes as "raising a little hell" to you?

[He smiles into his cup as he takes another sip.]

[Yeah, no, his assumptions are legit. Her world is 99% shitshow. She's just ornery and refuses to quit. ]

Things that aren't peaceful, that's for sure. [She chuckles.] Givin' ratbags what's comin' their way, undermining cults, breakin' a few rules, protectin' my own. The usual.

[Ozymandias huffs a laugh. It seems that Fang is a little rough around the edges, but overall, her heart seems to be in the right place. And there is plenty of fight still in her. All things that Ozymandias can both appreciate and admire.]

Well then, [he says, raising his cup to her.] To raising a little hell.

[Fang always had plenty of fight. According to most people that knew her, they'd probably say "too much fight." If he didn't change his opinion to that down the road, she'd be slacking on her game.]

[She smiles, the corner tilting up to dance the line between smile and smirk. Their cups clink.]

Cheers.

[And a drink. She finishes the rest of hers, settling the cup on the low wall and standing.]

Well, I ought to let you get back to dazzling the party goers. 'preciate the interesting little chat. Try not to steal the bride—or the groom, 'kay, sunshine?

[He could do without being called 'sunshine,' but he will let it stand. Just this once. Ozymandias shrugs with a laugh.]

I will make no promises.

[He sends her off with a nod though, choosing to remain by the wall for a little while longer himself. He won't have much time alone even on the fringes, so he intends to enjoy the brief reprieve as he finishes his drink.]

open catch-all + closed prompts for August

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