middaeg | (semi-open!)

She simply didn’t have children. It was known. The title gets passed down to the more ambitious, after that. It’s always been that way, she said.

[ for a little more than 120 years, for sure. but, as for foul play, eren thinks it through. ]

It didn’t seem like foul play. She lived a long life, and it was gradual.

[ well, they certainly did well in passing it to the ambitious, didn't they, with someone to mind control the city with an iron fist. it wouldn't be the first time viren's lamented a line of succession, the apparent inefficiency of it. ]

Curious [ he says, almost contemplatively ] that Morgana would limit that ambition to Dorchacht. Perhaps... it was a matter of time...?

[ viren's become aware of the irritability of his posture, forcing his shoulders to relax (though, as it's a forced gesture, it doesn't lend much to it). ]

I have heard nothing of her whereabouts, since the rebellion. [ if that is what it should be called. she'll be back, viren knows with an empathetic certainty. ] Do you--?

[ know of what may come have her, he doesn't think he needs to finish that question. ]

[ a matter of time. yes, eren huffs you that, through the nose and lifts his shoulder, dips his head in assent. that’s why he acted in his own way, of course. if morgana gained enough of a hand to spread her ways, as she already had been in aefenglom when they left for their trip— what would happen, if the dream they had would come true? what would be of them? how would they ever hope to return home to where they belong?

eren could not see the future, here. dreams come and go and give so little insight to everyone, he could only shape what he sees into a map and attempt navigation. there is something he won’t tolerate, and that was being stripped even further of his freedom.

he’s rather them than he, when it comes down to it. ]

I’ve heard some sailors talk, but it’s never anything direct. Just The Resistance holding their ground and the city being closed off. [ hm, ] Anything more than that are just stories told worse than the last.

[ rumors, that he knows are terribly fake. ]

Nor anything of that Fafnir of hers, I would guess-?

[ dorchacht was such a -- woefully disastrous situation. viren was still very much of the opinion that refocusing energies from returning home was a mistake, but if morgana had ultimately, apparently, posed enough of a danger...

well. there's a frustrated sigh, some of his tenseness leaving him with it. ]

I hope Aefenglom — the Coven here, the Parliament — hasn't forgotten so quickly. They, and "we" by extension, should be prepared.

Off limits. [ to fafnir, of course. the dragon had been by far the most guarded thing he’s seen in dorchacht. how many had tried to get close and failed? even him.

though viren has a point that eren is also not a fool to discard so soon. despite the mild tension, eren could still be seen leaning back and forth in his seat, balancing on a chair leg— ah, their entries have arrived. ]

It’d be foolish to forget, especially when their fear was always war. Can’t say the same for other mirrorbound. [ there are . . . a lot of things, happening. ] The city isn’t as closed off as they say.

Edited 2019-11-09 14:45 (UTC)

They may be... distracted, yes. Perhaps they are not accustomed to having to worry about such things, do not think it their job to do so.

[ his tone somewhat remorseful, despite the tick of irritation he feels.

that the others brought here would be so quick to dismiss the danger without ready reminders... there's a certain presumption to his thought process, that if the the other mirrorbound would forget, then he would take it as his job to remember.

maybe he would contact parliament or the coven himself. hm. he would see. ]

[ he picks up one of his utensils, settling a napkin to his lap. ]

I don't suppose there's anything else, then--? I will be happy to keep you updated on anything new I learn, if you would like.

[ eren rolls his shoulders, then, only briefly commenting i don’t blame them. there were people, and people. viren is dapper, isn’t he! eren bothers fairly little with a napkin, only keeping it at grabbing distance— utensils aren’t so much of a bother, but with some foods, it’s simply easier for him to discard use.

using his hands, it is. his tongue is on a tasting frenzy already— ]

Likewise, [ he’s milked every bit of solid info he had, already. darrus was a work in progress. ] you seem like you’ll make good use of it. [ his tail keeps, gah. smacking the table leg, or an actual leg that didn’t belong to him. he wasn’t even excited about anything, and was more the product of a leftover appendage that was too long to be subtle. eren steps on the needle tip, and drags it closer to him. ] Sorry. It’s like keeping track of an extra.

[ an extra . . . he didn’t know. not quite an arm, or a leg. he didn’t have a set of wings on his back, his arms were the only “wings” he had, so. as much as he’s okay with it, it’s not always natural. ]

[ viren's definitely seen worse table manners from his son, so he doesn't have to feel personally affronted by any of this. he -- does note something whap against his leg, which gets him audibly sliding his boot back beneath the chair. ah, so it was an... extra appendage... that hadn't made that any less startling, but it's an explanation. ]

—Right.

[ viren pauses, fork in hand, having thus far resisted touching his food. he briefly glances up to eren, who seems to have contentedly tucked into his meal. well, now seems like. not necessarily a good time to ask, but. it sure is a time, so.

he hesitates. ]

I did have something more to ask you. [ ... ] A personal question, if you wouldn't mind.

[ a personal question, yes. ]

[ with something else he gets his tail to wind onto, the table base (because it has to wrap onto something, eren doesn’t pause in his food, but does keep his attention posted forward to viren. to get a better read on him, perhaps.

it can’t be too personal. ]

Ask away.

[ viren's expression is content to betray him, as to any reads; the tug of a frown at the corners of his mouth seems less severe and thus more melancholic in that. his forehead wrinkles with something like contemplation -- he doesn't think to back out, now, but he does want to word this well. ]

Perhaps it's different, in your world. [ he has come to know, amazingly, that the creatures aren't a shared feature between worlds. ] But at home, dragons are fearsome creatures, built for destruction. Enemies to humanity, powerful beasts that... if they could, would destroy us.

[ heavy words, yes, but viren wants his message conveyed. eren may not be able to empathize exactly, but if he could imagine it, or ultimately give even a wisp guidance, maybe precious from someone so far along in their transformation. he lifts his gaze to refix upon the dragon; hell, he even had pointed ears-- ]

[ maybe he won't have an answer, after all, and viren can dismiss all of this. ]

[..]

I know that I must move forward. [ he knows that, for certain. that is the only option. ] But... how do you cope, being at the mercy of the forces of this world, knowing that you'll inevitably be twisted into something you've dedicated yourself to fighting?

[ ah. the wyvernish dragon always seems to be paying attention, from the second viren begins to speak onwards. it’s when words cut deeper, and closer, that eren ceases with his food, swallows what he already had eaten, and maintains that attention wholly ahead rather that divided. his fingers curl into his palms, loosely though away from drumming on the surface of the table. surprisingly, eren can relate far more than not. it started when he was a boy, just a boy. i’ll kill every last one of them. giant, mindless, man eating monsters. i’ll wipe out every single one of those animals on this earth.

until he became one. until he throttled over it because he was just a dumb kid thinking he was special. then the real enemies came. i have to wipe them out, then we’ll be free eren said then with a little more melancholy, and a tremendous amount more of anger. fighting humanity had been the tip of the iceberg— until he saw the rest, and spoke the last words of innocence to his friends in front of the ocean: if we kill them all, will we be free? four years later, he was the one killing children, mothers and fathers. and that’s how the loop ventured. ]

That’s a start.

[ moving forward, he means, and he’s at least glad viren has grasped that. part of eren wonders why viren thought he’d be the right person to ask for advice. was it because he was accepting of being a dragon? was it fate? the idea annoys him, but he was wrapped and sealed in his own regardless. was it higher powers or himself, and if so, who came first? it was as much of a solid answer as the chicken or egg dilemma. ]

. . . I didn’t always. [ he recalls when he was chained under the crystal cave of the royal family chapel, at fifteen. a crying fool who wanted to disappear. weeehhh i shouldn’t have happened, i’m the enemy, wehhhhh. if only he’d known, back then. if only he knew he was his past, and future, mastermind. no simple slave to the world dies and goes back in time. he only didn’t else his lack of maturity would’ve destroyed every chance his plan had now. ] But that was long before I ended up here.

[ he pauses, hoping that he could convey he’s been in such situation far longer than one would let on. perhaps that’s why it was just so . . . simple? it was too small of a price to pay for an objective that he saw as vast, larger than the notion. ]

We’re all the same no matter which world we live in, huh. Down to the monsters. [ I understand you, his tone says, a sign that viren is not wasting too much of his time, hopefully. he can’t believe he has to add more worlds than his own, either. his tongue flicks out, though time it’s idle, and slow. ] If you’re just like your enemy, becoming them— You get them. You see them in a light you never could before.

[ . . . he sounds thirty years older than he actually is. like he’s been through enough wars to write a book. perhaps— most of his memories, the one’s that have given him this insight, aren’t even his. ]

There’s no way you could get rid of a demon if you aren’t one yourself. But If you have a goal that’s more important than you, [ he flips his hand up, but his eyes go straight to viren. ] it starts to look like a small price.

[ it comes out little to most he speaks with, but the haggard look in eren’s eyes already says he’s paid a little too much to think otherwise, now. ]

— I’d make those forces yours.

[ make that will to protect and tell the world to fuck itself, because you’re going to turn that against them. not the other way around. ]

Edited 2019-11-17 20:40 (UTC)

[ eren presents a few ideas to mull over; viren's likewise quiet as he recieves an answer, gaze perhaps a little intense as he listens, eyes narrowing at some points, widening at others. his expression is, otherwise, inscrutably neutral — ]

[ he suffers from immediate, reactionary pushback with the mindset that he is noble and that his goals are just, that he can't be monstrous in that. it's when eren completes the thought that understanding better locks into place, of something he's likewise known — others may see his methods as cruel, and flinch away from the strength of his decisions. ]

Of course...

[ small prices, indeed. ]

That is correct. Sacrifice, in doing what must be done — it may not be an easy road, but it would be necessary.

[ ultimately, this was all a minor setback. the power of dragons here felt as if they were nothing compared to the nightmarish creatures of his world. nothing compared to the power that he was accustomed to. but he would adjust, study it, learn from this newly twisted form - find other ways to complement it, and he would grow stronger for that, in time. ]

[ expression easing, there's a lifting of his brows accompanied by a small smile. claws tap against the surface of their table. he leans back in his chair, letting out a small breath. his head inclines, just slightly, in acknowledgement, ]

I appreciate your insight on this, as someone more advanced in their changes. [ as someone who had learned of adapting to becoming the enemy before arrival (he hadn't missed that, no). perhaps he would never forget himself, or what he'd dedicated himself to, but: ] Making it my own is a wonderful start.

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