boxofkururu | new cmo

[ooc: Her info is right over here. I'm all caught up on the MSQ so I can take her from any time point so far!]

[ Haurchefant had found it... disappointing for so long. That he'd lost his body, that is. He was not like many Ascian - he was from one of the shards which had already fallen, before the birth of the Warrior of Light. Of Naltryd. He was fascinated with the concept of them, once they came to him - of life, and of the Warrior of Light. Not that he saw her as more then a person who had a burden. Just like him! (He was meant to help other Ascian bring down the Source. But that could wait - Haurchefant had plenty to see for now, and there were others who needed help.)

Perhaps Edmont had raised his bastard son well. After he had passed, Haurchefant had even only considered taking a new shell of one he cared for... for, like, a little while. But even now, he missed not just Naltryd, but everybody. And so, he had decided he would visit her - coming to the Rising Stones.

Or, at least, he wanted to. But he couldn't enter the building, his hands trembling. Charms to prevent his sort? He'd expect it, honestly. From what he's heard from other Ascian - others who've fallen and been destroyed - they needed to ward them off.

But there is a presence outside, a flicker of Light. One which seemed dangerous, that shouldn't be there. And an excess of Aether. He'd kept himself cloaked, but the distortion is quite sense-able to a Monk. ]

[The war was finally over. She hadn't fought centuries of it like the main combatants had, but it certainly felt like she had. As relieved as she'd been--still is--Naltryd was only half present at the subsequent celebrations. She knew how to put on a smile and actually did enjoy herself, but more than anything, she was still exhausted.

It's one of those usual nights where she wants nothing more to sleep but her mind won't stop buzzing that she feels it. There's something there that shouldn't be. It was the same feeling she'd had during the fight with Nidhogg, when she had almost sunken into despair before she swore she saw him there. He who gave her the final push she needed. A hallucination, she was sure, but tinged with...

Why would it have that near unmistakable feel of Ascian? Why would he? Why is she feeling it again? Naltryd pulls on her armor with practiced ease before slipping down the quiet halls of the Rising Stones. While she doesn't see anything at first, she focuses on the aether, letting it guide her.]

Edited 2017-03-27 18:09 (UTC)

[ It didn't take long for Haurchefant to feel worried. Would that his dear friend - any of his dear friends - could rest easy. The war was over! There should be much time to rest.

But as soon as he's lured her off, so that he can appear... there he is, cloaked in white and hiding his face. A second Ascian cloaked in white, his frown visible. His mask was one not seen before - clearly one which had only just decided to make themselves known to everybody.

(Haurchefant knows he should smile. But he's scared. Perhaps he'll be banished? Oh, that'd be interesting. To fall to the hand of one of those he cares for so very deeply.)

When he speaks, however, the voice is familiar - and there is confidence dripping from every single sound. ]

...I've a question for you.

[It's good, she thinks at first, that she's clad herself in armor before leaving the building. Unfamiliar as the mask is, an Ascian is an Ascian and she immediately and naturally falls into a battle stance upon seeing him. The white robes are strange as well; she's only seen them once before, but this isn't the same person.

Then he opens his mouth, and she immediately falters. Naltryd remembers that voice all too well, but there's no way she can be hearing it now, can there?]

Who--

A friend. [ It slips out, before he realises it. But he was a friend - still is. He cares so deeply - even if he takes a few steps backwards. If he had to fight... no, he couldn't. His stance remained hauntingly familiar, the sort he'd use as if he were still alive. Standing there, as he would before.

He can't help but repeat it, the words sounding so... splendid. ]

...A friend.

Ask your question, Ascian. Then I will ask mine.

[Naltryd wills her voice to be as steady as she can, but there's still a waver to it. He's hauntingly (quite literally so) familiar. If she closed her eyes--

But that's the last thing she can do, as a warrior. Naltryd reminds herself that this isn't the first time she's heard a familiar voice come from this sort of otherworldly being. By nature, they had to possess mortal bodies, didn't they?

(But then how, if he's long since perished...?)]

[ Haurchefant sharply inhales, before looking straight into Naltryds' eyes. He knew this worry was something almost stupid, but those without the Echo wouldn't understand him.

He couldn't just ask him himself. ]

It is fine if you cannot answer, but-- Is Fran-- Lord Francel doing okay?

[ ...smooth. But, deep inside, Haurchefant knew he couldn't ask if she was doing okay, not at first. That would be far too strange, even for him, right now. But he had to resist the urge to begin to pace as they talked. ]

[It's so terribly Haurchefant for him to ask such a question right away, and her heart aches even more. Who is this impostor taking the form of the elezen she'd come to care for so deeply, wielding voice, posture, and personality far too perfectly?]

Lord Francel...he fares well enough. He's--fine. Fine as he can be after...

[Naltryd doesn't realize she's been biting at her lip until she feels the unmistakable tang of blood on her tongue.]

Now, my question. How dare you take the body of the dead? Who are you, really?

[ ...Of course he would be seen as an imposter. What else would he be? An imposter Ishgardian, and now he has lost even that.

And yet, there's no anger in his voice. He's hurt so many by not telling the truth, but if he did speak it, he would have been seen as crazy.

His next words needed to be chosen carefully. At least, that was what he thought until he saw a small dribble of blood and flinched, shaking his head.

If his appearance could cause this distress-- no. He was staying, to help. Let the rest of the world be damned. ]

...I'm glad. I'd not want him to fall to dispair, you know - who would want any of their dear friends to do the same?

[ His rambling was to calm his own tongue. He still found the idea of being buried a little gross, okay. Or possessing a body like that - for an Ascian, he was odd. ]

And I've taken no body. You can check, if you wish - no scars nor rot have afflicted this skin. Quite different to what's... buried... overlooking Ishgard.

I don't understand. What do you want from me? Why, if you haven't taken his body, are you taking his form? Why is your aether so different from the others like you?

[That's plenty more than one question, Naltryd. But could you blame her? It was only after this war and that vision of Haurchefant giving her the strength she needed that she felt that perhaps she might be able to move on. Or at least, start to. Her heart had never really healed since that day at the Vault.]

[ He expected questions. But he feels he needs to look away a little as he answers - for he is ashamed. Both that he lied before, and now that he could not remain at the sidelines.

...It's time for that one answer, as he removes his mask, a little carefully. He doesn't want to break it, after all, even if his hands feel so heavy. ]

...I'm taking no form but my own, dear Naltryd.

...Haurchefant.

[Her fists lower, stance dropped. There was no way, but his voice, his face, those blue orbs staring into her. This was and wasn't Haurchefant.]

You can't be him. He died.

...I died.

[ If he'd be allowed, Haurchefant is going to take one of her hands - and place it to where the spear stuck though him, onto the white Ascian robed which covered him. Much different to the armour he'd rather wear. Even if he's not scarred, he still... the memories linger, the burning pain. Every word seems to linger on his soft lips, his eyes burning with an anger and sadness unrestrained. ]

I know it's wrong to linger - to return. My lord told me not to. But I worry for all of you - for my men of Camp Dragonhead, for my family and friends. And for you.

I don't... I don't understand.

[As if that's anything new. Every time Naltryd thought things were making some sort of sense, something would happen to throw everything she knew out the window. This? This might just be the worst of it.

Her instincts tell her to pull away when her hand is taken, but her heart overrides it. Naltryd can sense that pain when her hand is placed up against his chest. The memories she's tried so hard to bury come flooding back, and when she looks up at him again, there are tears gathered at the edges of her eyes.]

It cannot be.

[ He gulped. No, he didn't desire tears - not again. But he could not simply ask for another smile, could he? His fingers of his other hand trembling, he couldn't help but move to wipe at those tears.

But as he did, he couldn't help but look pained. ]

Shall we sit? I can try and explain - if you want. I'm quite sure there must be somewhere to rest around here...

[ Though he doesn't know where to begin with who-- what he is. Other then the obvious. ]

[Even his touch feels warm. There's a light to him so unlike the darkness in other Ascians. Naltryd swallows hard, nodding for him to follow her. There's an out of the way bench near the building, where she doubts anyone will come across them at this point of night.

She sits down, not quite looking back up at him yet.]

Explain.

[ And so, he removes his hood, as to let his face look... as it was before. His voice is near a whisper - worried that others may hear, even if his tongue is misunderstood. ]

As... you can see clearly, I'm a Paragon.[ He uses that term for them? It sounds a lot more fitting for him then Ascian - he never truly felt as if he fit their role. ] I came to this land to take the role of one to aid in manipulating Ishgard - a task I discarded quickly, once I found how wonderfully splendid everybody was.

[ He can't help but chuckle - sadly - as he keeps his gaze focused. Francel began this path, as did Edmont. But more and more people showed him light. But he muses to himself, however, tapping his fingers against his legs. ]

...I never said I was a good Paragon. Perhaps because I came from somewhere which lacked Light...

A Paragon? I've never...heard of such a thing. Who do you work for? How did you... Was there ever another Haurchefant whose body you inhabited?

[None of this makes sense. Part of her wishes to just throw her arms around the man and cry, but the situation leaves her too baffled to do that. It hasn't fully set in yet.]

...I'm the only Haurchefant there is. Please - there could never be another like me.

[ He pauses, softly, leaning backwards. ]

I suppose the native word for them is Ascian. I always forget.

No. There...never could be another like Haurchefant. Like...

[Like you, she wants to say, but she's too scared to let the words fall off her tongue. Naltryd can fell gods and stand up against an empire, but to come face to face with what feels like the ghost of one of her dearest friends is what paralyzes her with fear.]

I want to believe you. Every part of logic is telling me not to. For all I'm aware, this could simply be a trap. You could just be an illusion. Yet still, I want to believe.

[ Softly, he places a hand to her once more. A smile on his lips, as he looks upwards to the skies. ]

Then believe. I promise not to harm you - I'm tired of the fight. We stopped Nidhogg - we both deserve rest.

I still have so many questions. I still do not understand.

[But finally, she lets herself fall. She truly does need rest.

Her arms wrap around Haurchefant's shoulders, and she pulls the elezen into a tight hug. It's funny how he even smells almost the same, which shouldn't make any logical sense, and yet there it is. Maybe it's her mind being clouded by nostalgia, maybe it's because it's just what she wants to believe, but for this moment, she doesn't care.]

[ A hug...

Haurchefant missed this, wrapping his long Elezen arms around her - before moving to give her forehead a soft kiss.

But he can't help but whisper, speak more, everything weighing down on him. He's done something he shouldn't. ]

Moments like this are splendid, are they not?

Moments like this are what I fight for.

[She takes a deep, shuddering breath, holding him tighter. Naltryd clings to him almost as if a child, needing to be reassured by the solid feel of his body against her own. To actually feel that he's real, that he's there.]

Haurchefant...

Have a Warrior of Light to do whatever with :D

have trash :B

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