walk of shame

[galdorleod]

WHO: Howl & Ciel; Howl & you?
WHAT: On the afternoon of the second day of the TDM's events, Howl set out to make good on his lofty promise to take out Estinien. Once he found him, however, things did not go well. He returns at the end of the day with severe injuries, to be found by Ciel and whisked off for healing and rest. For the next several days, he stays sequestered in his room, but don't think he's so upset that he won't see visitors willing to give him sympathy and attention.
WHERE: Kenoma Lodestone (closed); Howl's quarters (open)
WHEN: Approximately April 27-April 30
WARNINGS: Description/discussion of Howl's pretty significant physical injuries; plus there's a good chance of self-loathing/self-destruction/vaguely suicidal ideation. He is a Kenoma after all, and he's having a bad time.

If you wanna plot something specifically for this, you can PM me here or poke me at lazdo/OddLazdo#2470!


CLOSED: for Ciel (April ~27)

[ The day is turning to late afternoon when the magic of a far-off returning stone glimmers beside the Regent's Lodestone. In the next moment, a large, sticky black mass of feathers appears. The Aion buried somewhere inside shivers in shock and relief as he realizes the spell finally executed, but that quick pulse of emotion drops off sharply as the cold floor crashes against the torment permeating through his entire body. And then, gradually, comes a pervasive aura of not just despair, but tangible physical pain, emanating off the broken wizard like poisonous gas.

A few cultists turn from their current tasks to gawk at the monster that is now, suddenly, bleeding profusely in the Regent's grand and austere hall. They glance at one another as if wordlessly debating who should approach, if anyone. Before any of them move, the pile of feathers does; it rises as if trying to turn itself into a pyramid before two distinct but mangled wings peel away from the mass, along with arms and legs. There is no head to speak of, or at least, no protrusion that can be recognized as a head.

The creature turns very slowly towards the nearest archway leading out of the Lodestone's hall and begins to shuffle towards it. It leaves a trail of blood and iridescent black feathers in its wake. The cultists gawk, unaware of what exactly to do, but to any fellow Kenoma Aions nearby, the creature's mind is familiar. This tortured glob of malleable feathers is clearly, obviously the Wizard Howl, and he is not well. ]

OPEN: for all (April 27-30)

[ In the days following his return to Achamoth, Howl has done his best to keep to himself. Unfortunately his best cannot account for the tenacity of the others here, who to his dismay, have somehow already found out what had happened to him. Whether they know the details, Howl has no idea, but the mere fact that people know that he returned to the city in defeat after a day of fighting inflicts a kind of humiliation on him so severe that he cannot bring himself to show his face outside of his room.

Sadly, this has not stopped people from contacting him through communion — or even attempting to visit. Howl can't decide which is more dreadful: being trounced so thoroughly or suffering the concern of others.

At the same time, it is so very boring in this room, and Howl has never been able to bear being alone with his own thoughts. Regardless of who you are, there's a strong chance he will answer your message, and a fairly good chance he will yell back at your knock that the door is open. ]

Comments

[galdorleod]

Really? An empath?

[ Although there isn't much outward sign of it, Howl's attitude changes immediately upon hearing this information. It's far more interesting than the wings on her head. Pondering for a moment, he holds the mousse and spoon out to the girl. ]

Here, would you like some? [ whether she accepts or not, he continues: ] That's amazing. Quite the rare and formidable type of magic, if it's anything like the equivalent in my world. I wonder if you would you indulge my curiosity and tell me more about yourself miss Meteion?

[ He could actually use some pain relief, to be honest, but that really feels like he'd be imposing. Might as well talk to her a bit first. ]

[perfectlygoodbird]

Oh, no, I brought that for you. I'm not sure if I can get fat, but...if I can I'll find out, with how much of Haron's treats I've already eaten! [But Meteion laughs nonetheless.]

I come from a world called Etheirys. I wasn't born, I was created by an Ancient named Hermes. My sisters--the Meteia--and I were created to use a power called dynamis. If aether is what we know as magic, dynamis is emotion.

[Though she makes a bit of a face, then.] It's probably not that simple, but I'm not sure how to explain it better. And I don't think...dynamis exists, here. I do things now I couldn't do on Etheirys. Like eat! I didn't have to, there. I subsisted on dynamis entirely. But I think I might like eating a little bit better!

[The hard thing about speaking to an empath is that it's...kind of hard to obfuscate your feelings from them. Meteion sidles closer to Howl.]

May I sit on your bed? Will that hurt you too badly? [Should she get permission, Meteion is definitely going to just soothe the pain slightly. If only to take the edge off.]

[galdorleod]

Oh, come now. You're much too young to be worrying about your weight.

[ But, he accepts her answer and goes back to enjoying it himself. He listens to her story and can't help but think about another person who referred to himself as "ancient" — Emet-Selch. It must be a coincidence, though, as Emet-Selch also mentioned his people and world being gone long before he became an Aion. Eiter way, it does throw into question his gentle scolding about her being "too young."

Howl gestures towards the end of the bed, wordlessly assenting to her taking a seat. ]

As long as you don't sit yourself on my bad leg, it shouldn't hurt at all. [ He eats another bite, smiling as he pulls the spoon from his closed lips. ] If your powers still work here, then surely some part of how they operated in your home works the same. Or, at least, that's the guess I'd venture.

[perfectlygoodbird]

Dynamis is emotion, and I can sense others' emotions, still. And project my own. I was created that way, and I guess being reborn here didn't change that part of me. That's how I understand it, anyway. There are others who are wiser than I am, here, that I know. They might be able to explain it better. You might understand it better than I do!

[Not that Meteion seems to be upset about that speculation. She takes a ginger seat on the end of his bed, near his feet. Mostly so she can lay a hand near his leg, whichever one it is. Just so she can put her fingers on it in the gentlest touch.]

I guess I just don't think dynamis exists here. Or at least it doesn't right now. If the Regent remakes the world, that's something I'd definitely change! It's...I enjoy eating, I enjoyed it when Hermes did. His favorite food was apples, covered in syrup, and he got such joy from it...though that might be why I liked it!

Are you sure I can't take some of your pain? [Meteion may have put fingers so featherlight on his leg, but she hasn't yet attempted to soothe the pain. Not without Howl's express permission.]

Maybe when you're feeling better, I'll have to take you to mister Haron's bakery! That would be nice! We could have lunch, or something. I don't know. The food here is really good, but sometimes, I think his food tastes better. There's something it has, extra.

[Love, Meteion. Haron loves what he does. And it shows in his creations...]

[galdorleod]

[ Howl has been spending a lot of time in his room alone, with nothing but tea and books to keep him company; even if Meteion were here to talk to him and nothing else, it would help keep him from wallowing in his own dark thoughts. His defeat, and everything that happened after it, has been weighing on him heavily, although he'd rarely admit it. But Meteion seems quite eager to offer her power to him — can she sense some of it already? Perhaps she's only talking about his physical pain, but even that sounds comforting... ]

Well, if it would help hasten our visit to Haron's, how could I say no?

[ It's Howl's light-hearted way of saying yes. He scoops up the last bite of the mousse and sets the little tray aside as he eats it. He has no idea about how this is going to go, her "taking" some of his pain, but he intends to watch closely for any sign that the girl is hurting herself for his sake. He will not allow it. ]

[perfectlygoodbird]

[He might be a bit disappointed in her, then, Howl might, because Meteion is nothing if not stubborn. She fully rests a hand gently on his leg, then, screwing up her face in concentration. It might seem like she's pained, but she doesn't act like it. Not yet.]

It's not really healing, though. I'm n-not a healer. If you shouldn't be walking, we shouldn't go, yet. I don't think Haron is going anywhere, though! And I'd be happy to bring you more snacks, if what they have here d-doesn't appeal.

[Meteion has not stuttered in years. Not since she left Elpis, but she's also distracted--it's not the worst pain she's ever felt, not by a long shot, but she's also had some respite. So when the sharpness in the moment has tears well in her eyes--she is already drawing her hand back, knowing Howl will tell her to stop if she doesn't.]

That's all I can do for now, I think. My sisters aren't here to help, I'm sorry.

[Not that this is the type of thing they'd help with, these days...]

[galdorleod]

[ Meteion lays her palm flat on the blanket covering his leg, and for the first few seconds, he listens to her pleasantly and feels no different. But then — the ache in his leg, around the joint that Estinien had nearly torn clean from his body... he can feel it subsiding.

At least two healers had already attended to him for hours and neither of them were able to make the lingering agony of his injuries go away. Howl has never had access to healers to mend his body in the many, many times it's been battered — he's content to let them heal on their own — but the pain is constant, unavoidable.

It isn't healing, she's right. In being different from healing, it's superior, as far as Howl is concerned. And this instance doesn't even factor her ability to take away painful emotions! ]

...Stop. [ Howl is so taken aback by what she's doing that it takes him an extra moment to register the toll that Meteion is paying for using her power. By the time he mutters the word, Meteion is already withdrawing her hand and apologizing, but Howl is not ready to move on just yet. ]

What you just did. That hurt you, didn't it?

[perfectlygoodbird]

In the taking, yes. I don't feel it now, save for what remains in you. And if you aren't careful, you can hurt yourself, so please...

[Meteion ducks her head, rubbing her hands together anxiously. She almost expects a scolding, because she didn't precisely obey Howl's directions. But she is what she is. What is more important to her is that he doesn't injure himself again by doing what he shouldn't, because the warning signs are dulled or nonexistent for the moment.]

It's always sort of a subtle thing, my empathy--well, until it's not, I guess. If that makes sense? I could probably quiet a rioting crowd. Not that I've actually had to do that, in the past, ever. And I don't think forcing it on anyone is a good thing--that's why I asked you if it was okay, first.

[galdorleod]

[ Howl watches her silently in the wake of her response. Her nervous mannerisms are not lost on him, nor was the stutter that emerged while she was using her powers and receded as soon as she stopped, nor the tears that welled up in her eyes and are still trembling along her eyelashes. ]

You did. [ With a soft expression, Howl leans closer to her and reaches out towards her face to gently wipe her tears away. ] I thank you for being so considerate, Meteion. For asking my permission first, and showing such respect... And you have my gratitude as well. I do feel better.

[ He must admit that, not only for her sake but for himself. Knowing how her power works now, he resolves to never ask her use it on him again, but for this unfortunate instant, she did help him. ]

...but this pain is mine to endure. My own foolish actions caused it. I won't have you taking it onto yourself again. Alright?

[perfectlygoodbird]

Very well. I won't. [Though there might be times where he can't tell her no. That idea wages its own war within her head, with the knowledge that if Howl found out after he forbade her, it would not make him any happier. She closes her eyes for a moment and lets out a sigh. The tears darken her lashes, but do not fall.]

I'm glad I helped, but I understand that I mustn't do it again. Unless you ask me. [Meteion can't tell of his own resolve to never do exactly that, but allow her to still hold out hope. Selfish, perhaps, but...]

Everyone makes foolish mistakes at times. I suppose if you feel you must punish yourself for it, that's your choice, but I no longer feel the need to do such a thing to anyone.

[galdorleod]

[ It isn't a matter of punishing himself, but of taking responsibility. Howl is terribly bad at taking responsibility for anything, even during those moments of insight and clarity, when he knows he should, or at least that he should try harder to do so. In many ways, pain and sorrow are built-in methods of taking responsibility for one's actions. And although Howl will often avoid even these mose basic of consequences, he would never resort to directly throwing them on another person as a method of avoidance.

His thumb drags gently beneath her eye, carefully wiping the moisture from her eyelashes. He repeats this action a few times as he talks, intending to truly wipe them away, instead of just making a show of the gesture. ]

You punished others with your power, once? [ It's a possibly disturbing motion, but Howl's tone remains curious and casual. ] Only against those who deserved it, I hope?