[Poor, poor thing. So long as Vergilius remembers some part of this conversation by it and is duly embarrassed by it, Lobelia's needs are met.]
You'll understand when you're older. [HEHE HON HON HON] Until then, remember that falling in love is as inevitable as getting ill. Tenez-vous bien until then, will you?
[Ah, and one more thing...]
Give my regards to demoiselle Lapis. I hope you'll introduce her to me some day.
[Oh...? And here he was prepared to let his young wife lop his head off. The memory fizzles out right before impact and all Lobelia can do is sigh in disappointment, gazing upon Vergilius with a certain noxiously saccharine fondness. Some things never change.]
You were quite striking even in your youth! Si jolie! Ah, but my goodness, what painful memories you harbor. There really is quite a bit of work left to be done, non?
[.....The moment the wheels turned. Both then, and in the past. The painting that would lead them down a corridor to a bitter end, made in honor of his fraying gaze...]
[Another sigh.]
Any Fixer worth their salt probably has memories like that. I'm hardly a new case.
Tsk tsk, you're much too humble! No matter what others in your position have been through, it's still important to applaud yourself for surviving this long.
[And if Vergilius won't celebrate his own successes, that's just as well. He has a very loyal simp cheerleader at his beck and call now.]
Je suis fier de toi. Maybe one day you'll acknowledge the value of your own resilience.
[What choice is there to be made when you are forced to choose?
No... Lobelia understands, or at least he believes so. Vergilius could have chosen to succumb, to give in far sooner and become nothing as opposed to the force of nature he's fashioned himself into. Still... seeing the distance in Vergilius' eyes, Lobelia quietly beseeches him.]
[Lobelia clicks his tongue, once again searching for anything else that may be lurking within the void, but he finds nothing. Surely, then, the path forward must also be the path out.]
[Lobelia has gone deeper than most people have with him. He still doesn't understand how it happened. He's seen him at his worst. Seen him at his best.]
[The girl in his care would be hidden from most, but here, he gives a sigh, glancing back over his shoulder.]
[Charon... Lobelia doesn't know what change occurred in her to turn Lapis into Charon, but what matters more is that she continues to exist. She's one of the reasons Vergilius persists, isn't she? His reason for moving forward.]
I'll return you to her. Je promets.
[Lobelia can only be fond of someone who brings happiness to the person who matters most to him. If he can do nothing for Vergilius, then let it be returning him to the place he belongs with the one who brings him as close to happiness as he can get.]
[Un coeur pour un coeur. A fair exchange, as Lobelia sees it, having found his happiness and existing only to pursue Vergilius'.
When that hand is extended to him, his brows arch slightly in surprise, but he doesn't hesitate to take it. As ever, as always, his hand is warm and grounding. Wherever Vergilius leads, Lobelia will follow.]
[A horrific lab, with children in large glass cases. A large red glowing egg-like jewel stuck bizarrely in the middle of the room. The name of it is Garnet. The young man it used to be was named Garnet. You know, because you gave him your gladius before you all entered this lab. Now that gladius lays uselessly on the floor.]
[Strange fleshy grey creatures crawl towards you - one of which runs towards you faster than the rest, as if in a panicked manner. You could hear the clicking sound of its teeth, clustered in a thin layer. Surrounding the teeth is a bundle of threads clumped together like dandelion flower seeds. But they are not pure white, but a gray that has forgotten sunlight. Perhaps these flower seeds will never soar through the wind. They are too heavy to fly away like cotton wool.]
[So you take up your sword, heat your gladius, and strike the scorching blade directly into its "mouth". A strange moaning sounded simultaneous to the searing of the heat, and a terrible burning smell spread. The red-hot gladius appeared to have sealed the mouth of this greedy one. Yet the eyes of this thing still look directly at you, and its mouth, which refused to close, constantly prods at you. This thing does not know how to give up. It has no patience. It is filled only with the desire to chew and swallow.]
["The Red Gaze... You don't seem to know, don't you? This thing's true identity... Shall I tell you what it is?""]
[The feminine Maestro from the auction from before is struggling to stand, clearly wounded. You look over at him, and then glance back towards the creature.]
[t has several feet attached to it. Bare feet. They're completely swollen, as if wandering from place to place.]
[On its feet, an unusual piece of cloth clings to them. It's a fabric with a jumble of blue and black patterns. You had seen that before. You had seen a child in the orphanage wearing it to hide a large scar on her ankle caused by broken glass. It belonged to a certain child from the orphanage.]
[The blood loss, stopped by the cauterization, doesn't lead to its death. Instead, it slumps down and cowers, yet it never stops crawling. So it can reach you. Its cries echo through the room, and the lumps of flesh writhe senselessly. A warm, raw feeling travels down your fingertips.]
[Like a warm, warm hand, held by a child.]
[Like a warm hand, held by a lover.]
[Vergilius feels like he's holding on for dear life on the warmth that Lobelia gives him.]
[...Dreadful. Nothing is sacred and nothing is pure, is it? Nothing left untouched by the red hand of death, and yet there's no forgetting the warmth exuded by others. Lobelia doesn't let go of Vergilius' hand, not once, feeling that fear as if it were his own.
This is what it feels like to be human. This is what it feels like to love and lose and fear. Lobelia takes no joy in reliving Vergilius' pain, but in the dark corners of his mind, he's drawn to his agony. These are feelings he's felt only briefly, as transient as a gust of wind, but these memories? These feelings? They're much more solid things. Pain he can twine his fingers in between, rough and scarred, and hold onto for dear life. This pain belongs not only to Vergilius, but now to himself as well.
The memory distances him from Vergilius, but Lobelia never loses his grip on the hand held tightly in his own. He won't, having promised to bring Vergilius happiness just as he'd once promised his parents he would secure it for himself. If someone like himself, void of true human emotion, can find fulfillment, so too can Vergilius. Given enough time and patience, he'll feel the sun alight on his skin again and warm him. Until that day comes, Lobelia will be ever at his side.]
[He hopes its done. He has a feeling it is. After that, a shaky sigh stutters out of his mouth, glancing down at their hands, intertwined.]
[He never thought he'd feel such overwhelming relief to have someone at his side like this, a tether to reason coming from a man he never thought would be. And yet, he feels it regardless.]
[How odd, to feel grateful for someone like Lobelia.]
[Was reopening old wounds beneficial to Merlin? Lobelia sure hopes it was, and moreover, he hopes something productive comes of all this. If not? Merlin better start running now.]
Allow me to join you! Still, let's find out what use this little aventure was in terms of securing our path out of here. [...] I'll speak with him.
[Might spare Merlin another death if the calmer of the two addresses this "issue" with him. Sometimes putting your wife on the phone to yell at the unpaid intern manning the graveyard is a bad idea.]
[Poor thing... Honestly, the garden was much better than this pitch black void, but affirming his grip on Vergilius' hand, Lobelia continues onward. Supposing this place has no more memories to scar them with, the magic should give out and return them to where they were before.]
This place can't have much more to show us, can it? I believe a sieste is in order.
[Lobelia is fine, more or less, but he'll insist on Vergilius getting some rest.]
[He almost has half a mind to ask why he gets the brunt of it over Lobelia, but Lobelia probably didn't regret much at all besides that one memory. Everything else was likely the same old destruction as expected.]
Mm. [He leans into Lobelia, shoulders knocking against each other.] I hope this wasn't all a waste.
[There's little Lobelia regrets, the worst of his memories and experiences exposed to Vergilius, and the rest is nothing he minds talking about. LOBELIA HAS MAYBE AN HOUR OF CONTENT TO HIS NAME Still, there will be time for that later, the space around them gradually shifting, warping, to spit them back out into the forest where they began.]
Now now, I wouldn't trouble yourself with such thoughts. Merlin will no doubt benefit in some form of another, but for now...
[Lobelia squeezes Vergilius' hand, leaning in to press his lips to his temple.]
Retournons. I will have a word with Merlin later, but for the time being, you need rest! [Then, playfully—] Would you like me to carry you? Heheh!
[more lobelia for the lobelia freaks like me i say]
[And of course they're back in the forest. The eyebags under Vergilius's vivid eyes seem deeper than ever thought possible - though perhaps, they do soften a smidgen when he feels that kiss. Ergh. Affection.]
... [He's shooting an unimpressed look down at him.] Why.
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You'll understand when you're older. [HEHE HON HON HON] Until then, remember that falling in love is as inevitable as getting ill. Tenez-vous bien until then, will you?
[Ah, and one more thing...]
Give my regards to demoiselle Lapis. I hope you'll introduce her to me some day.
1/2
[Until then.]
[A fool's notion. Isn't it best to simply nip things in the bud, here? He stares for a long moment. The gladius is hefted in his hands. He considers.]
[And considers.]
[And makes a decision. A highly logical one.]
[With no warning whatsoever, he leaps forward, his sword attempting to decapitate the other in one solid stroke.]
2/2
[Vergilius stands, back to his old self - and uses a hand to stroke over his hair with a sigh.]
Can you not leave well enough alone, even in memories?
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You were quite striking even in your youth! Si jolie! Ah, but my goodness, what painful memories you harbor. There really is quite a bit of work left to be done, non?
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[.....The moment the wheels turned. Both then, and in the past. The painting that would lead them down a corridor to a bitter end, made in honor of his fraying gaze...]
[Another sigh.]
Any Fixer worth their salt probably has memories like that. I'm hardly a new case.
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[And if Vergilius won't celebrate his own successes, that's just as well. He has a very loyal
simpcheerleader at his beck and call now.]Je suis fier de toi. Maybe one day you'll acknowledge the value of your own resilience.
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[...]
[Lapis.....]
No, I know I am. Resilient, I mean. Have to be.
[He's staring off again.]
The world you live in says a lot about who you have to choose to be. Even that young self of mine didn't have all the answers.
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[What choice is there to be made when you are forced to choose?
No... Lobelia understands, or at least he believes so. Vergilius could have chosen to succumb, to give in far sooner and become nothing as opposed to the force of nature he's fashioned himself into. Still... seeing the distance in Vergilius' eyes, Lobelia quietly beseeches him.]
You'll introduce me to her, won't you?
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[Something like a shade passes his bright eyes, a well of sorrow. He's turning away to trudge into void.]
Even if I wanted to, I couldn't.
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Why is that?
[Lobelia is certain they'll get out of here, given the efforts Merlin has made... but might there be some other reason they can't meet with the girl?]
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[He keeps going. He has to keep going. if he keeps going. maybe everything will be okay. That terrible hope.]
So that's the situation.
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...I see. But she still exists, non?
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[Lobelia has gone deeper than most people have with him. He still doesn't understand how it happened. He's seen him at his worst. Seen him at his best.]
[The girl in his care would be hidden from most, but here, he gives a sigh, glancing back over his shoulder.]
Her name is Charon.
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I'll return you to her. Je promets.
[Lobelia can only be fond of someone who brings happiness to the person who matters most to him. If he can do nothing for Vergilius, then let it be returning him to the place he belongs with the one who brings him as close to happiness as he can get.]
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[I'll return you to her.]
[Ha. What a statement that is. This man ripped out his heart before. Now he wants to preserve it.]
[Isn't that what love is about?]
[Omnia vincit amor.]
[He reaches back, with palm open.]
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When that hand is extended to him, his brows arch slightly in surprise, but he doesn't hesitate to take it. As ever, as always, his hand is warm and grounding. Wherever Vergilius leads, Lobelia will follow.]
cw: implied child death
[A horrific lab, with children in large glass cases. A large red glowing egg-like jewel stuck bizarrely in the middle of the room. The name of it is Garnet. The young man it used to be was named Garnet. You know, because you gave him your gladius before you all entered this lab. Now that gladius lays uselessly on the floor.]
[Strange fleshy grey creatures crawl towards you - one of which runs towards you faster than the rest, as if in a panicked manner. You could hear the clicking sound of its teeth, clustered in a thin layer. Surrounding the teeth is a bundle of threads clumped together like dandelion flower seeds. But they are not pure white, but a gray that has forgotten sunlight. Perhaps these flower seeds will never soar through the wind. They are too heavy to fly away like cotton wool.]
[So you take up your sword, heat your gladius, and strike the scorching blade directly into its "mouth". A strange moaning sounded simultaneous to the searing of the heat, and a terrible burning smell spread. The red-hot gladius appeared to have sealed the mouth of this greedy one. Yet the eyes of this thing still look directly at you, and its mouth, which refused to close, constantly prods at you. This thing does not know how to give up. It has no patience. It is filled only with the desire to chew and swallow.]
["The Red Gaze... You don't seem to know, don't you? This thing's true identity... Shall I tell you what it is?""]
[The feminine Maestro from the auction from before is struggling to stand, clearly wounded. You look over at him, and then glance back towards the creature.]
[t has several feet attached to it. Bare feet. They're completely swollen, as if wandering from place to place.]
[On its feet, an unusual piece of cloth clings to them.
It's a fabric with a jumble of blue and black patterns. You had seen that before.
You had seen a child in the orphanage wearing it to hide a large scar on her ankle caused by broken glass.
It belonged to a certain child from the orphanage.]
[The blood loss, stopped by the cauterization, doesn't lead to its death.
Instead, it slumps down and cowers, yet it never stops crawling. So it can reach you. Its cries echo through the room, and the lumps of flesh writhe senselessly.
A warm, raw feeling travels down your fingertips.]
[Like a warm, warm hand, held by a child.]
[Like a warm hand, held by a lover.]
[Vergilius feels like he's holding on for dear life on the warmth that Lobelia gives him.]
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This is what it feels like to be human. This is what it feels like to love and lose and fear. Lobelia takes no joy in reliving Vergilius' pain, but in the dark corners of his mind, he's drawn to his agony. These are feelings he's felt only briefly, as transient as a gust of wind, but these memories? These feelings? They're much more solid things. Pain he can twine his fingers in between, rough and scarred, and hold onto for dear life. This pain belongs not only to Vergilius, but now to himself as well.
The memory distances him from Vergilius, but Lobelia never loses his grip on the hand held tightly in his own. He won't, having promised to bring Vergilius happiness just as he'd once promised his parents he would secure it for himself. If someone like himself, void of true human emotion, can find fulfillment, so too can Vergilius. Given enough time and patience, he'll feel the sun alight on his skin again and warm him. Until that day comes, Lobelia will be ever at his side.]
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[He hopes its done. He has a feeling it is. After that, a shaky sigh stutters out of his mouth, glancing down at their hands, intertwined.]
[He never thought he'd feel such overwhelming relief to have someone at his side like this, a tether to reason coming from a man he never thought would be. And yet, he feels it regardless.]
[How odd, to feel grateful for someone like Lobelia.]
I'm really going to kill that wizard.
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Allow me to join you! Still, let's find out what use this little aventure was in terms of securing our path out of here. [...] I'll speak with him.
[Might spare Merlin another death if the calmer of the two addresses this "issue" with him. Sometimes putting your wife on the phone to yell at the unpaid intern manning the graveyard is a bad idea.]
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[He grumbles, clearly in a bad mood - please yell at Merlin for him, Lobelia. Don't let him rant in Italian about how much he sucks in his ear.]
Honestly, at this point, I almost miss the garden.
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This place can't have much more to show us, can it? I believe a sieste is in order.
[Lobelia is fine, more or less, but he'll insist on Vergilius getting some rest.]
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[He almost has half a mind to ask why he gets the brunt of it over Lobelia, but Lobelia probably didn't regret much at all besides that one memory. Everything else was likely the same old destruction as expected.]
Mm. [He leans into Lobelia, shoulders knocking against each other.] I hope this wasn't all a waste.
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LOBELIA HAS MAYBE AN HOUR OF CONTENT TO HIS NAMEStill, there will be time for that later, the space around them gradually shifting, warping, to spit them back out into the forest where they began.]Now now, I wouldn't trouble yourself with such thoughts. Merlin will no doubt benefit in some form of another, but for now...
[Lobelia squeezes Vergilius' hand, leaning in to press his lips to his temple.]
Retournons. I will have a word with Merlin later, but for the time being, you need rest! [Then, playfully—] Would you like me to carry you? Heheh!
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[And of course they're back in the forest. The eyebags under Vergilius's vivid eyes seem deeper than ever thought possible - though perhaps, they do soften a smidgen when he feels that kiss. Ergh. Affection.]
... [He's shooting an unimpressed look down at him.] Why.
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pretend i slapped an nsfw warning on this 5 tags ago
also pretends i slapped an nsfw warning on this 6 tags ago
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