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noctiumrp
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TEXT ✧ AUDIO ✧ VIDEO ✧ ACTION
SUMMER ICARIAN ✦ FINAL FANTASY XIV (WoL OC)
RESIDENCE ✦ Residency
GEMBOND ✦ Ruby
"...ltros, what are you doing with that, put that down right now you little —"
RESIDENCE ✦ Residency
GEMBOND ✦ Ruby
"...ltros, what are you doing with that, put that down right now you little —"
no subject
[ In which case.. another thing for which he can be glad, for her. It is not something he has, nor thinks himself ever likely to have, though there is part of him that might wish it. ]
no subject
[A quiet hum.]
But it's a little overwhelming, to live in a world of boots and suddenly find an arm.
no subject
I... imagine so.
[ An act of imagination, truly, because it certainly hasn't happened in his experience. He clasps his hands lightly behind his back. He's not sure what brought this topic on, but he looks down at her, offering as much of a smile as he ever manages. ]
But a good thing for you, aye? So I'm glad to hear you've found such a surprise in your boot rack.
Though I s'pose harder, for you to be away from them.
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[She glances sidelong back at Ezar, a faint wrinkle in her brow as she regards him thoughtfully. She's not usually one to admit to being wrong, but in this case, she does it freely. It's funny how, ambling along like this, she can almost imagine a white coat and black sleeves and a roguish grin framing an accent straight off the streets of Limsa Lominsa.
If she could have just one of them —
No. No, she can't make choices like that. Not when there's too many "just one"s to choose from, and she's already lucky enough to have G'raha Tia already here and waiting for her.
But there's something unique in the way she misses Thancred by comparison to the others. Like just the sight of him sets something anxious and feral in her at ease, because where Thancred is, safety follows.]
No arms for you, then? You don't have to say anything more than yes or no. 'Tis only idle wondering.
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[ Particularly when you've none of your own. He's already got enough to be bitter about that's of his own making; he doesn't need to borrow from others.
He lets the silence stretch again at the question, looking straight ahead. ]
No.
[ Another hesitation, as he tries to decide if he should say more than that, chewing the words over. Perhaps it's a residual factor of whatever the hells that synch had been, making him trust Summer far more than he ought to. Maybe he's just too tired after a decade of holding all of this in, and his conversation a couple of weeks ago with Scully had already put a crack in his reserve. ]
Too dangerous.
no subject
[Because this, too, is dangerous. This is Ezar volunteering information that he didn't have to, taking a risk that's likely against his better judgment to take, and if she's not careful, she might well make him regret that confidence, and then he won't do it again.
Hmm.]
I think doing things alone because there's no other choice is a self-fulfilling prophecy. One that's hard to get a second point of view on, because there's nobody else but you to view it.
[She shrugs a little.]
When you live your whole life with no arms, it's hard to imagine what you could do if you had two of them.
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[ There is so much he wants to say, suddenly, the words gathered so thick in his throat that he feels like he's choking on them. How he still wishes so desperately at times that he could get another view on things, but he can't because then there would be too many questions. How he tries to imagine what it would be like, all the time, and yet cannot form a clear vision because he doesn't know who he would be, had he never left home; not himself, any more, it almost feels like, though who the hell is he anyway?
He's so bloody lonely. And he didn't feel it, not like this, not before he came to this place and Aerith reminded him what it was like, a little, to have a family, and now Summer's talking to him like they might be friends and he doesn't know what to make of any of it.
Have all of his burdens passed, because he's dead? Maybe this is what the afterlife is actually like, and he's just overthinking it.
And of all things, that last is what's easiest to untangle and give voice to, ridiculously, an abrupt change of topic that doesn't feel abrupt to him because he can hear the screaming of his own thoughts. ]
D'ya think this is some kind of afterlife, here? Aerith says it's just another world of the sort people are taken to all the time, but she's also not from Eorzea.
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[This metaphor has gotten SO WEIRD.
But then he brings up the afterlife, and she actually stops still in her tracks at that, almost causing Ultros to smack into her ankles as he squishes and blurbles along behind. Because — she'd know, wouldn't she? She'd know because...because...]
I don't think so. I hope not.
[.................]
Who's Aerith?
[UH-OH.]
no subject
[ Though it's also a habit, he supposes.
Summer's reaction causes him to rethink what he asked, from a different angle. Too much in his own head, he supposes. Because if it were some kind of afterlife, then everyone would have to be dead, and... seems like Summer isn't. Aerith says she isn't. And for himself...
He still doesn't know how to think about it. He always thought being dead would be a relief, an end. And so far it hasn't been, but he has no one to talk that over with, either. ]
Ah... dumb thing to say. Pay me no mind.
[ ...oh shit. ]
My friend. Here. [ He looks away, shrugging. ]
no subject
[Scratch that. Now the metaphor has officially gotten SO WEIRD. Besides, pivoting to this talk of Ezar's friend is far, far more interesting.]
Well, you know what I'm going to ask about her already, don't you? Boots or arms?
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And I'm glad for you in that, too.
[ Because even this weird shit is better than her asking about Aerith. Hells. ]
Dunno. Not been here but a month. But...
[ There are so many ways Summer reminds him rather eerily of Aerith, from her refusal to accept his sullen silences to the absolutely bizarre shit she says, seemingly at random.
But.
But Aerith has something she doesn't, through no fault of hers. Aerith called his soul, and he could not help but answer, because some things cannot be forgotten no matter how many years have passed. Aerith knows what it is to be hunted, to be at best a curiosity hiding in plain sight, to harbor secrets that people have killed and died for and run until exhaustion threatened to claim her.
She's a small echo of the home he's permanently lost. Someone his spirit knew was family long before he could admit to himself.
And he cannot possibly say any of these things to Summer, because it would open him to too many questions he can't answer. ]
Anyone laid a hand on her, I'd kill 'em. So... I suppose aye.
[ Easier for a soldier to put things in terms of violence. Let her read him as an overprotective male and nothing more. ]
no subject
[And she doesn't press it, because she really has no reason to. Files the name away for later, maybe, just in case she should happen to meet someone by the name of Aerith around on happenstance, but he hardly has to spell out that pushing any further down this particular path will only put him on the defensive.]
Speaking of, are you still planning on making certain my mate doesn't beat me? Or have you mostly dropped that particular notion by now?
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I recall you tellin' me 'tweren't none of my business.
[ And then very dryly: ]
'sides, be a fair challenge for a man with no arms to be beatin' you.
no subject
Or "booting" me, for that matter.
[She says, and dissolves into giggling again.]
what has this become
That was weak. You're gonna have to try harder making puns aboot that.
[ Deadpan. But his ears wiggle. ]