aionlogs | The Door Opens

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The Door Opens

WHO: Emet and open to any Kenoma
WHAT: After being confined, Emet gets out and explores
WHERE: Various locations around Achamoth
WHEN: Three days after this.
WARNINGS: None right now.

After his exit from the dinner party, Emet-Selch appears in his room amidst a billow of black and purple. He can immediately sense a change in the air, as if there are eyes watching him from some undefined place. The presence is the familiar one from the Dining Hall.

He inhales deeply and sighs. "Oh? Have I earned your attention now? How gracious." He takes a few steps to a luxurious cushioned chair and sits. As if in reply, the bolt on the door to the room clicks shut.

I. Days Later, The Door Opens
It becomes clear that the room is meant to be his prison. With no clear exit, fixtures that are impervious to magic or tampering, no assistance from the outside, and no food or water, the thought does arise on whether it is meant to be a grave as well.

Three days on and the lack of nourishment has made him weary. Thinking turns difficult, as does all else. He resigns to sitting in the same cushioned chair with his head resting on the back, eyes closed as he tries to gather his thoughts for a viable solution. There is a book on his lap that he has since stopped reading for lack of clear focus.

It's then that the bolt to the door clicks noisily, indicating that it is unlocked. He drearily peeks at it from across the room.

Emet-Selch stands - steadies himself with a hand to his forehead - and makes for the door. Finding some food and water would need to be the utmost priority.

II. The Library
It seems that the natives take particular 'notice' of his presence. People part in an effort to avoid him as he moves through the crowd on his way to find the Library. Many give the mark on his wrist a disapproving glance. Nevertheless, Emet-Selch can't help but give a small smile of delight. "A true blessing to move about wholly unbothered." He comments. Perhaps the Regent's ire is owed a commendation for this one thing.

He sighs. "Although that does make finding the Library a much more laborious task." So he explores as much as he can in order to find a room filled with books. Perhaps it would have more about this world. Or the meaning behind the sigil he now bore.

III. Magic Lessons
With that excursion out of the way, now comes the matter of looking for a place to work. There must be some open field or facility meant to train individuals - this city has a military, after all. So he sets out to explore the Citadel.

Once he finds a suitable open area, Emet-Selch begins to work. His magic has been strange to him since arriving and this is a good opportunity to work on it with so few people vying for his attention.

He lifts a palm into the air and tries summoning his creation magic to make the smallest of things. Any observers may see him motioning at nothing in the air with his palm, a few glimmers of magic sparking in the air now and again as he tries to conjure. Frustratingly, nothing seems to take form...

IV. Other?
HMU If you'd like another prompt!

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I assure you, I have become well aware of that!

[ As the relief starts to pass, Howl's 'voice' becomes noticeably more terse. He hops off his bed and heads for the door, intent on marching into Emet-Selch's room. ]

What were you thinking, Emet? You're lucky that terrifying man... person... didn't smite you then and there! And more importantly, didn't smite me!

Emet-Selch.

[ He thinks it with a dull flatness. He would not tolerate nicknames like that.

When Howl reaches his room, he will find the door distressingly unlocked. After being locked in the room for days on end, he is noticeably reluctant to lock it right away. ]

And for what reason would they want to "smite" you?

[ Oh, he watched the battle and may have inclinations why. Just call him curious. ]

[ Howl's voice does not answer in Emet-Selch's mind. Instead, there is a distressingly peaceful moment of quiet. And then, the door to the bathroom flies open, revealing a wizard on a poorly contained tantrum. ]

You know exactly why! You... you slithering old man!

[ Howl seems not to care in the slightest that the slithering old man is in the middle of a bath, assuming he's noticed at all. He props both hands on his hips angrily and glares at him like a pouting child. ]

And you left me there! You left me behind! How could you...?! Did you not think at all?! I was terrified!

[ For the first time since they've met, Emet-Selch gives Howl a dangerously sharp glare. He had been casually annoyed by some past actions but he had handled them patiently and they were resolved. This irritates him and it shows. When he speaks, each word is sharp and authoritative. ]

You may air your grievances after I am done bathing. Which I will be momentarily.

[ He lifts a hand and snaps his fingers. ]

Out.

[ The condensation on the ground begins to frost and a wall of ice juts forth from the ground and up to the ceiling. It would take some doing to get through it. ]

[ There's silence on the other side of the ice. It continues as the seconds pass; one might think that the only explanation for Howl's silence could be that he left.

Eventually, when Emet-Selch is already out of the bathtub, Howl's voice reappears in his head. ]

The dinner was awful. Not just for me, but for everyone.

[ He gave him a few minutes, so time to air those grievances. ]

[ To which there is absolute silence in return. Emet-Selch finishes his bath, dries off, and with a wave of his hand the wall of ice dissipates into flecks of sparkling dust so that he may join Howl in the other room.

He wears a long dark gray bathrobe lined with a lighter collar of gray fur around the neck. And - most notably - his glare seems to have disappeared.

Emet-Selch walks to the other end of the room and begins pouring himself something to drink. He's still rather parched from the events of the past few days. ]

So. What transpired at dinner?

[ When Emet-Selch emerges from the bathroom, he'll find Howl sprawled across the couch, boots up on the armrest, as if he'd collapsed there after a Victorian-era fainting spell.

But, he hasn't fainted. One eyes opens to look over at Emet-Selch as he exits the bathroom. ]

After he finished answering questions? Threw a wobbler at us all. Well, not all of us — seems he's got pets picked out already.

[ Howl looks so incredibly pathetic on the couch. Like a dramatic child who hasn't gotten his way.

Emet-Selch pours an extra cup of tea and brings it with him when he goes to sit. The cup is sat on the table next to Howl before he takes a seat in a nearby chair - a silent offering to have a drink. ]

Oh? Am I one of their favorites? Tell me, I must know.

[ He snickers while taking a drink. ]

[ Howl leers at the cup of tea. He's still mad at you, old man, even if he would love some tea right now. ]

Funny. The pets are exactly who you'd expect them to be. That blue-haired woman, the violent man I fought with... even that cute young miss with the pigtails was praised for at least making an effort towards the Regent's goals.

[ With a sigh, he closes his eyes and turns his head towards the ceiling, making himself look as wounded as possible. ]

The rest of us, though... It was terrifying. I felt as though their eyes would burn a hole straight through me! I've never spoken to someone so horrible before.

[ He looks up after a sip of tea. It sounds as though Howl thinks that his presence at that meal would help alleviate some of that 'terror' given how upset he is at the prompt exit. And his persistence to find him afterward.

Looking for security in someone who shows assuredness. Hm. How would he fair facing down the Pleroma if he could not face the Regent? ]

Perhaps you would care to explain. What did they say? What did they do which caused you to feel this way?

[ Still outwardly pouting, Howl would rather just be mad at Emet-Selch than have to explain himself. He's a coward and he knows it — moments of apparent bravery are really just moments of confidence, where bravery isn't needed in the first place. And Howl has never been good with authority figures. He doesn't know how to meet their expectations. He gets anxious just thinking about it. In a strange way, maybe that's the reason he's taken a liking to Emet-Selch. ]

The Regent expressed his acute disappointment in my performance, and the performance of most of the others. They made clear their desire for us to do better next time.

[ So now he's got that hanging over his head. Howl hates this feeling. This isn't how he thrives, how he wants to live his life. Under the thumb of someone else... If he were good at dealing with situations like this, he'd have never abandoned his apprenticeship.

While the details of his thoughts do not come across clearly, his anxiety is emanating off his mind so strongly that Emet will be able to feel it. The feeling is genuine and sincere. As immature as Howl is being, he isn't faking it. ]

And you... getting yourself 'Marked' like that... I hope you know you've got a lot of catching up to do. The most out of any of us. Aren't you worried?

[ Because Howl is worried. For both himself and for Emet-Selch. His concern is also clearly genuine. ]

Howl.

[ Emet-Selch leans forward and sets his cup down on the table in front of them. He can feel that strain of anxiety in his chest - one clearly not his own. It's endearing, in a way, that someone would be so concerned. ]

I had lived countless lifetimes. Even so, I still feel fear, worry, joy, and despair. Just as you do. [ He puts a hand to his chest. ] My heart feels full when I think about those I love. Just as it breaks at the thought of their loss. I am not above those same emotions.

Even so, I can not turn a blind eye to our failures. If I have to bear a mark, [ He quickly indicates the mark on his arm that has been carved there by some unseen force. ] carry a burden heavier than any weight, or plunge into the depths of the seven hells themselves to make sure we see a world better than our own, I am willing to pay that price. I will do that in spite of any fears that I have.

[ He gives Howl a small smile. ] I hope you can forgive me if that dedication means upsetting you a few more times in the future...?

[ Howl listens intently to his answer. As it keeps going, and Emet-Selch's sincerity becomes more apparent, he starts to realize that he is seeing something he has not yet seen from the old man. He begins to sense its rarity, and quickly appreciates the fact that Emet-Selch would respond so honestly and with so much detail about himself. Howl does not realize that it has anything to do with the honesty he showed himself — he'd expected his frustration to be met with judgment and denial and resistance. Probably justifiably. But instead, Emet-Selch is smiling at him. It's... unexpected.

Howl props himself up on his arms, never taking his eyes off the older man as he moves, and tries to decide on what to say. ]

...Yes. Yes, of course. [ The way he's looking at him now is devoid of anger. There's a gentle, newfound curiosity in its place. He had not meant to bring this up so soon, but now he has to. ]

...after you left, when the Regent answered your questions for the rest of us, he called you a being of considerable strength. Not "human", not "mage", not even simply "person". [ pause. ] "Being." What does that mean?

[ Then the questions he asked had been answered. Good. Whether or not he was present to hear the answer, whether or not he gathered information himself, it means that the answer is present within his allies. All he needs to do is talk to them. Ask.

It seems they've managed to get more detail about him in the process, too. Though the question it brings from Howl makes his smile fade. It's not out of anger or unwillingness to talk about it, but out of sadness.

There is a small pause before he begins to answer. ]

I am not human. I am not Garlean. The name of what I am has been lost to time for many, and they now simply refer to me as "Ascian".

We are a people who lived long ago. We valued learning, discussion, creation, and working together towards the betterment of our Star. Our differences paled in comparison to what we had in common.

[ His grief had not been so evident in the cave when they were given that vile concoction, but as he speaks about his people the overwhelming grief is unmistakable. The look in his eyes and the feeling that could be felt through their link would be absolutely crushing, made only worse by the feeling of sorrow that bubbles up within him, threatening to consume. ]

When a disaster befell our world all but four of us were lost to its onslaught. As time marched on our numbers dwindled further. Now... I am all that remains.

[ Howl stares at him, mouth slightly agape, his upper body propped up on the couch by his arms, as his mind attempts to grapple with the incredible sorrow flowing int his mind. No — not merely sorrow, but... longing. Bereavement. Howl would have had enough trouble comprehending the gravity of his words, but to sense the emotion behind them at the same time, it's too much.

The room around Howl begins to blur as tears well up in his eyes. This sadness is just so strong. Too strong. And the same shamelessness that lets him throw tantrums without concern for others' opinions of him allows him to react so genuinely now. To think that Emet-Selch lost his world once already, and has now been subjected to it a second time by coming here... How does he function? The young, heartless wizard can't imagine. ]

...I'm sorry. [ His voice is quiet and strained. After what felt like an eternity, Howl looks away, and the movement makes tears spill from his eyes. He does not reach up to wipe them away. ] I... I did not mean to ask something so upsetting.

[ Emet-Selch looks on and his expression fades into sincerity. Such candid empathy from this boy. ]

No. [ He says this firmly. ] Others must know about them. The only thing that will break my heart more is the knowledge that they have all been forgotten.

[ With that said, He stands and makes his way to a nearby dresser where he retrieves a folded square of cloth. He makes his way back and sets the piece of fabric by Howl's tea - a silent offering of a handkerchief. ]

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The Door Opens

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