[i will gib as a tweat, but you gotta go first those are the mod rules.]
Yeah. I don't...remember much about it, but I kind of do, I think. I know that doesn't make sense, but...there are places outside of my archway that maybe feel like they're familiar now instead of just being there.
[they say this as they're looking at the records in front of them and a bubble approaches them from behind.]
You find yourself on the cold hard ground, hard and sharp metal deep in your gut. To you, it's a little funny that this is what has you fall when you've battled dragons on the field for ten years. Viscount Fortemps and Lord Artoirel would apprehend your attacker and take you to the chirurgeons. As your eyelids grow heavy, blood pooling your royal blue garbs, you think about all you've done to deserve this.
Your father, the Archbishop, is dead... And at your command was his death done. Patricide. Heresy. Traitor to Ishgard. You never refuted these words, you can't. They follow you to the darkness.
You wake and subsequently become informed of the fires across the city-state, how the Knights have detained who would confess to be the arsonists. Your wounds have healed enough, so you push yourself forward. With the state of unrest, you cannot afford yourself time. This case must be solved, then the refugees be comforted.
Yet the refugees must suffer more... You had ordered them shelter at the Vault, the facility that once housed the Archbishop and his Heavens' Ward. There, you thought they would be safe, but no. They're taken hostage.
Your wounds hinder you, but you cannot. You will not let more of your people die. You will not let these zealots raze Ishgard from the inside—not when Ishgard is so close to having peace.
... All of this suffering in the name of Halone? Godly? You understand that you're merely a focal point of all that would unravel. Ishgard was built upon tattered myths—lies—and it would be hard for the people to accept. Their lives would change forever.
Unending and unbending faith shattered.
Man would show you its dark colors... Yet you look at the better.
Sometimes you get stabbed and your people blame you for everything going wrong. ]
[SOMETIMES YOU GET STABBED AND PEOPLE BLAME YOU FOR EVERYTHING, DAMN.
riff doesn't have time to answer aymeric's question about being more like themselves as this happens, but they watch the memory for a moment. when it fades, they're squinting almost angrily, trying to parse what it is they've seen. it takes a moment to process their feelings before glancing at aymeric again.]
No job comes without endeavors, but I do think I had a difficult time as interim ruler of Ishgard. 'Twould have been better if it gone to someone from good stock.
Some events would still transpire, but the people may have accepted the truth in less time... Since the temporary head of Ishgard wouldn't be the very person who send the Archbishop to his grave.
[ Sometimes patricide is the answer. ]
There's no use in mulling over the past that cannot be changed.
...I'm kinda afraid to ask if that was a purposeful thing or not, Aymeric. But I guess you're right. There's no use in mulling over the past.
[they shrug, but it's just enough that their hand briefly touches the bubble and aymeric gets...well. he gets something.
[you're alone.
the city around you has been engulfed in flames, smoke and destruction. the last of your friends has faded right from your finger tips, her hand reaching out for yours. you can't hold onto her. you can't save her.
you weren't able to save any of them. all of them...gone.
you thought you could do it this time. you thought you could stop the erasure of the place you loved, the people you loved, if only you turned back the clock one more time.
but it didn't work.
behind you, you hear footsteps approaching. a man approaches you, laughing to himself.
"Well, well. And then there was one."
you turn quickly to face him, but there isn't enough time to get away. he looks at you, holding up his fingers with a quick snap, and you feel the source of your power shatter in your pocket.
"Shit..." you say quietly, hand shaking as you hold the pieces of your hope in your palm.
"Oh, you won't be needin' that anymore," the man cackles again, leering down at you. it's just the two of you now, the city ravaged, your friends destroyed.
"The Game's over, kid. And now, so's S̷̡̞̹̬̥͉̪̳͍̜̰̲̜͗̆̕͜͝h̷̨̙̲͊ỉ̸̢̡͖̮͕̣͕͌͑́̚b̶̨͔̺͕̱͎͇͔͈̎̓̏̕ų̶̨̻͚͓̜̫̰͖̲͇̊̃͑̆̅̍͗̏̆̕͠y̵̧͓̩̱̰͕̍̔ą̶̬̘̞̗̫͆͛!"
he holds his arms high to the sky, a tyrant praising his own evildoings. thousands of creatures swirl around you, and you know this is your fault. this was your own doing, something you had a hand in creating.
it's the end. there's nothing you can do.
a beam of white light suddenly appears in the sky, rocketing down to strike the man. the blast sends you flying, tumbling backwards into the rubble as you watch the light tear him apart and purify him. as your vision clears...
...you find yourself perfectly unharmed.
"...what was that?" you ask yourself, and with a start you notice so many people around you. you're standing in the center of several white crosswalks, people going about their business and hardly paying attention to you as you frantically look around. you can't figure out what happened. you stand there, trying to remember, but you're jostled from your thoughts as a man bumps into you. it's a feeling you haven't felt in so long that it startles you. you quickly reach into your pocket for your phone, checking for your messages.
your mother's worried about you. she wants to know what time you're coming home.
"No way..." you whisper to yourself. it becomes clear to you then. you've finally made it home. you're back where you belong, but... "W-wait...hold on a sec..." you look around again, and soon the uneasy, anxious feeling grips your chest. oh no. oh no, oh no, oh no.
time passes. it's another day, and you're still trying to understand everything that's happened to you. your thoughts are so much louder than the city around you. it's nearly impossible to escape.
'...I'm the only one who made it home. My chat app's back to the way it was before the Game started. Except for the fact that F̴͍̭̦͕͒̾̌́r̸̟̟̽̈́̊͝ȅ̴̠̣̉̚͜͝t̷̮͗́̏ isn't in it. Nobody from school remembers him, and he's missing from my contacts. Same with N̵̺̻̿̔͝ͅa̸̞̜̘̳͋͒͒ģ̴̪̃̋̾ȉ̵̧̺̼͔̑͑ and B̸͉͆͊̑e̸̹͎̟̘̅͐̾̂͑a̷̬͕̖̅̏̌̎̿t̴͔̜͈͉̦̔̂, and N̶̥̓e̴͈͔͌̉́̋̚k̵̛̭͙̿̇̔ư̴͍̣̫̬̦̎̍--everyone. S̷̹̲̣̀̽̓h̵̼͈̦͐͊͊̒͘ǒ̵̼̩̲̟̓k̴̼̥̀ȃ̵̺̳̔̎͝͠, too. Even her alt's gone--like it never existed.'
you feel it more strongly than ever. that guilt. that grief. those nasty little feelings you never wanted to feel, that you thought you could escape if you could fix everything.
'There's thousands of people around me, and yet I'm all alone. I thought that, if i went back in time, I could save the city. And technically I did. Just not the way I wanted to...'
you feel your throat begin to close the longer your thoughts haunt you. your vision begins to blur, and you know you shouldn't cry in public but...who cares anymore? does it even matter? no one else will notice.
you sink to the ground, sitting in the middle with your back against a stone pedestal for a statue of a figure that waits. thousands of people go about their daily lives, unaware of the danger they had once been in, and paying no attention to you at all. the first of your tears drip onto your hands without permission.
'Was everything I did all for nothing?'
life goes on. life in this bustling, colorful city proceeds without a care in the world. but you're the only one left to notice it.
You're allowed to ask. 'Tis not something I would hide.
[ But then the memory plays and Aymeric goes silent. It's... So sad and he can only frown, only watch, as all of this happens. How lonely. When it ends, he collects his thoughts. ]
Lord Riff.
[ Maybe a testing call first to see how the resident is coping. ]
[i have no idea if my zalgo showed up in the notif but all names are zalgo'd which i'm sure is nice for aymeric. anyway wow! wow wow wow, that was not really something they wanted to watch. again. so they seem to be staring off into space for a second.
they don't have a mouth, or a nose, but they sort of startle like they just took a gasp for air and their eyes widen briefly, settling down again. okay. okay? okay.
the bubble pops.]
...anyway. [it's the kind of tone like a person uses when they are really, really on the edge of two different emotions here.]
[correct. can't hear words that riff doesn't remember! but they kind of would like to gloss over that because it's...whatever that was. but they're also aware that maybe that isn't fair, so okay. calming down.]
...this isn't the first time I've seen that. Just kinda thought it'd be a little easier the times after.
Death used to be an everyday occurrence for me, and my people, but I would never say it gets easier. 'Twas only that you've grieved once before and, when you know how you grieve, you can readily assuage the sorrow without letting it fester. Still, it is a long and painful road.
It is not the same experience as your memory, but...
[ If it helps Riff feel that they aren't weak or abnormal for reacting poorly despite seeing it a couple of times now. ]
It will not become easier forthwith, Lord Riff. You will need to face your hurts in time.
[they, like, hear what aymeric is saying but at the same time they're not entirely connected to it just yet.]
...no, I don't. [no?] I didn't even know about this until these stupid bubbles started showing up. So why do I...I don't even know if it matters anymore. Does it?
[it does because they're going to obsess over it because it's very obviously theirs, and they're missing so many context clues. the question is more asked in the kind of way a person asks in a panic when they are desperately ignoring the right answer.]
[ being told no is very funny because it's like yelling at aymeric "i will keep running and i will die with this" and he's like yeah this seems right if estinien is also your color. ]
... Let us take another breath first, then we can think through this together.
It would vary on how much you've come to terms with what happened and how you feel. If you don't, it haunts you later... It may even affect how you treat others, whether you realize it or not.
When I was young, there were times where I would speak out of place… Due to the frustration spawned from the hushed yet clear rumors of my birth. ‘Twas quite unbecoming of a noble and reflected poorly of my house.
[ basically
he was fucking emo and had daddy issues, so sometimes he was rude. ]
...I dunno, dude. Kinda sounds like those rumors were unbecoming on all of those people and reflected poorly on them, too, for spreading it. I think I can understand the frustration.
[they are now moving away from the point, but talking about aymeric is a little more interesting to them at the moment.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
saturations) wrote2022-02-14 03:52 pm
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Yeah. I think that's why I like it so much. Something to energize you when you need it most.
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Does it take you to a place or a person?
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A place, I think. Like...maybe somewhere different than this. A really busy place full of people and life.
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[ do i get a memshare....... on this very late sunday. ]
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Yeah. I don't...remember much about it, but I kind of do, I think. I know that doesn't make sense, but...there are places outside of my archway that maybe feel like they're familiar now instead of just being there.
[they say this as they're looking at the records in front of them and a bubble approaches them from behind.]
no subject
[ Aymeric is about to ask a little bit more, but dAMn. IT's A BUBBLe. Aymeric sighs... Looking at it. ]
I suppose we should get to the thick of it. Do your steel yourself, in the very case this memory is execrable, Lord Riff.
[ He touches it... And with it comes a burst of color. It's a blue color and the scene changes for a moment.
(video)
You find yourself on the cold hard ground, hard and sharp metal deep in your gut. To you, it's a little funny that this is what has you fall when you've battled dragons on the field for ten years. Viscount Fortemps and Lord Artoirel would apprehend your attacker and take you to the chirurgeons. As your eyelids grow heavy, blood pooling your royal blue garbs, you think about all you've done to deserve this.
Your father, the Archbishop, is dead... And at your command was his death done. Patricide. Heresy. Traitor to Ishgard. You never refuted these words, you can't. They follow you to the darkness.
(0:00-3:52)
You wake and subsequently become informed of the fires across the city-state, how the Knights have detained who would confess to be the arsonists. Your wounds have healed enough, so you push yourself forward. With the state of unrest, you cannot afford yourself time. This case must be solved, then the refugees be comforted.
Yet the refugees must suffer more... You had ordered them shelter at the Vault, the facility that once housed the Archbishop and his Heavens' Ward. There, you thought they would be safe, but no. They're taken hostage.
Your wounds hinder you, but you cannot. You will not let more of your people die. You will not let these zealots raze Ishgard from the inside—not when Ishgard is so close to having peace.
(3:59-5:35)
... All of this suffering in the name of Halone? Godly? You understand that you're merely a focal point of all that would unravel. Ishgard was built upon tattered myths—lies—and it would be hard for the people to accept. Their lives would change forever.
Unending and unbending faith shattered.
Yet you look at the better.
Sometimes you get stabbed and your people blame you for everything going wrong. ]
no subject
riff doesn't have time to answer aymeric's question about being more like themselves as this happens, but they watch the memory for a moment. when it fades, they're squinting almost angrily, trying to parse what it is they've seen. it takes a moment to process their feelings before glancing at aymeric again.]
...you really don't have an easy job, do you?
no subject
[ Aka better birth, but y'know. ]
no subject
Do you really think that would've made a huge difference? Maybe in how people viewed the ruler but that doesn't make them the right person.
no subject
Some events would still transpire, but the people may have accepted the truth in less time... Since the temporary head of Ishgard wouldn't be the very person who send the Archbishop to his grave.
[ Sometimes patricide is the answer. ]
There's no use in mulling over the past that cannot be changed.
no subject
[they shrug, but it's just enough that their hand briefly touches the bubble and aymeric gets...well. he gets something.
all that's left is a memory.]
no subject
[ But then the memory plays and Aymeric goes silent. It's... So sad and he can only frown, only watch, as all of this happens. How lonely. When it ends, he collects his thoughts. ]
Lord Riff.
[ Maybe a testing call first to see how the resident is coping. ]
no subject
they hear him! they really do, except:
"Lord R̶̷̸̵̢̲͍͉ͬ̀͒͒i̶̷̸̸̲͖͕ͥ̈́͆̈́ǹ̶̷̴̵̲̪̠̝̿͝d̶̷̵̸̡̲͔ͩ̽͘͝o̶̷̴̸̲̘̪̟ͦ͆͑̈́."
they don't have a mouth, or a nose, but they sort of startle like they just took a gasp for air and their eyes widen briefly, settling down again. okay. okay? okay.
the bubble pops.]
...anyway. [it's the kind of tone like a person uses when they are really, really on the edge of two different emotions here.]
no subject
I don’t wish to simply gloss over what we saw… It has caused you much distress.
[ And it would be as bad to just… Ignore that? ]
Fret not, I won’t press. Take your time, deep breaths.
no subject
...this isn't the first time I've seen that. Just kinda thought it'd be a little easier the times after.
[it is not.]
no subject
It is not the same experience as your memory, but...
[ If it helps Riff feel that they aren't weak or abnormal for reacting poorly despite seeing it a couple of times now. ]
It will not become easier forthwith, Lord Riff. You will need to face your hurts in time.
no subject
...no, I don't. [no?] I didn't even know about this until these stupid bubbles started showing up. So why do I...I don't even know if it matters anymore. Does it?
[it does because they're going to obsess over it because it's very obviously theirs, and they're missing so many context clues. the question is more asked in the kind of way a person asks in a panic when they are desperately ignoring the right answer.]
no subject
... Let us take another breath first, then we can think through this together.
no subject
...which part do we need to think through again? [help]
no subject
We can begin here: "does it matter anymore?"
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[no, that's called running away, idiot.]
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[ He hopes that makes sense. ]
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[aymeric are you okay actually?]
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When I was young, there were times where I would speak out of place… Due to the frustration spawned from the hushed yet clear rumors of my birth. ‘Twas quite unbecoming of a noble and reflected poorly of my house.
[ basically
he was fucking emo and had daddy issues, so sometimes he was rude. ]
no subject
...I dunno, dude. Kinda sounds like those rumors were unbecoming on all of those people and reflected poorly on them, too, for spreading it. I think I can understand the frustration.
[they are now moving away from the point, but talking about aymeric is a little more interesting to them at the moment.]
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