twohand | IC INBOX ( KENOS ).

[ So, not long after a certain conversation, Drizzt gets a very much out of the blue "call" from the local skeleton scholar. ]

Drizzt. I have a question for you, but admittedly only of minor importance and nothing to do with the Oracle business, to be clear. You seemed to know that Raphael fellow, so, tell me, what are demons or devils or whatever they choose to call themselves like where you're from?

[ The somewhat frustrated, dry sarcasm is clear, so... It wouldn't be hard to guess that Fane might have had a chat with Raphael. ]

[ Fane: breaking in Drizzt's mental voicemail.]

Oh.

[ It feels strange to him, to have a mind glancing directly against his own. Fane's feels like claws, however lovely the scholar has been, it seems they are destined to drag against one another as polar opposites. Painfully and discordant, causing the drow to wince curiously before he recovers himself and willingly opens himself to the other.

His mind is like a frost-bitten wilderness, the roar of the tundra and the steel of his walls are akin to permafrost — and distantly, deeper within him, the sensation of the warmth of the sun upon flesh that never had felt it. An unthawing place, maintained by the tenderly-kept heartland within him: a campfire, with tenscore emptied seats surrounding it. ]

Raphael and I met before he was Harmonized, and thus incapable of holding his guise. I was able to recognize him, that way. We hail from the same world, and in that world, there are both devils and demons and they are not the same. Devils have structure and hierarchy, while demons enjoy abject cruelty and chaos. They both seek dominance over all life, but in different ways.

[ His voice is warm, and there is something... winsomely witty ( sarcastic? ) at the edges of his explanation. ]

Raphael is a devil, unmistakably. He spends his time talking, rather than trying to eat your entrails.

[ and for something so important,,, ]

[ There is a moment when Drizzt responds and opens his mind up to Fane that he’s simply taken aback by how his mind presents himself, but… That surprise does give way to a gentler feeling, though its specific source isn’t clear. It’s recognition that such a chill in someone’s perception is something sad, but he’s drawn towards that warmth. From their conversation before, he thinks that suits the man better. Perhaps that’s a hasty judgement, but it’s what he feels all the same. ]

…Oh.

[ Well. At least that soft feeling is short-lived, and it’s replaced by… annoyance. Having Raphael’s words confirmed feels a bit annoying? ]

How surprising that he was telling the truth.

[ Granted, it’s not as if the demons he’d met were liars, exactly. If Fane examined their words carefully, he’d find they didn’t tend to lie either and held principles closer to Raphael’s, but Fane is ruled more by his emotions and biases than he’d like to admit. He doesn’t like demons and for completely fair reasons finds them untrustworthy, and so he’d just assumed that every other word out of their mouths were lies. It’s a safer thing to assume, technically. ]

Hm. There’s no distinction where I’m from. A demon and the devil would be the same foul creature… And those I’ve met enjoy using their silver tongues just as much as they would eating entrails. I’ve seen more cases of the latter than the former, though. [ But that he’d just as much attribute to the foul nature of Bloodmoon Island itself… ] But I take it that the ultimate point is the same. He’s not to be trusted, correct?

Mm, I am sure he did. I know less of devils than I do of demons, but they do will tell the truth while being deeply untrustworthy.

[ Which ought to summarize up his opinion on devils quite neatly. He has dealt with far less of them than he has of demons ( Errtu, hulking and hateful and hungry, comes to mind ). But all the same, his answers are inviting — Drizzt doesn't believe in keeping too many secrets, not when people's safety is at stake. ]

If he threatens you, I will deal with him.

[ His mind sharpens, like a blade brought to bear. ]

[ o-oh mr. do'urden 😳 ]

...Kind of you. But it shouldn't be necessary. He wasn't threatening at all. If anything, the opposite of that, the layabout.

[ Since conversation aside, Fane hadn't been thrilled that Raphael was being a lazy asshole and not helping literally at all. But whatever, perhaps it's better if a demon, sorry, devil was being lazy. ]

No, a friend of mine at home is... [ He sigh ] Well, possessed by one of them. I know their danger well, unfortunately. But we also killed our fair share, so I'm not overly concerned about him as a threat. It's more annoying that he's my ally, apparently.

[ Hey guess who? It's everyone's favorite (citation needed) British teenager with two much time on her hands. Her mediocre efforts during the Oracle have left the citiznes of Highstorm apathetic towards her presence, and like any reasonable teenager, she's bursting at the seams to complain about it to someone.

Right after she remembers her manners and says hello first. ]

Hey, did you end up making it out of that maze alive? You didn't accidentally fall into a pit of spikes or anything towards the end, did you?

[ Her voice rings through him, brash and bold as her youth implies her to be —

and his own mind sweeps in, attentive and happy to be there for her. Like a door to a quiet home readily opened on a cold night, or a campfire kept stoked and roaring for anyone to find in the darkness and join him at ( ignore the countless empty seats, ignore the lingering warmth upon them, as if someone had just gotten up and left — ). ]

You're all right.

[ He's relieved to know it, honestly. ]

I made it out, safely. I tried to find you before it all ended, once we were separated — you weren't hurt by anyone or anything, right?

Of course I made it out okay! I am the world's greatest pirate, after all. [ Once again, citation needed.

But judging from the tone of her voice, airy and unconcerned, the reassurance of her health and well-being seems to be true enough. ]

But what about you? I came all this way [ mentally ] just for you. Was it your first Oracle thingamajig too, or are you an old pro at them now?

Just for me? That's very kind of you, Miss Greatest Pirate.

[ Ah, the resilience of youth! She's so cute........ ]

It was my first experience with the Oracle, actually. I haven't been here for more than a month or two, working on finding my way. I don't believe I contributed much to either the victory or the loss, either — I don't believe in the things that Oracle wanted us to prove to it.

[ There's a little scorn in his voice, towards the Effigy that had ultimately gone to Meridian. Condemnation for something that demanded such cruelty and harshness from people who didn't deserve to have themselves put on display to all of Kenos at their worst, their most desperate. ]

And I remember what I gave up to it, now. I was lucky that my memory was returned. Was yours?

Drizzt?

[ The name is conveyed quietly and anxiously, like someone unsure whether they're talking to an unconscious person or a corpse. But by reaching out to Drizzt, he gets the answer he's looking for — not silent empty space, but the fizzling sour prickle of a familiar, incompatible Aspect. He is alive. ]

Drizzt! Are you alright? I'm back in Highstorm. Where are you?!

Edited (oops subject liiine) 2024-02-19 00:30 (UTC)

Link.

[ The Hylian's name comes out breathless and agonized, like he's just been socked in the gut and left collapsed on the ground. The bitterness of his opposing Aspect is easily ignored in favor of rushing to meet Link's mind, as if rushing to meet him in person. ]

I am at the Tree, in the Court. Please, please come here!

Okay. [ inhale. ] I'm coming. I'm coming right now. I just made it back.

[ There's earnest urgency in his mental voice, and the faint sound of his feet tapping on cold stone leaks into their Communion. Their connection stays open as he hurries through Highstorm's streets, bereft of conversation but teeming with background anxiety.

It takes a few minutes. When Link finally appears within the walls of the courtyard, he looks terrible. He's still dressed in the same flimsy white robe that usually gets wrapped around those who have just awoken under the Great Tree, but it's torn and filthy. It looks like he's been wearing it for days. He is wearing no shoes, carrying no equipment, and certainly not in any way protected from the city's winter cold.

He sprints towards Drizzt once he sees him and throws his arms around his shoulders with desperate relief. Link's eyes have darkened with Zenith Discord; the sclera turning deep indigo and his pupils enlarging far past what is natural. His right arm, the foreign arm, wobbles in opacity with each passing moment — sometimes, it turns nearly invisible, with only the copper bindings and rings wound around it to mark where it is. ]

Drizzt, I — I...!

[ They hadn't exactly set out into the Beyond with a concrete, certain goal in mind, but this surely counts as a failure regardless. ]

[ In the moment he sees Link arrive, he rushes to him. The desperation in his companion is palpable, and Drizzt easily sweeps him up into his arms to hold him tightly. One hand finds its way into the tangled mess of Link's ponytail, cradling the back of his skull, while the other wraps around his waist. Though shorter than most individuals, the drow is still quite strong, solidly-built, and it's with some ease that he hauls Link into his arms. He's cold. Underdressed, and Drizzt is quick to reach for his cloak, tugging it off his throat and shoulders in order to wrap it around the Hylian. ]

I'm so sorry.

[ He breathes it out, gentle and concerned. ]

I heard the echoes of your Communion — and then you were gone. I wasn't able to do anything for you.

[ Drizzt's body feels solid in his arms, as if it were made of stone. Solid, unwavering. Link is of similar build and size, but his body is still riddled with the effects of resurrection sickness. When the cloak is pulled around him, he shivers and holds onto his friend tighter, but it isn't from the cold. ]

No. No, you didn't do anything wrong.

[ With his forehead pressed against Drizzt's shoulder, he shakes his head. ]

...I let you down. I let everyone down. I'm sorry, I... I'm so relieved... that you're alright...

Absolutely not, don't say that. You tried your best.

[ Adamantly, he refuses to let Link shoulder any blame — not from anyone, least of all from himself. The weather is awful, and with no Manor to turn to, Drizzt is quick to decide on a path that leads to one of the businesses in the Court's vicinity. Someplace where the interior is warm and he can take stock of Link's injuries and health. ]

She must have heard your warning. So many of us did. She just... I don't know if she did anything about it. So many people went back to the Manor, she let them just go back — oh, Link. This isn't your fault. You did everything right.

[ He squeezes the Hylian tight. ]

They killed you. And I was captured.

[ Still leaning into Drizzt's body, his bare feet move on his own as he starts to lead him towards someplace where they can escape the cold. Maybe it's because he's been running on pure determination for the past three days, or maybe he simply, finally feels safe enough to look inward for the briefest moment, but his total exhaustion is starting to hit him all at once. He swallows dryly, hoping that wherever they're going will have food and water, but he doesn't dare complain. There are more important things to worry about. ]

What happened? After I died... what did you do? How did you get captured?

[ The place that he takes Link to is a small rowhouse, the ancestral home of a family that has lived long in the shadow of Yima's Manor. They're offering their home up as temporary lodgings to Shard-Bearers and other displaced individuals, their household staff and soldiers bringing food and water and bedding to those in need; let it be known, that Highstorm does care for its own. That has been encouraging, to Drizzt. ]

After we parted, I heard the end of your warning. I knew you were in trouble... the sound of your voice —

[ He grimaces, obviously heartsick that Link had suffered. ]

I went back for you. When I did, I ran into Legionnaires. They outnumbered me, which is normally not an issue, but they mentioned bringing you back to Springstar. I didn't fight as hard as I would have, otherwise. All I could think of was finding you. I'm sorry, I didn't return to Highstorm until it was too late.

[ He carries Link into the house, reaching for a blanket and a warm drink to press into the Hylian's hands. To encourage him to settle on a bedroll while Drizzt fusses over him, sitting before him on his knees so that he can take his bare, pale feet into his hands and rub them. Trying to warm them and return blood flow to his toes. ]

Zenith stormed the city of Springstar and murdered Tribune Cyrus. Then, Meridian used the weapon we saw. They aimed it at the Manor — [ And it was awful. ] The Manor was destroyed. I think she's dead, too.

[ he's not sad about THAT though ]

[ It does not take much to convince Link to lay down. Where he normally would have objected to being fussed over, he is silent; Drizzt's calloused but warm hands on his feet feel like a blessing from the Goddesses themselves. Now that he's reclined, the extent of his exhaustion settles deeper and deeper into his mind, and he feels an overwhelming desire to sleep. But he can't. Not yet. ]

...I'm sorry.

[ There's no way to see any of this as a failure. On both their parts, technically... but it's difficult for Link not to feel like the blame lies with him. It was all his bright idea, after all; Drizzt had simply been kind enough to accompany him. And it was Link's carelessness that cost everyone a different outcome. The blame has to be on him, right? He could have warned Yima at any point prior to his death — days, weeks ahead of time... but he hadn't wanted to believe that his former allies would do something so grave.

Of course, he didn't think his new allies would do what they did either. ]

I'm sorry, Drizzt. I'm sorry. [ his voice starts to crack as he stares at the ceiling. ] I'm... I'm so thankful that you're alright...

Oh, Link... you have nothing to be sorry for.

[ He knows how it feels — to have worked so hard to make a difference, and for nothing to come of it. To try and save something ( someone ), only to see that those efforts changed little. Except, that it's not Link's fault. He could never believe that. ]

We're both shouldering the regrets on this one. You're not alone in this. Nor would you ever be — there are others who feel the way we do. Responsible. Guilty. Failed.

[ He wraps the blanket around him a little tighter, and returns to working his nimble, dark fingers into the arch of the Hylian's foot. Bloodflow needs to come back into those cold extremities; Drizzt survived the Spine of the World, and the extreme tundra beyond. Even now, he is filled with memories of permafrost and heavy furs, of layered clothing and roaring fires and fatty meals. ]

I'm so glad you're back. I'm sorry — I'm just so sorry you were hurt. You're safe again, I won't let anyone touch you.

[ He wants to sleep. After weeks of feeling unsafe, of needing to be on the alert for dangers in the Beyond, he feels safe. Drizzt is here with him, and he's saying things he wants to hear. Things he doesn't believe, but which feel so good to be told anyway. His limbs are heavy, his eyelids are heavy, and the grief in his heart is heavy.

Is this really okay? Is it justified, deserved, for him to accept Drizzt's kindness? The drow insists that none of this is his fault, but it's hard for Link not to take what he's saying as forgiveness anyway. Is it right for him to accept it?

He reaches down and carefully peels Drizzt's ashen fingers from his feet. He gathers his hands within his own, gently cradling them between his own asymmetrical hands. As he does, it becomes too burdensome to keep his eyes open. With his mind on the cusp of sleep, he brings Drizzt's knuckles to his face in his own wordless gesture of protection and gratitude. He failed to protect anyone this time, but... it's a small comfort to know that this one, trusted friend is still alive. ]

I'm sorry... [ Is he saying this because he didn't hear what Drizzt said, or because he's insisting that this is all his fault? It's hard to say. But a peaceful expression is descending on his face, his eyelashes glistening with held-back tears. ] Rest with me. Stay here...

[ Drizzt shifts, pulling himself across the floor to place his back to the wall and bracket Link's body with his hip. To be able to hold those unpaired hands in one of his own, and with the other, stroke a lock of blond hair from Link's brow. He keeps upright, vigilant even as he half-curves to shelter the Hylian's form. Protective, effortlessly so. Like there's no reason he shouldn't guard Link, like this is what Drizzt really stands for. ( Because he does, he always will. His friends would be happy and proud of him, he thinks. )

Softly, he brushes his knuckles along Link's face, as the young warrior tugs him there. It allows him to sag a little lower, keeping the heel of one foot tucked below his center of gravity in case he has to climb to his feet quickly and bring blades to bear. To some, it might look like a horribly uncomfortable position, but Drizzt has been in more uncomfortable positions and for far longer than it will take for Link to get some rest.

He reaches into his cloak and draws out the dark, onyx-gleaming figurine of his best friend and touches her to his brow. Her name, called softly, leads to a soft welling of dark fog touched with electric-blue lights, as Guenhwyvar manifests from within him and immediately knows his mind. Her warm, strong body slinks around Link's legs and drops to the ground behind him, bracketing his spine with her muscular body. Her head resting on his shoulder, the hearty sound of her throat working akin to a fond purr. ]

I'm here. I'm not going anywhere, Link.

[ Already, he is thinking about who he will need to go to to ask for help with the Discord Link will experience because of their closeness. He'll take care of it. It won't be hard. ]

Mr. Do’urden. I have a matter of utmost importance that I wish to discuss.

[ Very much out of the blue, Drizzt will suddenly feel the touch of the strange, unnatural dark that characterizes Sebastian's mind in Communion. As attuned to his senses as he is, Drizzt will likely feel that additional, hair-raising sensation of something unseen in that dark. It's all the eyes and teeth that Sebastian purposefully keeps hidden, the feral chaos that he hides underneath his perfect, orderly facade.

This, of course, is irrelevant for today.

Because while the emotion that comes through is completely, absolutely serious… Well. ]

Your panther is absolutely beautiful and charming. You were not feeling talkative, so I must ask now—what is their name?

[ Showing genuine appreciation for Guenhwyvar is a sure way to win some brownie points with a naturally reluctant elf, but for the appreciation to come from a devil he had slain? It is perplexing. What is Sebastian's angle? ( And why are all the devils going by such fancy names? "Sebastian". "Raphael". These freaks! )

Demons are much easier to understand, as they seek a violent path that will carry them from point A to point B; devils also want to go from point A to point B, but it's all their dithering and games jammed into the middle of it that make them annoying and dangerous. They're far more flexible about how and when they get to where they want to be.

He shares a silent moment with his feline companion, as if to ask her how she wishes to handle this. And then: ] Guenhwyvar. Her name is Guenhwyvar.

[ His mind is cool, stiff. Already wondering if the devil wants to get to him through her. ~~he's about to find out the most dumb fact about sebastian help~~ ]

Guenhwyvar...

[ He repeats the name perfectly and warmly, and the space of Communion fills up with... affection? ]

A lovely name. It sounds almost Welsh, but, ah, I assume that there is no such place in your world.

[ He and Raphael have probably had long chats about their respective mortal realms, but also like, 90% in an extremely nerdy context, I'm sure. Drizzt, kill them (again). It's the right thing to do. ]

Well, she is magnificent, and I hope she is aware of it! I have never seen a cat so large, but it was an absolute pleasure, circumstances aside. Her fur looked exquisitely soft, so I regret that I did not get a chance to pet her.

[ This all seems to be perfectly, absolutely sincere. Somehow. ]

I'm [ not ] surprised. The two of us dissipated you, and I am to believe you want to — pet her.

[ Maybe it's because he's learned too many lessons about giving ground before devils and demons ( and drow, and the wicked others of the Realms ), but. This is a very strange conversation. The frost in his voice gives way a little; Drizzt isn't one to remain on the defensive for long.

Instead, he seems to draw the image of Guenhwyvar into their connection — alluding to her presence at his side, her tail lashing as she licks her mouth clean of a recent meal they'd shared. See? A kitty. ]

Wait. Goodness, is that why you froze up just before I ran you through?! You were admiring her?

[ KITTY

Or: His Communion warms even further at the image of Guen. It... absolutely does not fit for a devil or a demon, or even just Sebastian general impressions in public Communions. He's so cool and distant that this surge of affection really is strange, but it's also probably nice to experience. ]

Oh—! Ha, well, do tell her hello!

[ He laughs a little more, still warm and unbothered as they chat. ]

But essentially, yes... I admittedly misjudged a tad, since I thought you were going to go the right instead of the left, but that would have put me more into her range. It would have been you or Miss Guenhwyvar to catch me either way!

[ he would have preferred to have been mauled by a cat even though that's surely way more brutal honestly ]

[ THIS DEVIL IS A FREAK

Anyways, there is an impression that Drizzt shares of himself politely informing Guenhwyvar that "Sebastian Michaelis bids you a hello", because it is a harmless bit of courier work and Guenhwyvar has no Shard with which to join into their Communion. She resonates with Drizzt, though; draws on his connection to Zenith, which flows through her as well — there is no Astral Plane, he's found, but Guenhwyvar goes somewhere when she must rest. Somewhere irrevocably tied to this world at the end of all worlds.

Her response is the most regal of throaty chuffs, her whiskers fanning forward as she seizes at Drizzt's leg. Half-rolls on her side and tugs, as if to tell him "stop talking to strange men", in an oddly motherly way. ( To be fair to her, when Drizzt speaks with strange men, it never ends well. ) ]

Do you hold it against us, then? I did have a few reasons for dissipating you, one of which was that my information was a little behind the times.

[ Oh, be still, his heart. She’s perfect. Drizzt is so very lucky, he thinks! He loves his two cats dearly, but to have one the size of Sveinn… Ah, that would be bliss. Heaven, even, but that may be too on the nose. ]

Oh, not particularly, no. Dissipation is unpleasant, certainly, but at least this time it managed to skip the process of having to come back. I dislike the latter a bit more, actually…

[ It’s best not to ask why, though. That is a rationale that is definitively in the realm of the fiends, regardless of term… Even if he’s the one receiving it, he simply viscerally enjoys violence. m ]

Though I am curious what your reasons were, admittedly. I listened in on your discussion with Hayame, naturally, so I know she set you after me, but that is presumably part of the outdated information, as I had removed myself from Zenith first… But if there were others, I am interested.

Well. Hayame is not someone I view as a bastion of good intentions, nor is she very honorable. [ That would imply she treated her enemies with less vitriol and naked disrespect. ] However, upon my own research — those she named were found to be of greater threat to Zenith's cause and goal than they were asset.

[ Drizzt's smile falls away, exposing something a little more severe, a little more grim. He's grown used to wearing a personable expression, using shy warmth to support and elevate his allies and others having a hard time — the truth is that he can be deeply harsh, devoted to the blade, devoted to a justice beyond the pale.

And that justice does not welcome the machinations of demons and devils; for they are always conniving for their own sake and ends. He simply cannot trust them, though he juggles his preconceptions of them with the new reality as best he can. ]

I could not find much on you, beyond what you are. While in my world, that would be enough to condemn you... it could not be what led my blade now. I looked into your alliance with Silco, though. What changes happened to Kowloon from the time you both took up residence there suggested a proclivity for corruption. You destroyed their freedom and independence by encouraging xenophobia and resentment towards a given target. It was Springstar, and handily, that benefitted Zenith.

[ An image might spring within Sebastian's mind — that of a bored, yawning goddess, putting her fingers into the metaphoric wounds of generations of drow. Coaxing them to hate and hate and hate; hate one another, hate outsiders, hate and hate and hate. He sees that in Kowloon, it seems — the cruel whimsy of Lolth, in Sebastian and Silco's actions. ]

I don't like cruelty. I abhor it.

Edited 2024-05-27 17:48 (UTC)

[ When talking about Guen (or, really, cats in general), Sebastian’s Communion is a little warmer and more whimsical. It’s a rare spot of what might be real, pure affection. So, it makes all the odder and starker as the conversation slips back to more familiar territory. It’s as if a light were being dimmed, and the calm, easy dark fills the space again.

Though some pleasure remains, or rather, shifts in quality. Drizzt’s words might as well be praise, and he feels no reason to hide that feeling now. Perhaps if he were still Zenith and still actively pushing Kowloon in that direction, he might be more subtle, but now? There’s no need. That little effort was one to serve his master, but more importantly, it was to steep him in the delicious sort of hypocrisy that he favored as a flavor of the soul.

The goddess pulls a little curiosity at first, but then a gentle laugh at the statement. He thinks that it’s such a shame that Drizzt hadn’t arrived earlier. Perhaps Kowloon might have been more satisfyingly challenging to manipulate. At least someone noticed eventually, he supposes. ]

Oh, I am not surprised to hear that you could not find much. I pride myself on being very well-behaved, so far as my brethren go.

[ Of course, there’s layers to his seemingly casual statement. It’s more that he doesn’t pick violence as his first recourse, or perhaps even his fifth, though he adores it the same as any of his kind. It’s extremely indirect confirmation that Drizzt’s concern is well-founded. He’s dangerous and formidable, and there are tales to prove it from Meri like D and Hayame, but his deft ability to wield a softer power is far more dangerous to people. ]

…Normally, I would argue that I destroyed nothing. Merely gave a little more confidence for feelings already within their hearts. But I see that this would not exactly be a convincing one, hm?

[ Drizzt already sees the trick for what it is thanks to Lolth. Yet rather than be disappointed at having his tricks exposed, he’s lightly intrigued. So, he’s honest as a result. ]

I adore seeing mortals’ cruelty. It is exceptionally interesting.

IC INBOX ( KENOS ).

during the oracle but this also isn't important

help,

HOW IS HE SO SAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

tragic shojo heroine vibes tbh

honestly??

post-oracle, communion

DAUGHTER,

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february; 3 days after manor attack

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guess what this one isn't important either

stupid threads for stupid people

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