aionlogs | [OPEN] i am shell and i am bone

WHO: Brainwashed Estinien and YOU
WHAT: Having been dissipated during the Innocence's execution, Estinien returns very much changed.
WHERE: The Citadel, Achamoth
WHEN: Early Sekiseri
WARNINGS: Torture, abuse, brainwashing, public humiliation. The forecast for Estinien is extremely miserable and depressing at the moment.

I➔ Of the Abyss

He had been born into this world empty, with a body misshapen and unfit for survival. There had been no reason for it, no meaning to existing... he'd simply been formed, drawn from the abyss in the service of another. It was only at that master's touch that he was provided with a means and purpose to act. Only at their call that he had regained hazy memories of hatred and torment and remembered that there was something out there to blame for what he was.

His was a miserable existence, after all. Since the moment he had been pulled from his chrysalis, utterly helpless and blind, wracked with spiritual pain, he'd known that much. At first, living had been nothing but aimless suffering. With nothing inside of him besides a sense of devastating loss that he had no means to understand, he had eagerly latched on to whatever was given to him. To know that he had some use to his keepers, the ones that had gifted back his sight, gifted him the legs to stand on and hands to touch... he'd do whatever they wanted with the strength they had afforded him. Even if they saw him as a wretched creature worthy primarily of disgust, it didn't matter. Not when the alternative was unending, meaningless pain.

He's been told he'll have an opportunity to strike back against the forces that reduced him to this state, that destroyed whatever he was before. He had no memory of it. He's the spectral remains of something that once lived, and now there is only vengeance to look forward to. He'd like to hurt someone else, he thinks. To drag the enemies that he touched closer to himself, to what he had been made into. To make them experience it for as long as he can.

It's in that state of mind that he is first let loose into the Citadel, craving to inflict pain, but having been taught that no one within the tower's walls was to be harmed or struggled against. Instead, the people of the Citadel, the Aions in particular, were his objective superiors. His presence there was a mercy to him, and he was to accept whatever he was given by the others, whether it be torment or aid. His role was to act in their service, by whatever means his feeble mind could manage.

Any Kenoma who come upon him may recognize Estinien Wyrmblood, but only in some aspects of his form. To those with the Sight, he is attuned to the Kenoma and of the Firebrand. Physically, he is a mess. His torso and head still reflect the snow white of the Innocence, though with crimson, draconic eyes. The one on his left side is severely scarred, its sclera darkened with void. Each limb is similarly blackened, looking less like a natural extension of his body and more like foreign flesh that has been grafted on, scaled and clawed and monstrous.

His gait is unnatural, as if not quite accustomed to the idea of walking, as if his limbs are confusing to him. He's dressed in nothing but what appears as a rag-like loincloth, his long white hair unkempt and hanging in ragged chunks. Restraining him is a thick collar and muzzle. Around his darkened, greyed-out shard a sigil is carved - one that might be familiar to some. It's the very same mark of disfavour that Emet-Selch had briefly worn, all those months ago.

There is no recognition in his eyes.

II➔ Walking in Shame

While the Regent's mark on his chest has caused many of the Citadel's inhabitants to give him a wide berth, that hasn't been enough for some of them. Either having heard the rumours of who and what he is, or having seen him themself in the sky of Achamoth, some are unable to contain their spite for him. Though he's been made to heel already, a few of the Citadel's non-Aion residents may be seen heaping additional scorn on him, spitting cruel words and accusations that he has no context for.

Sometimes the abuse turns physical. You may witness Achamite soldiers berating him in the halls, shoving, tripping, or manhandling him. For his part, he has little reaction, taking whatever he is given as rightful and purposeful. At some point, a gaggle of Citadel neophytes assigned to cleaning duty dump a bucket of dirty wash water over him. Others hurl rocks.

[Feel free to invent other scenarios with Citadel NPCs if you want, I'm open.]

III➔ In the End

When he isn't aimlessly wandering the Citadel, he is caged for the night. While that first day Dionys is there to lock him up, from that point on she visits only intermittently to let him in and out, and much of his time is spent alone. His prison is something more befitting of a zoo animal, kept to a distant corner of the Citadel, nearby the tables where the mounts are kept. There are guards on patrol nearby, but Kenoma will be allowed to pass through, provided they don't do anything suspect.

There is nothing in way of comfort or adornment to its interior, just bars and a cold floor to pass out against. He lays still most of the time, nothing to devote his thoughts to, nowhere else to be. He almost looks forward to when one of his keepers return... anything for a moment of respite and meaning. It's possible that the one visiting him now has been given permission to unlock him for some purpose. He is unlikely to complain.

[OOC: Estinien has been 'trained' to go along with whatever the Kenoma subject him to (besides outright killing him) and he can be freely taken anywhere in the Citadel. For the most part he's been wandering around common areas. I've been told that Kenoma won't get in trouble for interacting with him/feeding him/dressing him as long as they aren't excessively compassionate about it. The Kenoma can also specifically request his use for whatever tasks they might need done, though he will be incompetent at anything that isn't straightforward.

To clarify what "excessively compassionate" means: it's really just not doing stuff that portrays what the Regent did to him as wrong or acting like he deserves better. Part of the humiliation is him having to rely on what Kenoma give him, so they may deign to help him, it would just be bad look to do it from a place of moral objection that would undermine the Regent's decisions.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"That's fine, I'll get it for you." It won't be great, as he'll likely have to specify who it's for; it's long been noticed by now that Paul doesn't eat or drink anything himself. Not that many people judge; it's not like the Regent consumes anything in view of anyone, either.

"I can't let you out, I'm not in charge of that. But I can probably pass something to you, at least. I don't think they care much about that."

Let him out?

He hadn't even considered that Paul would, not unless he had a task to be completed. Even as the possibility passes through his mind, though, he realizes he's not sure if he'd even want to. As uncomfortable and numbing as being caged was, is wandering the halls of the Citadel any better, facing nothing but uncertainty and scorn?

As for Paul's offer, at first he doesn't think to say anything in response. He just for Paul to leave and hopefully come back, doing whatever it is he deems important. It isn't until a few moments later that the idea of a response occurs to him.

He nods his head. Yes. He'll take whatever Paul gives, and he'll have no reason to complain.

The pause between the offer and the response is...odd, but it's not something Paul is going to question too much; he just leaves once confirmation is given, and he returns a short while later with water and...well, at least he's located where we keep the rations for the new people just getting used to the Kenoma. It's not great and it's not much, but it's also not going to kill anyone.

He sets it out, finding it preferable to let Estinien take it than to hand it to him; he doesn't have a lot of trust in him yet, and he still remembers how he'd tried to kill Matt.

"I don't think you remember who I am. I'd think your response would be different if you did." So there's that much out in the open; he just sort of gauges Estinien's response. "My name is Paul. I'm a priest."

He's in the same place when Paul returns, like he hasn't really moved at all. How much he does want it only intensified when he sees the modest offering being laid out for him. He takes the water first, already drinking it as Paul speaks.

...Only to pause, choking on the liquid, when he processes what Paul is saying. His gaze lifts to Paul's face again, and the idea that he is supposed to remember something sends a twist of dread through his insides. This is the second Kenoma, the second of that unreachable superior being, that is telling him that he should remember them. What does it mean?

"Why... would I remember...?" he asks raggedly. He can't imagine his response being different. What is Paul anticipating he would do?

"You hated me. Quite a bit, actually." His words are blunt, straightforward; he doesn't seem bothered by them. "We'd never met before, either; that was just something you'd decided without knowing me at all."

He shrugs. "It is what it is. The fact of the matter is that I minister to everyone here. If that includes you, then so be it. But you've caused harm to many in this place. Don't expect them to be kind or welcoming."

The most painful part of this is that it fits well enough into what he's already been told that things start to click into place. He already knew of something called the Pleroma, how it had burned him up in its radiance and left only dregs behind. How it was what was responsible for him being in this state, how it was only thanks to the Regent that there was enough of him here to experience anything other than helpless suffering. He knew that the Pleroma's touch was why he was so wretched now, why he couldn't serve the Kenoma like the others.

He just hadn't given much thought to what he did while the Pleroma was within him. He'd died, been torn apart by it, but that was a mistake made by a being he was only a spectre of. He couldn't understand or resolve it. That person had been destroyed and he was nothing but a lingering fragment, desperate to do whatever it could to avenge itself upon the force that had left him like this, because it was the only way to give purpose to his pain.

Hearing about how he'd personally wronged the Kenoma here, though... it's not quite guilt that he feels. He doesn't remember it, doesn't remember being that Pleroma-infected creature. It's hard to relate to crimes that he doesn't understand at all. But it causes his insides to turn, to twist, to ache, because it's just another reminder of what a cursed existence he has awoken into. Better than being trapped in meaningless, sightless agony perhaps, but only just so.

His gaze wanders and he shifts around in his cage, feeling uncomfortable in his body and existence in general.

"I don't..." he finally says. He's never expected anyone to be kind to him. Him being here at all was the Regent cleaning up someone else's mess, wasn't it? Why would he expect anything?

"You don't what, expect anything?" He doesn't sound particularly surprised by any of this, he's just verifying. "That's probably for the best. I don't know how some people here are going to react to you."

It's another thing that just is what it is. He can see some people being merciful; others not at all. It all depends on the individual. Paul is one of those that believes in mercy unto all, but that doesn't necessarily mean he has to like everyone. There's a difference, in the end. Perhaps not a very Christlike difference, but a human one that he's willing to seek forgiveness for later, should it be warranted.

"How do things feel now? The Kenoma. How does it feel to have it active within you?"

He nods in vague confirmation. He's already had some very contrasting experiences with the people in this tower, and he's taken both of them in stride, he thinks. To accept what he's given is what he's been instructed, to show his commitment to his new masters. Only then will he be able to do anything on his own, when he's proved his loyalty.

He had to think about what question, and it's hard to answer. He's not sure what life is like outside of the Kenoma, now. He doesn't remember much about how the Pleroma had felt, besides some vague memory of power and the burning of his soul from within.

"...Better," he manages. He thinks that's right. "Better than... how the Pleroma left me."

As far as he understands it, his broken soul is the Pleroma's doing.

If nothing else, Paul seems to approve of that much. "Good. I'm glad to hear that, actually." From the sound of it, he genuinely is? It's a bit startling, maybe, how easily that settles his demeanor. "It was...truly a good experience for me, accepting it for myself. I fought against it as well, at the beginning; I think everyone does. But accepting it has brought with it a kind of peace that I don't think anyone but those helping us can truly understand.

"It's...good, that you have that for yourself now. You'll come to really love it, I'm sure of it."

[OPEN] i am shell and i am bone

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