boxofkururu | the rising

the rising

[ He had not wanted to be drawn from his yearly stupor of The Rising. Five years, the two he cared for both died during this time - both to prevent the Endtimes. In years passed, he tried to ignore the celebration in general. He could not stand to hear the sounds, listen to those who seeked to party to celebrate their survival.

This year, however, his fellow Archons - and those who called themselves Scions - had decided to go to the beach - and had brought him along. Perhaps they worried that if he were left to his own devices, something horrible may happen. (What had he done to earn that reputation. Were it the rumours of a man who looked like him? Many adventurers mimiced them, especially since they begun selling those replica uniforms.)

But Urianger... this one could not stand to be around them. This day was not one which he shared with many. Only his Carbuncle - who remained at his side today. A slight purr from the Carbuncle was a gentle comfort - but not one which ever mended the pain in his heart.

But then he stopped - his legs still moving until he was nearby, only but a few steps from her.

For, away from those who he had come with, he saw a familiar figure. One he had not seen for many moons - due to the moon.

An illusion - or an adventurer dressed and looking just as her? (There'd been a lot of mimics recently. He wondered why.) Before he could think it though, say anything, the golden tinted Carbuncle ran off towards Moenbryda - to flop by her, letting out adorable yips as if he were back as a Miqo'te and trying to get the attention of somebody at the Arcanists' Guild. (He could talk, but talking Carbuncle was usually enough to freak out people. And hey. She looked pretty nice, and Urianger was staring harder then he'd expected for anybody. Under his goggles, his dull gold eyes were laser-focused on her.) ]

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...You know of other worlds?

[ He lets out a sigh. These were things he wanted to tell his Moenbryda. Warn her of the future, so that she could be prepared. But he never got to. And she died. ]

I... was born in another. And-- killed. [ By her hand - her very Aether. But why does he sound happy? ] I-- as I faded, a strange man came to me. One who seemed Eorzean, but spoke in odd manners.

...He offered me life in exchange for aiding his sister, and I accepted. My rebirth was as this man - and I was shown the brightness of those who walk the path of Light. [ That all he had learned before was a lie. Well, it was not a lie, but he did not expect those with mortal lives to live so... freely. Happily.

But his story of an odd man and being given life... does it not mirror what Miscarlet had told her? He doesn't know that his quest is to fail. His quest to stop the deaths. ]

Aye. [ She murmurs, confirming that she knows of them. Though his answer doesn't put her mind at ease any as she recalls Alisaie's words from before.

The Urianger of this world still wasn't safe. The question remained however if this was this world's invaded by another host or if there was something more foul at play here.

He speaks and she listens, as she tends to do with him, even if she wanted to spend her time feeling both sorry for herself and reflecting on everything that's been said so far. ]

You accepted, just like that? [ Of course he did: he's an Ascian. ]

...Aye. I was--

I was afraid of death.

[ He still is. It is something an Ascian can never understand. He tries his hardest to hide his confusion over emotions, but...

...He then sighs again, and slides off his goggles. They were fogging up due to just how emotional he was getting. ]

At first, it was simple revenge I desired. But the mind of a Spoken works oddly. [ To him. He felt affection almost straight away. ]

I desired to protect you, once I knew what you were - that you were not one who were twisted by the hands of monsters, but... the warmest Light that may shine. [ He can't help it. He loves her. But not her? Another her. It was confusing. ] I knew you were to pass to the hands of... what I was. If I could change it - perhaps my life held purpose.

[ A slight pause, as he wrings his hands again. ]

...But your death came, before any Paragon would seek power from a weapon still wielded. And with it... I knew not what to do.

[ And for these past five years, that is all he's done. Try to find a new purpose, living from day to day. He almost thought this could be purpose...

...But he'll do whatever she desires. Even if she simply asks him to leave her or kill her on any other day. Another had put their tendrils (or hands) on her. Perhaps it was one she cared for more then him. ]

Haven't you the faintest idea on how twisted you sound? [ She doesn't mean to be rude and even though her words have an edge to them, they're spoken gently with the exasperation she often carried on with in her conversations with him. ]

Geez... it's really something. If only we knew that an Ascian's weakness was not a blade of aether, but love, we would have let Thancred seduce the lot of you.

[ ... maybe not Thancred, but the sentiment remains the same. ]

Edited 2016-08-29 10:22 (UTC)

...Not all Ascian.

[ just add a hashtag. ]

I could not feel those feelings before. And I doubt the former host of Lahabrea could seduce well enough.

[ He had tried to warn him to be careful... for he had heard what happened from Lahabrea. But it didn't help. A pause, however, before he adds: ] I've been trying to construct mine own blade of aether. To end...

[ ...Himself? Give the knowledge to those he cares for, and then create his own. But he'd also need to locate White Auracite - and that would be a hard task, especially with no contact who trusted him with something so rare. ]

[ That's right. Thancred had a spot of trouble with an Ascian prior to her arrival in Eorzea. The other Scions wouldn't speak of it with her when she asked and no matter how much liquor the poor man downed, his lips remained seal on the matter. ]

To end the task I left unfinished in this world? [ Of course she's moved on from thoughts of ending one's self right onto something else. ]

I doubt I had much time to pursue my studies if I came to Eorzea with the lot of you.

Nay. You spent much more time assisting us with the duty of the Primal threat - your skills were... helpful. [ And he always followed, except when he had to distract or assist others.

For he used his knowledge to help everybody, while saying it came from but books. Usually following those who had knowledge of who he was - Louisoix or his Moenbryda. (Who this isn't.) As he spoke, though, he stood from his chair... to grab one of the flowers hanging from the bed, placing it to her axe.

But he gives a nod. ]

I know not if what I were exists here. I have not heard the sirens' call of Zodiark, though I have felt the presence of others. [ He says, as he looks to one of the walls. As if he was focusing for a moment. The presence he could feel vanished, however... (Yes, Miscarlet has been spying, and realizing what world this is. At the eyes of his other, he has vanished - leaving only traces of his aether.) ] If they come to harm the Archons - I will end them. The process is one hard for but one who studied other paths.

[ Helpful? In what manner? It wasn't as though she were a gifted scholar if she traveled with their mentor at that point of time―unless she had studied much harder as a child. With an Ascian at her side, it was possible he groomed her to suit his needs and argh! It wasn't like her to wish for a hero to come storming through but right about now she would have liked Miscarlet to have done so. Being near Nabriales was a danger, no matter what affection he may have felt for her.

Fleeting affection, that was. Now that he knows she's from another world and not the one he lost, he may take his frustration out on her.

(Didn't she want that just moments ago?)

She watches him carefully, wondering if it were true. A world without the Ascian threat... well, so long as Zodiark was dormant (or non-existent), then perhaps this world could be spared of it. Then what of him? What would he do once those around him passed? ]

You would fight your own brethren to protect... your brethren? [ That's weird to say. ]

[ If he were to take out that frustration, he would have done it by now.

But instead, he lets out a small laugh. Filled with the sound of regret. ] They are not mine brethren - no more do I wear the mask of Paragon. Our dearest mentor taught me to...

[ And then, the sorrow-filled expression returned, as he looked to the axe, then to her face. ] He taught me to live as Spoken. I feel no connection to them - nor to many who roam and live.

[ As if the gears in his brain had stopped quite suddenly, he suddenly stopped slouching, and sat up straight. His eyes closed, and his frown deepened. ]

I am an outsider to all.
Perhaps that is why they were so quick to allow me to remain with the Waking Sands, as they moved to greener - safer - pastures.

[ To the Rising Stones. The movement was not quite done - still more to move, which was safe to do so. Perhaps if she'd been with him, he would have been moved? ]

Who would ever deny you after all that you have done? Certainly not your comrades.

[ Even now, he's willing to fight the Ascians alone in order to protect them. Forcing herself to sit up fully in the bed, she reaches beyond the axe and towards his face with her fingers. ]

I doubt they view you as an outsider.

...It's been five years since I've done much for the goals of many.

[ He then admits, as he lets her touch him - moving to touch her back with his hand before remembering that one had lost his fingers (it didn't hurt) before using his other. He still needed to figure out what he could do for his other hand. ] Though my research still carries on...

[ Is that a little smile, as he looks to her, a slight blush on his cheeks? It is. He never knew quite how to mourn. The body of a Spoken ages much quicker then and Ascian, so he would have seen five years as but a moment before. But the pain and confusion seemed to never fade. ]

...What sweet lies I thought I'd found.

... Reality is cruel, is it not? [ For what it's worth, she's apologetic for all of this. It isn't easy for her to safe soft things, so she says it with the touch of her fingers instead. ]

Though it wasn't my intention to deceive you, I feel as though I have all the same.

[ All he needs to do is nod at first, as he embraces her touch. He would move to sitting in the bed, but... she had her soul there, between then. Her axe.

A small smirk. She always did hold onto it. But then, he stood again, moving to a closet nearby. And from it? He retrieved a second axe, still burned. Barely able to be held without seeming to crumble - it was hers. It is all he had left of her.

But he felt as if he didn't need to say it, as he placed it by him as he returned to sitting. As if it would help him remember this wasn't her. ]

Death... is final. But another cruelty of being alive - that is something I still have trouble understanding.

...I should not have been fooled. But... what are you, if you are not the one who vanished?

[ Other then a soul bound to an object. His natural curiosity was re-entering his mind. ]

Moen. [ She responds with the best answer she could give as she looks between him and the other axe, sighing after a moment has passed. ]

I was wondering if you knew how to handle a weapon. Your hand, you're hurt. [ He could carry that one around, but not the one between them. ] You always were so foolish...

[ As if that alone could answer as to how he was tricked in the first place. ]

I... was trying to sense you. Your body feels hollow, more as a Mammet then...

[ Then a person. ] But I could not if I remained in the form of a Spoken - my powers limited. I should not have been so hasty to follow dreams - for my eyes were blind to our realm.

[ But he looks to the hand. Hah, his questions must seem stupid now. She'd understand. He had told her everything. But even though his mind told him he should not trust her, his heart pined. ] Hm... it should have a lingering pain?

[ She pouts a bit at that. ] Hollow? As a mammet?

[ Bringing her hands to her chest to rest below her collarbone. ] As I am? Surely there's a better comparison!

[ Hold that thought about your hand, Nabriales!Urianger. You just compared your not-dead-ex-girlfriend to a tiny robot. ]

[ ~~hey mammets are cool id love to be one - nero, probably.~~
This is when he gives a slight blush, of embarrassment. ]

Perhaps there is - I mean not to say you are fragile as one.
There is stories of one who holds a weapon as their soul. One of strength and awe, roaming their lands to tend to deeds unfit of long ago. Though the body they hold is an illusion of the last to cause it to fall, it can roam freely with that knowledge and power.

[ A pause. ]

The Elder Primal, Zantetsuken. But the term used in this Era is Odin. Perhaps you mirror them, as a being of Light. There are rumours of new Primal, who seek not to destroy but to aid. But no others have seen signs of them. Could it relate to you and your state?

[ (Papayda is good at hiding.) But he's realizing he's going on a bit too much, and then goes to place a hand to her soul axe again - looking to her for permission. ]

[ Being compared to a Primal is less insulting but she's not entirely sure how to take that as a response. She might have been fishing for a compliment about her own features, but he always seemed to overlook matters of this nature unless they were in his face. ]

Does it trouble you to know this? [ She gives a nod to indicate he may touch her, before lowering her gaze completely. ] It troubles me. Not because it's my axe but because...

[ He wasn't the one to tell her. ] Nevermind that.

Does your hand not hurt? [ Ascians are strange. ]

[ Sorry, he's oblivious sometimes.

But he seems to narrow his gaze. He's figured out something. ]

You... did not consent. One with the strength - with the mind such as yours, which could figure how to destroy the un-destroyable. That you could be...

[ Fooled. Somebody must have fooled her. Well, not his her, but one who he is sure holds the same worth. But he trails off.

Oh, right. His hand. He looks to it, as his other touches the axe. Fingers running down it, wondering if she could feel the softness from his whole being. ]

No. I cannot feel pain. If it were a normal relationship - a body possessed - the one I had taken would feel pain, and I could react to their reaction. But there is no other. There is but an emptiness where suffering would hold.

[ There's the answer, however. There is no other in this body then this reformed Ascian. ]

It feels... nice. But back to the hand - then it is meant to be painful. Do fingers re-grow? [ #awkward ]

[ She had lowered her guard for someone she had trusted and in turn, now was trapped in whatever madness he pulled her along for. A madness she undoubtedly would have joined alongside him with little question; all he ever had to do was ask her to take his hand and she would. ]

No, they do not. [ Normally. But he is Ascian. One who doesn't die. Surely they are used to losing limbs when they wander too close to a warrior. ]

Though that doesn't mean you are to be without them. I couldn't leave here knowing I have left you in such a state.

...It were my fault.

[ It really was. He was too curious. Sadly, he continues to touch the axe - before moving his hand back to touch her body.

That's where she was. He stood, however, to move to the other side of the bed - and laid down. So he could gently start to place flowers in her hair, from the bed poles around them. Though he was Ascian, he could not abandon this body like his kin, those who'd shake off a limb in another way. ]

Do not blame yourself. You've... made no mistakes, Moen. You simply were to watch the fireworks of the Rising.

If I'd not wandered from those who celebrate their freedom - at a cost heavy to all - I would not have been injured.

[ He holds innocence. A man of peace, who simply wants to hold some happiness. ]

[ It was rare to be treated like this (by him of all people), so she stills her body while listening to him speak. He says to not hold herself to blame, but she blames herself for so many things. For not following after her mentor when he left the land of scholars. For not being strong enough to fend off the Ascian's attack. For not dying―that was a big one. For living when Urianger couldn't. For lowering her guard in her grief and believing that everything in this new world would be fine.

She pulls her axe just a little closer out of habit. Nabriales, Urianger―whichever of the two he was, she found herself running short on faith. ]

I couldn't stand to be around the others on this day. [ It's a heavy one for many. ] I simply wished to be alone and the beach... I thought it to be vacant with the cooler weather.

[ His voice lowers to a whisper. He can try and hold back his emotions now, as he continues to gently place flowers in her hair.

Perhaps she was simply wanting to be closer to her axe? He held no threat. But... he'd admitted so much. He probably was a threat. He was still an Ascian, and one who murdered her. (As he remembered.)

...He should leave her, as soon as he can. He doesn't deserve this. The feelings burned deep. ]

We both desired the same... simple solitude.

[ His voice is cracking again. And he simply then asks: ]

...I may leave you, if you desire. I'd not wish to...

[ He can't finish the sentence. He doesn't want her to be more hurt, but he's already fucked up. He doesn't want her to be scared, but he must have brought that on.

He would leave her if she wanted. ]

Please don't. [ She sounds so weak in saying so but it's the last thing she wants at this moment.

Even if it was damning to be near an Ascian, she found his presence to be pleasant compared to some of the others. Familiar. That was enough on days like this. ]

Perhaps in the morning when this day has passed. [ They can decide then. Until then, she will sit still and endure both flowers and his hands in her hair. ]

The morn... I can wait until then. With the morning will come the light... another year of the light brought by heartbreak.

[ He seems to be more mumbling. He stops messing with her hair soon, however, to just flop down - and let out a slight sigh. It felt wrong tonight. This emotional rollercoaster... he just wanted to rest.

Perhaps then, he would awake with this illusion gone, and Velas'to running in as his usual perky self - telling him about some new people wanting to take down Primals, and asking for knowledge. And his own feelings returning to simple fear of everybody finding out. ]

...Perhaps this is the pain we must suffer.

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