relinquishing | [Written / ANON]

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[Written / ANON] - 001 ☼

[To wake up in the middle of the night wasn't the issue at all. His sleep hadn't been restful at all, considering what their travelling party was getting ready to do once the sun had risen. Even after all this time, having to fight Van was a tricky thing to try and think about.

But when he opens his eyes to the sounds of woods, the crackle of leaves and branches and rushing of water, he instantly knows something is wrong. The air against the bare skin of his chest is confusing enough, but it's the ache against his shoulders that makes this seem... familiar.

Too familiar.

Memories of months that he didn't even know existed were flowing back, all muddled and cloudy and hard to make out without giving himself a headache. He knew... he knew he had been here before. He knew this was Luceti. He knew he wasn't the first Guy Cecil to have been here.

And he knew Luke had been here as well. A flash of swords, of red hair, of split blood...

Luke lying in the grass, engulfed in a golden light, a dark-haired girl weeping at his side.

Guy jolts up, nearly tripping over the pile that contained his clothes. Without a light source, the only resort he is left to is fumbling around for what's on the ground, doing his best to change from his garments and look for the one item that he needed the most: his journal.

It's as he's groping for his other boot that he finds it, and he quickly pulls his footwear on before wandering to find an adequate light source. He had to send a message.]

PRIVATE - LOCKED TO Luke fon Fabre (!FAILED!)

Luke. It's Guy. If you're awake, I need to talk to you.

[...Wait.

Failed?

Guy can feel his heart pound in his neck. Next best thing - the girl that was, more or less, attached to Luke at the hip.]

PRIVATE - LOCKED TO Xion (!FAILED!)

Xion, it's Guy - Guy Cecil. Hey, I know it's late, but I need to know where you and Luke are.

[...

Failed.

He slams the book shut, jaw tight with fingers pressed firmly to the bridge of his nose. It was too late and his memories are too much of a mess. Had they still been here? He could have sworn... But the idea of Luke having never come back fro that previous memory is enough to make him sick. There was already plenty of suspicion for the Luke he remembered back home. For this one, who he'd watched vanish into thin air---

Screw that. Forget about asking around. Something had happened while he was gone. Perhaps too much. So he presses forward through the muddy ground, trying to find the river he knows he hears, all the while prepping his journal for another set of writing.

He'll just... start with the basics. There wasn't any need to lose his cool just yet.

Right.

...]

[Even with the sun already set, this author doesn't intend to be seen at all. The camera is intentionally covered as the text slowly appears on the journal's page.

First comes a foreign script, written hastily in a language that the writer knows only a handful of people will be able to understand. Whether they respond is a different matter.]

[Underneath it, another message, this time in the more common tongue. Might as well play dumb until he knows exactly what's going here. His mind is a little too muddled to try anything else, anyway.]

I guess we'll start with some basic questions -

Is anyone else here?

What year is it?

What direction is civilization from the river?

And what should someone be expecting to see in the woods this late at night? Can't really say I'm in the mood to get pounced on.

((ooc: For Abyss Cast's convenience: Anyone from Auldrant: Age, rank, background, really just your name will do. Respond if you can.))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You look alive. Healthy enough.

[He shouldn't he shouldn't he shouldn't---

...]

Your sight's finally back.

[There's a long break between responses, there, mostly because Asch's knee-jerk reaction was to throw the journal at the opposite wall and leave it lying there as he glowers at it from his desk, trying to decide whether or not he wants to bother retrieving it. It's so obvious now that it pisses him off that he didn't realize it before; there's only one person who'd left while he was blind, who would come back and not reveal himself, who would know to ask that-

And the burning question in his mind, the one that is wavering halfway between terror and rage is simply this: which one is it?

It doesn't seem like the Guy who had nearly cleaved him in two, who had confronted him when he was blind and recovering in the clinic, who'd vanished shortly after murdering him. But it isn't much like the one he knew, the one he'd spent years getting to know, who'd cared for him as much as hated him, because apparently that feeling never truly faded. He's not sure which one's better.

He's not sure which one's worse.

Eventually he slides off his chair and moves to crouch beside the journal, turning it around again to glare at it more directly. The words stare back at him, mockingly, the language of the world he can never return to.

For Guy to say that - to congratulate him for being alive - means that he's aware that Asch has died. Maybe here. Maybe back in Auldrant. Maybe both. The chances are fifty-fifty, at this point.

He doesn't much like those odds.

But he's not a coward, either.]

It's been more than a year, by this world's calendar.

You're still here.

[...]

Nothing's changed, then, has it?

[The fact that he remembered the blindness, that he's been here for that long, means that this is the Asch that Guy had confronted in the clinic. This is the Asch who'd looked like nothing short of a kicked puppy the last time they'd even tried to speak, who'd thrown himself in front of Luke as...

As...

As what? What had happened?

He doesn't bother lifting the anonymity, but he's pretty sure that the God-General no longer has to play the guessing game. He's... also pretty sure that Asch is going to want nothing to do with him in the next five minutes. Which is fine. He's got to sort it out, and if Guy doesn't have to get involved, then he'll live. He doesn't even remember half of the details, save for the irritating mix of feelings in his gut that he wishes would kindly go the hell away.]

That's a heavy assumption to make, based on one conversation.

[And an incorrect one, at that. Plenty has chanced, even if it isn't immediately apparent. With him, with the people around him, with the village itself...

Things change. They always do. It's one of the things he hates about this place.

It bothers him, more and more, that he can't figure out who this Guy really is.]

Maybe I'm just a good guesser.

And maybe we don't have to base this on one conversation.

[And maybe he will always be biased as hell about how he views you and your personality and your everything else. The world could turn upside down and a Fabre would, at the end of the day, still be a Fabre.]

[And maybe Asch doesn't have to deal with this bullshit because he hasn't been given a good reason to stick around.

Hah.]

Or maybe you're still making those blind guesses so you don't have to bother getting to know people.

[Speaking of guesses.

He's pretty sure he knows which one this is, now. Or at least which one this isn't.]

Pretty sure that didn't do me a lot of good the first time around.

[Never mind the anger, never mind the disgust. He still never bothered to figure out why... and as much as he'd like to completely ignore it, it still bothers him, because it shouldn't make any sense.

...

He's tripping into territory he doesn't remember and he can't dwell here for long, but--]

If you don't want to talk, then we don't have to talk.

[He doesn't want to talk. He never does; that's the problem, really. And that, more than anything, is the evidence he needed to figure out who this was.

This was... Guy. Who'd killed him. Killed him, almost killed Luke, mocked him for bothering to care.

He doesn't... want to, but...]

You're the one who decided it was so important to conceal himself. Why reveal who you are to me? What do you want?

[Congratulations, you just earned yourself a filter.]

Why do you think?

If I'd shown my face, you would never talk. And if I didn't have to corner you to get basic information, then maybe this would be more graceful.

But I can't, and it isn't.

[And it won't be. Not right now, at least.]

Luke's gone. You're not. But at least he got the air cleared before he left.

[...Well.

If he hadn't been pissed off before...]

I see. So because he's gone, I'll just have to do? What an honour.

[I am not a replacement for him...!!]

[What the hell. Where did THAT come from?]

~~What---~~ Are you even reading what I said?

Okay, first: You're two different people. Hell, I thought you both understood that by now.

Second: That isn't what I'm talking about at all.

[What.

Like. He knew that. He definitely knew that.

But what.]

What are you talking about?

[Oh boy.

There's a long pause before he scrawls out another response.]

Look. If you've really forgotten, then don't worry about it.

But it's got nothing to do with Luke. Not like that.

[Not really. Not... what he can figure, at least. And if Asch really didn't remember guarding Luke over... whatever the hell it was, then that comment should just ruffle feathers and nothing more.

Hell, Asch's feathers would be ruffled anyways. He'd get over it... maybe.

But putting Asch in Luke's place? Hah. Not gonna happen.]

[Wait.

Wait.

That's what he's talking about? He's bringing that up now? He didn't think Guy would actually-

....

Wait.]

Since when do you care about "clearing the air" or whatever with me?

[Last he remembers is Guy coldly reminding him of how pathetic he'd become. That was the only time they'd really spoken, one on one. It hadn't been a particularly pleasant conversation, either. Hadn't helped that he couldn't even see Guy's face.

Kind of like now, actually.]

I thought you didn't know what I was talking about.

[Make up your goddamn mind, Asch.]

I do now.

[You just gave him a huge hint, geez. He's not dense.

Not as dense as his replica, anyway.]

So, what, are you objecting?

[He knows he isn't.

But he's already this mad, and Guy knows by now that a mad Asch, when not stomping away, is far more blunt. Might as well take the gamble, seeing as he doesn't have much to lose here.]

I'm not objecting. I'm just confused. I never thought you would care.

[Maybe "care" is too strong a word, in relation to he and Guy. And once again he's disturbed and darkly amused at how different things are.

Pretty much the story of his life, anyway.]

Not sure that's how I'd put it--

[Care is definitely not the right word. It was more just... a chance. He had no idea when or where this Asch was from, but the Asch he had known had made his intentions clear. He might have been a bit skewed with anger and scrambling for what little pride he could, but he'd finally brought his foot down on the difference between him and Luke. Guy wishes it didn't have to be through combat. But stubborn Fabre genes would always prevail, after all.

If Asch could do that - if he could separate himself, try to drag himself from all that baggage and bother to be an individual in his own right... then he could start over. He would just be Asch. Guy would just be Gailardia. No longer master and servant. Whether Asch would follow through with that wasn't something Guy was positive about. But the intention had still left his mouth before he could think it back into a corner again.

And here was Asch. Possibly different - very different - but with intentions that Guy, for once, could not figure out. If this had happened under different circumstances, this wouldn't nag at him so harshly. But... somewhere in the back of his mind, Guy knows there was more to it. There had to be. There was a reason Asch protected his replica. There was a reason that Asch had been so closed and cold when he sat in that hospital bed.

He may not "care", per say. Not in the way that Asch might be implying, at least. But he sure is damn curious.]

Some things can't be left untouched, I guess. I can't make excuses. But I'm not going to say any of it felt--

[A long, long pause - goddammit, what was the word...]

--justified.

[.....

...huh.

And now Guy isn't the only one wondering, quietly and curiously, from which time the other is from. Because this isn't the same mentality that Guy'd had last time, but it isn't quite like the Guy he remembered from before, either. Somewhere in the middle, perhaps?

And now Asch can't help but wonder- before, or after he died in Auldrant? Because death can bring all sorts of thoughts and... perhaps not regrets, but a wondering of how things could have been. And here, in this place, such mysterious could be sorted out.

Ha... maybe he should just go ahead and say it. Wouldn't that be a surprise? One way to find out his ~~canon point~~ time frame. And if his death even matters.

...Probably not a good idea. Guy's good at keeping secrets, but even that isn't enough to make Asch want to share. Certainly not on a public journal system, locked conversation or not. Still, it calmed him down somewhat, startled him out of his anger momentarily.]

I'm not so sure I'm interested in dredging up old memories just so you can feel better about it.

Then don't.

[Plain and simple. Although Guy is doubting how "sure" Asch really is. If he was that uncomfortable wandering down memory lane in the first place, he could have left quite a while ago.]

This isn't about me feeling better, anyway.

Isn't it?

[If this were spoken aloud, Guy probably could have caught his dubious tone; as it is, he'll just have to guess. Asch isn't particularly subtle about how much he believes that statement, anyway.]

No. It's not.

[If it was just about him, Guy knows this conversation wouldn't be happening. There not exactly a good way of putting that on the table without sending Asch off to sulk, though.]

Look, this isn't--

[...]

[Okay, whatever. Have some sound.]

This isn't the right place to talk about this.

...

Believe what you want, Asch. But you're not doing yourself any favors when you only assume things.

[That's a laugh, coming from-

...no. Okay, no. He's bitter, and he's still a little angry, but this is disturbingly open for the Guy who seemed pretty okay with almost cutting him in half a year or so ago. It's worth checking out, if only to see how different things are in person.

If they really are at all.]

...Fine. Where?

[Written / ANON] - 001 ☼

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[audio/private] i shouldn't be smiling whenever he gets pissed

[audio/private] why not I usually do

[audio/private] okay good

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