hugtopia | 02: insert creative title here

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02: insert creative title here

[ There is no longer the warmth of someone beside her when she rises, no arm around her, no shoulder for her head to be tucked into, no quiet breath she can hear, no soft rhythm of a heartbeat she can feel beneath her palm, no trace of a magic and light that feels as if she's bathed in the stars. There is no greeting with soft, quiet eyes and and an even softer touch, careful, caring, no murmur of her name. No feeling of acceptance, no slow rise thereafter, no touch in return to correct a strand of her hair with warm fingers lingering upon her cheek.

Instead there is emptiness as deep and overwhelming as the sea, perplexing, disorienting, storming, and cold. She peers into its maelstrom and knows that she ought to be there beneath it all, surrounding her, sealing her. That is the tomb she had chosen for herself for centuries, after all, basking in the safety of emptiness thus keeping the world safe in turn. How can emptiness feel so heavy and crippling, as if she's never experienced it before? Has she learned nothing?

No, she has learned something. It is the same lesson she has learned before-- ]

For those of his family and Eos, and for those of you who knew him, Somnus is no longer in Havenwell. I may only hope that he has returned to his homeworld in peace.

Please, let's all work together more to restore this world, so that perhaps those of us who wish to return to our worlds may also have the opportunity to return.

[ --that she must do what is necessary to secure the future of her world. She must return to her world. To return where she must be, to return to the state she had originally been in, to return to her Father and beg him for peace at last. Somnus has returned to his world, thereby ensuring its future. She has not forgotten that she, too, has the very same duty. Her love and her loss, this hollowness, this numbness-- she knows, she knows, it is painful, guilty; she ought not harbor any of these feelings. Yet terribly against her nature as it may be to experience emotions at all, they have one use in their turmoil and admiration for the world and all those in it: that they are reminding her, inspiring her to do what must be done to ensure that the future of her world remains. ]

A: Falconing. Morning.

He's gone, little partner. We are sorry. [ It's only Horus to whom she murmurs, the falcon unwittingly left behind by man who owned it. Presently the raptor is perched upon her arm, and she carefully strokes along the side of its neck as it turns its head side to side, seemingly awaiting a command. With a slight lift of her hand it takes flight, and a few moments later she tosses up bait for it to take.

To anyone watching her, she appears at peace. She is smiling and calm, watching the bird glide throughout the dilapidated buildings of the city. It circles her, awaiting its next morsel, and she throws another treat-- farther this time, and it dives after it.

It does not seem as if she notices that you may be approaching her. This may be odd to those who know her well enough to have noticed how normally attentive she is to her surroundings. ]

B: Returning from the Labs, Evening
[ For those of her who have known her throughout these months, they may also know by now that she is not shy to engage in contact.

Nothing has changed on that front, and so when you happen to join her on one of the streets, she will greet you with a pleasant, serene smile. As is also typical. ] Oh, are you heading this same way...?

[ Have a hand offered to you, fingers outstretched. Should you take it, her grip is light. To those who have taken her hand often before, this may seem odd. ] Let's walk together.

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[He makes an indiscernible noise at that, acknowledging, but not quite agreeing. It's such a little thing, and it's pitiful that even this much can be a struggle for him sometimes. What kind of friend would he be if he couldn't do at least this for her when she needs it? He just wants to help her. Gods, he hopes this helps her. There's no perfect way to unravel and mend the pain she's in, he knows that well, and it might be impossible to truly satisfy the ache she's feeling. But she deserves to still enjoy things, too, to feel joy and peace and satisfaction. One can't exist only in misery.]

Whatever you need, okay? Just say so. Or... [He purses his lips, hesitant, but following his instincts, the signs and hints he's been trying to collect over time. The patterns she's left for him.] Or find a way to show me, somehow. If you can't say it.

[And he won't ask, but... there are things she can't say, aren't there? He doesn't know what those limits are, and maybe explaining herself is one of them. Either way, it's fine. If they help each other, they can navigate the issue together.]

[ ...So very kind. Just look at how he offers whatever she might need, to just say it, ask for it. Or to show him, if she cannot say it.

They are already in contact. This is enough, that's all that is necessary. She pulls back from the embrace, just enough to raise her eyes to look at him. His are a clear blue; hers, misty from tears.

She offers a spiritless smile. ]

This touch... is all I need.

[She looks like a mess, but she's still smiling- a smile as forced as one can get. Rather than returning it, he brushes his thumb across her cheek, catching whatever wetness is still there in the fabric of his brace, and shakes his head. A gentleman would have a handkerchief or something, like some old-timey nobility. (Someone like Somnus.) This is all he has.]

I don't think that's all, but... you've got it, if that's what you want.

[ She feels his thumb brush beneath her eye, wiping at the wetness upon it. The first time she ever shed tears had been five hundred years ago. What a shock that had been, knowing that the form she took could produce such a human reaction. It is a shock now-- not the tears, for she's cried on behalf of others a good amount, without guilt-- but his hand there, enough that her own hand leaves his chest. It raises to slide her fingers over his upon her cheek, pressing down his palm as if his touch soothes a still-stinging strike.

He is correct to assume that that is not all; there are so many selfish wants within her that she's shocked at how many there had been gathering up until now. Wants like-- not wanting to be left alone. Wants like wanting to be among others, wants like wanting to freely feel as she pleases, to walk among humans, to show and to prove that she cares for them, to love them, to love them.

Her other hand raises to his cheek. It seems that she's searching his face, but finds nothing. ] You give us so much already.

Edited 2020-04-03 19:22 (UTC)

[There it is again- us. Even his dad doesn't use the "royal we" speech pattern. Hell, he doesn't know anyone who does, and she speaks this way so inconsistently he can't help thinking it's a mistake she doesn't mean to reveal. He shouldn't ask, probably. This isn't the time or the place.

But. But. She's already hiding, and she knows it, and he knows it, and she shouldn't have to. He opens his mouth, closes it, then murmurs,]

Who else is in there?

[ --A mistake. As usual, when she's overwhelmed with emotions, she slips and lets secrets through.

She shakes her head, her lips forming a wistful smile. It looks as if it takes effort for her to look at him, to speak. ]

Us, as in... everyone here.

[ She settles back from the embrace; but then, her hand takes his off of her cheek, and she lowers hers from his to clasp over it as well. With their hands held between them, she gives his a squeeze in a way that's probably meant to be reassuring.

She blinks once. ] Everyone you meet, Noctis. [ She blinks twice, feeling a new wetness fall over her cheeks even as she smiles, eye bright with sorrow and appreciation. Her expression appears overwhelmed with this gratefulness, but it's burying something within. Her tears could easily be of joy and comfort, just as much as they could be from a leak from the seal of thankfulness beneath which she attempts to bury all else.

It's a tactic she's used before for herself. Be appreciative of what she has now. And acknowledge what she has. See how wonderful it is, the friend she has made, the other bonds she has, the amount of people she's gotten to know, the wondrous reality that she's able to walk among them at all. This, this is what she has. What right does she have to sorrow, when she has so much unwarranted good happening to her already? ] You give so much to all. I am.... happy, Noct, just to have met you. And to have known you as a friend.

[Another evasion, then, another lie. He's not surprised, though, as it's what he'd expected. He purses his lips for a moment, glancing off to the side, noting the way she squeezes his hands, the way she talks- like he's the one who needs comfort now, like reassuring him is the priority. That in itself as well is not unusual, but that doesn't make it right.

He twines their fingers together, squeezing back. He doesn't have to pry right now, but he doesn't have to accept her entirely at her word, either.]

I'm happy to help everyone here.

[His tone is quiet and pointed, gaze focused on her, just her. Everyone here, right here, including whoever this elusive "us" might be. She can lie if she wants, if it's what she has to do, and that's okay. He can't force her, much as he'd like to understand the truth.

But he knows it, now.]

And if there's anything else... whatever it is, any time, just say it. I'll listen.

[ They cannot be alone. That is not how this world works, and to retreat into solitude like some mortal's flight instinct would not serve this world or their own purpose. Galvanized by grief to do what is necessary, she'll continue on her path. It goes against knowing that they truly shouldn't be walking this land with others, but the end goal necessitates moving along with the future, no matter how painful it is or fearful she is of feeling more. And how strained it is to continue to smile, how walls only continue to be reinforced around her.

Those walls are necessary. He's holding the hand of something divine and deadly. She can picture him as ash fluttering like snow from her palms: there, then not. Always, there, then not. The imagery strikes a cord of fear within her, and her fingers flinch against his. ]

I'm moving forward, Noct. It is the only way to go. [ For others, she would encourage that they might look upon the past and draw strength. For herself, she has no right.

Unfortunately, she will not say anything without encouragement from another. How dare she admit that she is hurt. He is the priority. Others are always the priority to comfort. This isn't about her, she's not even part of their family, not technically speaking. What of the others, what of Noctis' thoughts, what of Ardyn's? How can she distract Noctis from going to someone who may need his comfort more than herself? ]

What will you do now?

[Moving forward... the only way to go. That's familiar. And not wrong, either- there's no going back, as much as any of them might long for it. Regrets won't drag Somnus back to this place, or Luna for that matter, and he wouldn't wish that on them as it isn't his call to make. They have lives of their own to live, or duties to perform, or, in the case of Somnus, rest already earned. It's up to them to carry on from here.

At her question, he shifts position to face forward and reaches out his arm, the free hand with the brace, so Horus can come back for another hunt if he wishes, or rest his wings a bit. Give Pyra's arm a break as well. His answer comes without hesitation.]

What I'm already doing, obviously. Hold your hand.

[She can cry, or share her thoughts, or change the subject if she wants. Doesn't matter to him; what matters is her, what she needs. His company is hers for a while yet.]

[ And for that, she's grateful.

Horus descends as soon as he spots the outstretched arm, landing upon Noctis' bracer with a flutter of his wings. He tilts his head left and right, beak open. Noctis is not Somnus.

Pyra reaches out to the falcon, lifting a finger to stroke along the softer feathers just along his neck for a moment, reinforcing praise for returning. It is inevitable that the falcon will reminds her of Somnus, and she's sure she will think of him when she sees deep blue sylleblossoms. There is no helping it. No matter where she goes, she'll find traces of him here, there, or anywhere, the memories pricking like needles to her skin...

Feel like crap, he admitted. She can't focus on just herself. It's too difficult, and although speaking about Somnus is as well, she wants to be sure that Noctis is alright. ]

Do.. you want to talk? About Somnus. He was your ancestor, after all.

[He gives a noncommittal hum, holding his arm steady as she pets Horus, his gaze shifting between the falcon and her, recalling what Somnus had said about interacting with the bird.]

I could. Don't know what to say, though... you knew him better than I did.

[An invitation, if she wants to talk about him. A bond had been forged there, something indecipherable to him but at the same time clear as day.]

[ After one last pet, she sits back. He is free to tend to Horus, idle.

As for Pyra, she tilts her head to the side, a movement that causes her earrings to sway and catch the morning light.

"Knew him better than I did"-- ] ...Even though you have the ring?

[ Doesn't it lend some sort of soul connection to the old kings? Perhaps all of their voices are too loud still for him. Come to think of it, they've been neglecting that aspect of their training... which is fine. He has experienced too much lately. ]

[Ah... right. The ring. He purses his lips.]

I've never talked to the one in the ring. Not him, or my dad. It felt weird to try- they were here, real people I could greet and see and...

[Even now, with Somnus gone, the thought of doing so feels wrong. Like going behind the man's back, prying without permission. That's not the same Somnus who held his hand and offered him such solemn advice, who ventured out into the storm with him, who gifted to them the Regalia and to Noct, his mysterious sigil, for no other reason than he wished to.

He lifts their joined hands a few inches.]

This is better, right? Than using the communicator to call?

[ She glances down at their hands, then up at him, to Horus, and back to him. ]

Mm.

[ She nods, the tilt of her head more solemn. Perhaps Noctis only knew of the Founder King through history books. And Somnus-- well. He's watched through the lens of the ring the entire time. ]

He... cared for you. [ Within his hand, her palm presses more firmly against his before relaxing soon after. Closing her eyes, her chest rises and falls slowly with a breath. ] When he spoke of you, he sounded... so hopeful.

[He knows that much. At first he'd thought it was only because of his status, an important piece of the puzzle that is their world's thousands-year prophecy. Over time, though, it had become much more than that. Somnus had watched him grow up, had been there in spirit any time he was with his father. He believed wholeheartedly that the future would play out as intended, and they would all be free at last. When they spoke it was impossible not to feel the weight of it, and yet there was no pressure in his direction to hurry up and get it over with, not like he'd felt with the gods. Somnus understood that above all else he was still just a human, trying to live a normal human life as best he could. He allowed this place to be a respite.

Someone who didn't care would never have made such concessions.]

He did. He really believed that I could do it... finish what he started. I want to live up to those expectations.

[ He was hopeful for the future in general, but here she pauses.

"--Expectations." She hopes speaking of this won't put more duty on Noctis' mind. It must be exhausting after a time, always being reminded of hope, hope, hope, each time a little more weight added to the responsibility he carries. Just as she thought it would be exhausting for Somnus to have constant reminders of what he could not undo. ]

He... rarely looked back. [ A good and bad thing. She saw how he suffered, how he had changed over the course of his time here. If he recalls his memories here when he returns to his world-- or, perhaps, goes to another before then-- she wonders if he'll think of her, or look back upon what time he had with her. What a selfish thought.

She had learned that he had been in another world before this one, one in which they had met. She had forgotten him. He remembered her. It was wholly unfair to him. ]

...And for his time here, he won't have reason to, if he returns to Eos. He'll be with you, there.

...Yeah.

[And he's still here in spirit, in some small sense. Still buried in that mass of souls within the ring, not quite the same, but not all that different, either. He wonders if she'll sense him when they practice, and if she can, whether it would be a source of grief or comfort. He's not even sure what he'd feel yet, if he attempted to contact the Founder King's soul.]

Want me to pass on a message when I get there?

[A simple thought- not helpful in the now, or probably in the long run either, admittedly. He wishes he could offer more, wishes there was some magic portal to open up and share between worlds. One misfortune about this place is the number of people who are precious to him now, that he'll never see again when he leaves here. He's not the only one who has that problem.]

[ She almost looks as if she does have something to say, but stops herself. Just like that, he’s turned the conversation back to her.... and she had almost missed that. He’s sharp. ]

Isn’t that... something you should be asking Ardyn instead? Or others from Eos, who have gotten to know him here instead of a spirit? [ If they did at all. ]

Is there a limit on who I can ask? Or is your message so long I should write them all down?

[His lip quirks. He sees what she's doing here, too.]

[ She catches the twitch of his lips, then her eyes meet his again.

On his arm, Horus tilts his head to the side. For Pyra, she mirrors both this and that earlier quirk of his lips.

aight boi les do this ]

Shouldn’t the Lucis Caelums take their family’s messages into account first?

[ Her tone is careful, tentative like a too-short child reaching over a countertop, looking for treat while being ignorant of the knives. Normally she wouldn’t opt to play this back-and-forth with such a pathetic topic, so perhaps she can change it, but... this game is actually a past time of hers. Not one she’s ever played with him, however. She wonders how it will go. ]

[Huh.

Okay, he can play.]

Why would their messages affect yours? Not like you're opposed to anyone, far as I know.

[He lifts his hand up to his shoulder, so Horus can move over to perch there instead. His arm's starting to get sore from holding it like that, and the bird seems content to chill for now. His jacket should be thick enough to withstand the claws.]

[ Hm.

This topic is too self-pitying. It’s not her. ]

What... message would you be giving him?

[He manages to hold back a sigh, barely.]

Can we come to some kind of arrangement where you at least pretend to answer a question before you throw it back at me? Even if said answer is just, "mind your own business, Noctis"?

[ —She hadn’t expected him to be so blunt. It catches her off guard.

Looking away from him, her shoulders sag slightly when she exhales. She’s listless...

And she’s being disrespectful to him, always dodging his inquires. Out of all the times and reasons she hasn’t answered him before, this question of delivering a message is of lesser significance to deny— which it might not matter, as it’s likely he won’t remember that which occurs here. This is a thought exercise at best and nothing more, one that she even won’t let herself entertain....

Yet she’s tired. And he’s insistent. He only wants to help her. He is helping, even if she does not realize it. ]

You... [ It’s a delay. It seems she’s formulating some sort of response. ]

You’re very stubborn.

I get that a lot.

[He'll wait. Dodging the question is still an option, of course- and halfway expected more often than not. He'd just rather she be honest about it at this point.]

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