IF WE AMASS ENOUGH SHITPOSTS NO ONE CAN READ OUR SHAME

[conchy]

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[conchy]

[Now it's Lobelia's turn to look a little confused, humming in consternation. Cars, buses, trucks... He imagines they function similarly to the go karts, but perhaps one day he'll see these vehicles with his own eyes? Eternity lasts a long, long time, so anything is possible.]

From a practical standpoint, it doesn't feel much different than making forward momentum in another véhicule. Still...

[...That's not quite what Vergilius wants to hear, is it? That's not the sort of explanation that will let his mind wander. Lobelia smiles, settling on a better alternative.]

It feels freeing in the way that so few things truly are. After disembarking, it's hard not to envie birds who have the freedom to fly whenever and wherever they please.

[immortalpoet]

Mm.

[Lobelia is right. It does make his mind wonder. To think there are worlds out there where the skies are something people can traverse as easy as anything...]

[To become like a bird, and go far far away, and never have to worry about anything else ever again...]

I guess I'll...take your word for it.

[conchy]

[Ah... Did he paint too pleasant a mental image? Lobelia's smile pulls wry, squeezing the hand in his grip.]

Do you truly envision yourself moving from cage to cage for the rest of your existence? Flying isn't only for the birds, nor is freedom.

[immortalpoet]

That's what I've accepted.

[Perhaps that's a sad thing to say. But he's already at a point where he's made peace with his own wretched existence. In the end, he's only good for what might become of his dream....maybe.]

There's no such thing as freedom in the City.

[conchy]

[Is it sad? Sure, but it comes as little surprise to Lobelia. Given what he knows of the man, it's no surprise that he's kept himself behind those rusty bars by choice. There's a reason for it, he's certain, but still...]

...You've accepted the loss of your freedom for the sake of something else, non? What is so great that you would make such sacrifices?

[immortalpoet]

...

[His throat feels very dry.]

[What is so great, indeed...?]

[He closes those red eyes, looking a little pained.]

You...wouldn't understand.

[conchy]

[As much as he would love to argue otherwise, he's certain Vergilius is right. This man is a monster only by design, building up defenses and scars to protect that vulnerable, bleeding heart. Someone like himself could never understand... and yet he desires to anyway. What a number this man has done on him.

Well then, if he had to make an educated guess...]

Who are you guiding?

[That must be it, surely. What people like Vergilius live for is others, for what happiness and freedom other human beings can represent. He feels he understands the man well enough to know that much.]

[immortalpoet]

...

[Who is he guiding?]

[His voice is a little hoarse as he answers.]

A Company. [...] Sinners. [...] A young lady.

[That's the truth, really. He is their guide. And yet, its much deeper than that. Their goal, what they mean to retrieve...]

...I need to go back.

[conchy]

Je comprends.

[Lobelia delivers his answer firmly but without any particular intonation. If his dear âme soeur has a dream that must be achieved, naturally, he is going to lend him whatever aid he has. This is the man who saved him, after all, and the only thing Lobelia has left worth caring for.

With that, he lifts his head and locks eyes with Vergilius, squeezing his hand all the more tightly.]

We'll return you to the City! If it is possible to bring together strangers from an untold number of universes, then the opposite must also be true. Even this place is not so far removed from where we were that communication is impossible.

[immortalpoet]

...

[His eyes widen a little. Things have changed in Lobelia, he would have to blind his red eyes to think otherwise, but to hear him be satisfied with Vergilius returning to where he belongs...]

[He glances to the hand between them, his own fingers curling. A light, little squeeze in return.]

You have a point. They must have the technology to do so. All it would take is to reverse it. We just have to find it, though.

[conchy]

[Where else should Vergilius go than back where he needs to be? Perhaps he doesn't desire to dwell there, perhaps he never has, but that doesn't change the fact that he has work left to do. The fact that Lobelia intends to follow him there is something left unsaid, but he also expects Vergilius to, well, expect it when the time comes.

There's only so much they're capable of in this space, but he's already been instructed by a certain someone on what can be done here to bolster their strength against the birds. In the service of his dutiful guide, Lobelia will take whatever measures necessary to secure freedom for them both.]

Your induction is correct! There is no path forward without a path back. As it happens, our efforts here will bolster Monsieur Merlin's strength, a fact that may ultimately work out in our favor. Aiding him should be the first step towards our escape.

[immortalpoet]

[He stares at Lobelia for a very long moment. Perhaps he's changed his mind. Perhaps he's given up on this endeavor. Perhaps he is about to go back on his blood oath-]







Lobelia. [Now he's letting out an aggrieved little sigh. Reaching up to gently flick Lobelia in the forehead.] You said you wanted to make it difficult for Merlin. Now you say we should help him. Make up your mind.

[conchy]

Hm? Aie!

[Not his delicate, highly fragile forehead! Lobelia whines and rubs aching head, but listen up, old man. There's a method to his madness.]

It's not as nonsensical as you believe! Monsieur Merlin is quite a powerful creature, you see. If we can make use of the power he holds, which is further aided by our "activities," then we might use him to secure our route out of here. Do you understand?

[In other words, he still plans to make this difficult for Merlin... by using him. Don't place too much faith in him, Verg.]

[immortalpoet]

...Ah.

[Yeah, that's Lobelia, alright. He didn't exactly miss this aspect of him. Then again, it isn't as if he's so morally against using Merlin's capabilities for his own needs, either.]

Do you think he would allow that, though? He might be an irritating little flower of a wizard, but he feels like the crafty type.

[conchy]

The man is crafty, no doubt, but it's safe to say that our desires are not maligned with his. He wants to be trapped here no more than we do.

[And to that end, he can at least imagine Merlin working together with them, and if not...]

But of course, there is always the chance he won't willingly comply. Were that to happen, the use of force would become necessary.

[immortalpoet]

[Force, huh.]

[A brief lilt of his mouth comes, that little narrow of his eyes - a smirk.]

I'm sure you're not the type to shy away from that.

[Neither is he.]

[conchy]

[Oh, if only he could restrict himself to such sweet little smirks. Lobelia grins broadly instead, all teeth, and chuckles.]

Non, non, of course not! Ah, but I will defer to your judgment, of course.

[whatever vergie wants, vergie gets]

But if it does come to blows, I hope you'll allow me to indulge a bit.

1/2

[immortalpoet]

Indulge you?

[He closes the distance, suddenly - that bright smile is almost enthralling, and he like a moth to flame simply must get closer.]

You really want more? Ah.... [Another raspy sigh, nose brushing up against nose.] You're one of the greediest people I've ever met.

2/2

[immortalpoet]

[and then, without warning, he's pulling his hand out just so he can snake it around Lobelia's shoulders and]


[push him forward into the lake]


[:)]

See? I can be generous.

[conchy]

[Ah...? Is he really the one accused of being greedy when Vergilius is making him an offer he can't refuse? Sure, he's tired, and sure, he's sore, but he could go for another round—



.........Ah. A jest, eh? Lobelia comes up sputtering, as soaked and offended as a cat dunked in a pool. Combing a hand through his hair, Lobelia brushes it out of his face and approaches the edge of the lake with every intention of snagging Vergilius by his ankle. For once, he's not cheating by immobilizing him with audiomancy.]

Oh là là! What was that for, Vergilius? Is there something you're trying to tell me that words alone can't convey?

[Like a deep desire to get dragged into the water and slapped with a handful of mud?]

[immortalpoet]

Perhaps. Actions say louder than words, afer all.

[And sometimes you really just want to have yourself a petty little bit of fun by pushing your paramour into the water. Even in his constant misery, even he can find a bit of amusement in seeing Lobelia drenched, a kitten caught in the bathtub.]

[He won't pull his feet away. Yeah, do your best, Lobelia. He wants to see you try.]

[conchy]

[Experience tells Lobelia he won't be able to drag Vergilius into the lake without involving the use of audiomancy, but in the spirit of playing along, he'll give it a try, fastening both hands around Vergilius' ankle and sharply tugging.]

Just remember that cheating is unbecoming, mon amour. No tricks!

[His physical strength is no greater than any normal human with a physique like his, and in fact, it's pretty clear that Lobelia only stays in good physical shape for purely vain reasons. Vergilius was right to wonder if Lobelia has ever held a weapon, because his half-assed efforts here are very much proof that he hasn't.]

[immortalpoet]

What tricks? I'm just sitting here, minding my business.

[The man tugs - Vergilius seems pleased enough to ignore it, a sliver of teeth showing in his equivalent of a grin. He reaches over, hand tangling into the other's hair.]

Sometimes, you have to learn that magic and abilities isn't everything.

[conchy]

[Up until now, magic and abilities had been everything. Brute shows of force don't suit him as well as they do Vergilius, but perhaps even that isn't the correct answer.

Warm fingers spill into his hair and Lobelia tips his head to one side, a contemplative hum before he arrives at his answer with a smile pulling at his lips. Extending a hand to Vergilius palm side up, that cheerful smile pulls wider.]

Will you join me, s'il te plaît?

[Sometimes magic and abilities aren't the answer and neither is force. Will Vergilius trust him enough to take his hand?]

[immortalpoet]

...Flattery won't work on me.

[He says, a little bluntly - but he's not withdrawing his hand just yet, fingers circling over the other's wet scalp before brushing down to cup an ear.]

Politeness...I'll give a point for that, though. [And then finally, he pulls away his hand, considering for a moment, before he reaches to grasp it with a grip a little too firm.] So...fine.

[Tug him in, French man.]