driftfleet | ᴀᴜᴅɪᴏ/ᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ

Entry tags:

ᴀᴜᴅɪᴏ/ᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ | too bad, so sad

Who: Dezel and you
Broadcast: Yes
Action: Crowley's bar or the Huntress, whichever you prefer.
When: Now

[audio]

[Someone is definitely growling. You'd think he was a dog, but then he seems to form words. Every consonant sounds like a knife against stone.]

I'm staying away from the planet for a while. If anyone needs me—

[He hesitates.]

—too bad. [And he hangs up.]

[action]

[Despite his grumpy broadcast, Dezel can be found in certain places. One of them is Crowley's bar. He's invisible, but that doesn't stop him from cleaning glasses and making tiny, pretentious food. If you can't see him, it's like some invisible Christmas elf keeps leaving tarts everywhere.

Alternatively, he can be seen (or not seen) sulking in the Huntress' cargo bay, sitting on some boxes beside a window. In his lap is a fuzzy happy little slug that he strokes with due diligence.]

[ooc: If you're meeting Dezel in person and haven't done so, please fill out his seraph permissions!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Dezel doesn't plan on killing anyone. There's no point, especially when Zaveid joined the party. He's as much a friend of Sorey's as Dezel himself is... though it's hard to imagine that.

He just wants to stop... all... this. The yelling, the trepidation, the uncertainty that follows Zaveid's swiftly-changing opinion of him.]

... There's a rocky beach that no one goes to. It's northwest of the main city and surrounded by cliffs.

[ They're just going to fight it out, and if that's what Dezel wants then fine. Zaveid can handle that; it's not as if he isn't used to fighting, and he knows Dezel's style since he's a sweet little copycat. It's just a matter of getting the aggression out before it ends up eating them both alive.

Zaveid just wants it to be like it was, but that's impossible. So he works forward. ]

I'll be there in half an hour, if that works.

Yeah. I have to take a shuttle down.

[Have you ever tried piloting one of those things while blind? It's................... not good.

Anyway, he wants to get started before Sorey or someone else can jump in, so he terminates the feed there.]

[ There's a sense of finally that comes as Zaveid arrives, flopping down onto the ground and lifting his legs so he can rest his arms on his knees. This argument of theirs was going to come to a head at home, before Symmone happened, and the months since hadn't meant that he'd forgotten Dezel - the opposite was the case, really. It just forced the memories into his mind all the more, making him impossible to forget or move on from.

Leaning back, he collapses into the ground behind him, hat falling of his head before he grabs it to start spinning it on his finger. It's only when he hears Dezel approach that he stops, lifting his free hand in a two-finger salute. ]

Yo.

[Dezel stops a few yards away. This isn't a tea party; he hasn't brought any teacups. Just himself and the chip on his shoulder. Zaveid didn't want to fight before, so Dezel doesn't make a move to fight him now. Not yet, anyway. A cutting breeze lashes around him, restless and violent, kicking up stray bits of sand and pushing them further away.]

Zaveid.

[He reaches up and tucks the brim of his hat down, scowling.]

I'm tired of playing games and I'm tired of getting other people involved. The Shepherd doesn't need to be worrying about this, but you know he will.

Do you have anything to say?

[ And Zaveid, true to nature, lounges around on the floor even as Dezel approaches, not bothering to push himself to his feet yet. The fight will start when the fight starts and until then he's more than happy to lounge around as if he doesn't care, hiding his true feelings easily enough. ]

Dezel.

[ He grabs at his own version of the hat, fingers stroking over the edges before he sighs and sits up, putting it back on his head and pressing it down. Then and only then does he actually look over at the other man, shrugging a shoulder. ]

You know he's gonna find out, right? That's kinda what he does, being a nosy Shepherd and all.

[ But finally he jumps up, leaping to his feet and stretching out his arms. ]

I've got nothing to say. Bring it on.

I know we'll catch hell later. Right now, this is about us.

[He adjusts his gloves. It's weird knowing there's another copy of Lafarga's hat floating around. He's not sure how he feels about that, or anything else he's learned about Zaveid recently.]

So be it. [Dezel had hoped Zaveid would be up front about it, and left the option for it, but... that's pretty typical of Zaveid, honestly. He'd dance around the issue until there's nothing left.

Dezel makes no move to pull out his pendulums yet, but the wind kicks up a notch. It's now openly flaring around him like a dust devil, threatening to suck in anything it touches. His posture is ready, yet oddly casual; he rests on the balls of his feet and waits for the wind to shift, heralding his moment.

And then he's gone-- shooting forward, his pendulums extended like razor whips to take a bite out of Zaveid.

Dezel is ridiculously fast, owing to being one with the wind, but Zaveid knows every single trick with that, too. This is going to be hard. Dezel... might not win. He might not win, and he's doing it anyway, because someone has to put an end to it.]

[ The problem is that for all that Zaveid might be able to say a thousand and one things to Dezel, the truth is that he doesn't think any of them will matter. Nothing is going to be able to get through the determination to forget everything - and that's what he'd told Sorey about. Sometimes there's this thing with memories, almost like an oath, making them all disappear until you're ready to face them again - and Dezel just isn't ready.

Fighting isn't the answer, not really, but it's part of the solution, and if it's going to make things less tense between them then so be it. Zaveid taught him almost everything he knew - it's not going to be easy for Dezel to get one over on him.

Reaching up, Zaveid grabs at the pendulums as they come at him, shifting his weight a little and adjusting to make sure that they sink into his fingers just as he wants. It would be easy to tug and drag Dezel forward, but he doesn't bother; with the control on his side he lets the wind flex around him, breathing out a soft noise before he moves forward, taking one step and then two before he flicks out with his own weaponry, aiming for leg rather than arm. ]

'Us' seems like a lot of effort, doesn't it, Dezel?

[In many ways, Dezel is like a little kid. He likes attention but not too much. He gets jealous easily. He doesn't seem to have any sense of self-worth. And in some ways, he's like a panicked animal: he screams when people get too close, he claws his way through everything, and he always bites the hand that feeds.

This is the first time he and Zaveid have agreed on anything. This is the first time Zaveid has humored him by granting him some kind of release. It's not what he wants, but the most important answers rarely come easily. He has to believe that, at the other end of this, he'll at least be able to coexist with Zaveid. He might not like him-- in fact, Dezel probably will never like the guy-- but at least he can stop upsetting his own friends with their stupid fighting.

Speaking of stupid, attacking first? Totally stupid. Zaveid reads the direction of the wind like it's written on the ground and intercepts his pendulums without a scratch. That's... infuriating. Granted, Dezel isn't actually trying to kill him, but beating the shit out of Zaveid is A-OK.

He calls his weapons back only to find his leg immobile. Ah, hell.]

What do you want from me!?

[Dezel brings his pendulums down sharply, summoning up ethereal chains around Zaveid. His expression is one of absolute desperation, confusion and anger. None of this makes sense. None of it ever did.]

If you want your pound of flesh, come and get it!

[ Zaveid has been with the wind for longer than Dezel has, simply because of his age, and he thinks that maybe this isn't exactly a fair fight - they're both Sub Lord, technically, true, they're both wind seraphim, but Zaveid is older, if not wiser, and he knows just how to handle himself. He knows how the pendulums work and he knows how Dezel works, little things that the other man can't seem to remember, and it gives him an unfair advantage. It makes this battle easier for him physically, but...

Mentally? Mentally, he's screwed.

He reads the wind and basks in it, adjusts his weight and moves step by step, as if this is a dance he needs to get out of his system more than anything else. His body shifts as he bends, dodging the movements that Dezel thrusts at him only to summon his own artes, forcing himself to shift and actually fight back. Hell, when he was fighting Sorey he never held anything back, why would he do anything different here?

(The difference is that he was trying to prove a point with Sorey, trying to get him to back off certain hellions so that he could do it, trying to get him to understand where the true danger was - that Maotelus was their problem and Lailah couldn't talk about it. Here it's just him and Dezel, fighting one on one, and he doesn't want to take him apart. He doesn't want to destory a lifeline he feels he's grasping at, fearing what it means to lose it completely).

Pulling his pendulums back, Zaveid huffs out a noise, shifting to draw his own seraphic artes forward, shoving it against Dezel. He shoots forward to try and knock Dezel off his feet, to lower his guard and defend himself; because he's not attacking, not really. Even now he's on the defensive, letting Dezel get all of this out of his system. ]

I never said I wanted anything!

[ It comes out sharp and biting, his voice low with his own frustration, his hurt and his anger. All he wanted was one thing, and it comes out as a burst of anger as he thrusts the wind forward at Dezel. ]

Just try and remember!

[His chains miss by miles, and it makes Dezel want to scream. He'll settle for growling instead. He doesn't give up even though he's handily outmatched. This was a mistake, but it's a mistake that was necessary, and he'll be damned if he tries to back out of it now.

Dezel rolls out of the way of the seraphic artes. Zaveid is... more experienced. That much is true. But Dezel is too damn stubborn to lay down and give up, so he comes at Zaveid again with blades flashing. Zaveid nearly trips him up but Dezel catches his balance at the last second and pushes back, trying to keep from being blown off his feet. His heels dig in, leaving trenches in the damp sand and rocks.

He doesn't want anything?

Then why does he keep coming back? Why does he always look at Dezel like--

Dezel roars and deflects the burst of wind, only to bring it around himself and launch it at Zaveid. There are more words on his lips, many more things he could scream, but that demand knocks all the air out of him.

Remember? Remember what?

He's confused and uncertain for the second time in the last 48 hours. This would be a great time for him to get impaled by a hellion. Too bad that's been done before.]

I... can't!

[He yells it less like a battlecry and more like an excuse. All he can do is channel all this rage and frustration into another arte and hope that it hits. This time he calls down a giant windy burst and sending it flying at Zaveid, painfully obvious as it might be.]

I lost everything, Zaveid! [His throat tightens, and it makes his tone a little more vulnerable than he'd like.] I'm NEVER going to get it back!

Edited 2016-07-22 11:37 (UTC)

[ Dezel might think he's the only one that needs this, but he'd be wrong - he's not alone in the desperate feeling, the way that it all builds up inside of Zaveid like an explosion waiting to happen. He's on the brink of losing his mind completely, he thinks, and his self-given isolation has been shattered around him - and, oh, how funny is it that it's losing Dezel that made him give up that? That made him step forward and work forward for a better future? To break his own laughing promise of never becoming a Sub Lord?

There was a gap to be filled and he filled it. There's no gap anymore, and no more promises to keep, and Zaveid feels it like a burn in his chest. He feels the whiplash of knowing he doesn't quite belong, doesn't really fit in - Sorey-and-Mikleo, Rose-and-Dezel. Those were the pairs and he had seen it, understood it as he journeyed with them, even if what Dezel had done had been somewhat hideous in the eyes of some seraphim. He understands it all because if he could use the same power to save Eizen he'd have done it a thousand times over.

But he hadn't saved Eizen. He hadn't saved Dezel. He might not even be able to help Maotelus. The failure weighs down on him like rock and he can't handle it, not when he's coming so close to snapping and falling apart already.

What he needs is for someone to anchor him. He's the wind; he could float away if he wasn't careful, lose himself in the mindlessness of chasing and ending hellions, avoiding his promises and his responsibilities as easily as he had been doing since he lost Eizen to malevolence. Sorey was his anchor, his vessel, but now he feels it all unravelling around him, his hands shaking before he twists and curls his fingers into clenched fists, forcing himself to stand tall, to be strong.

The arte comes and Zaveid doesn't bother trying to repel or dodge it - it's big, and dangerous, and he has to adjust his weight and shift to bring his own arte forward just to try and stop it blowing him off his feet. It doesn't quite work, of course, and that's partly because he doesn't have the energy, the will, to stand up to the onslaught - not when Dezel shouts what he already knows and Zaveid can't handle it anymore.

It blows him off his feet and he goes crashing into the ground, hat tumbling off his head and body aching as his skin scrapes against the landscape under him. His voice, when he speaks, is a wince. ]

Yeah, I guess I can see that now.

[ He's aching and hurting but it's nothing compared to what he knows is buried deep inside of his chest, where his heart is hurting most, and as he pushes himself to his feet he brushes dirt from his arms, trying to shrug it all off. ]

Round one goes to you.

[The wind touches Dezel's ears and whispers that Zaveid is breaking, and he isn't sure how to handle this news. Why is Zaveid so caught up in this? What the hell does he want Dezel to remember? And then the idiot takes the spell practically head-on; Dezel's surprised to see him go flying, hat and limbs akimbo.

Zaveid should be given space, he should be allowed to stand up without incident, but Dezel is still riding the wave of pain and confusion. He zips forward and tries to grab Zaveid by the necklace in order to haul him up. Dezel isn't sure what he wants from this fight anymore but yelling seems to help so he'll do just that.]

What is it you want me to remember? Why does it matter so much to you?!

[His lips pull back, exposing sharp teeth.]

If I did something to you, then say it! Stop dodging around it and hit me back!

[ He's tugged up, but Dezel is right - Zaveid isn't going to give in that easily. He's hurting, physically and mentally, but that doesn't mean he's going to shrug it off; Dezel can shout and scream and give him all the abuse in the world, but he can be stronger. He can be better. He has to be, otherwise the two of them are never going to be able to work through this - and he wants them to work through this, he wants them to be okay. He's desperate for it now, especially after the loss of Eizen, and it spurs him forward.

He wants to snap and break, and it's coming so close. He could rip into Dezel, end up violent and dangerous, but he doesn't. Instead, he summons the wind and shifts, pushing him forward, using the strength of it to try and drag Dezel down - but even then his words come, hoarse and a little breathless, his teeth clenching when he's done. ]

I want you to remember me, damnit!

[ And there it is. It comes out like a violent riptide of emotion, and he steps back with shaken legs. Bowing his head, Zaveid feels weak, feels desperate - and it's all crowding around inside of him, the wind whipping around his body before he forces himself to calm down. Tilting his head back, he closes his eyes, forces himself to find some kind of centre, some kind of calm, something to keep him together. ]

I was too late to get to you before, and now...

[ He can't look over. He wants it to hurt, he wants to fall flat on his back and have violence pushed onto him again, because it's a hell of a lot easier than this. He's surprised it came out so quickly, but he smothers it with a huff and a lift of his shoulder, looking over at Dezel with a faux grin, trying to play it off. ]

Round two to me!

[ And then there's a barrage of artes heading right at Dezel, desperately trying to get the other seraph on the ground. ]

What?

[Dezel is prepared for Zaveid to fight back, or at least he tells himself that, but the truth is that the weight of the wind is so heavy that he can't help bowing against the pressure. Zaveid's power is like a storm rolling off a mountain, and though Dezel is a sapling with some flexibility, he can't help but be forced to his knees.

He tries to shake it off and get back to his feet, but Zaveid's words have struck him harder than any physical punch could. He doesn't understand. It doesn't make sense. Remember him? He lets out a shaky breath and lifts his head. Something about-- about Zaveid standing in front of him, so tall, it--

The artes roar as they bear down on him. Dezel is just a little too slow to get out of the way. He almost manages but the whips hit him regardless, and he goes down hard with his face in the dirt. It's his turn for his hat to pop off. Poor Lafarga's hat never had anything to do with this.]

You... [It's mumbled towards the ground, and he takes a moment to spit. There's only blood because he bit the inside of his cheek and not because he lost a tooth or anything. He pushes himself up off the ground. His vision is swimming, too; he's not having a good time at all.

Dezel's eyes flash. He cries out in anguish and rage and desperation and punches the ground. Spectral chains shoot out of the rocks, trying to wrap around Zaveid. Dezel lacks the follow-through, though; he remains where he is, panting and trying to figure out why his throat is tight and his eyes itch. He never wanted this. He never wanted this. He never wanted this. He never--]

Edited 2016-07-22 20:21 (UTC)

[ The shout comes and whips through him, far harsher than the wind could ever be. He knows how it is to be a seraph; he knows what it means to give up parts of yourself to become better, stronger. Dezel gave up memories to make himself a better, stronger man and he can see it - he saw it as he travelled with the Shepherd, saw it in those final moments when he had lounged outside, thinking that nothing too bad could happen from him giving his gun up.

More fool him, right?

If he had never given over the gun maybe Dezel would still be alive. Maybe he'd have been able to use the last bullet to save Eizen - maybe he could have ripped the malevolence away from the dragon and saved his friend. But it hadn't gone that way, had it? He hadn't thought - he had wanted a way to hide from his promises, to try and find another path, and he had failed. His failure had taken so much from him; he had lost Eizen, lost Dezel, could lose so much more in the blink of an eye if they didn't manage to find and help Maotelus - if what the old man had told them was true he could even lose himself.

That was the price he had to pay for his choices, and for once? He was okay with that.

Shifting, Zaveid holds himself steady, letting the wind whip his hair around his face and shoulders; it's violent and deadly, just like Dezel himself, but Zaveid embraces it. It makes him feel as though thousands of little pinpricks are erupting over his skin, trying to force him into submission, but he can't do anything to fight back, not anymore. He doesn't think he has the energy, even as he grits his teeth and forces himself to stand true - Dezel might be younger, weaker, but his anger gives him strength that Zaveid can't bear to match, not right now. It's agony, pure and simple, and he feels like he wants to cry.

(Maybe he does; he's not sure, not with the wind dragging everything away).

The chains wrap around him and Zaveid crumples for a moment, completely lost; he lets the chains wrap around him and he doesn't fight back. Instead, he lifts his head and he stares at Dezel, teeth clenched and expression hard. It's just as difficult to speak as it is to move, but he manages it. ]

Goddamnit, you don't remember anything, that's fine, just let me go!

[Dezel is aware of Zaveid struggling against the chains. He could end it here, but the truth is that neither of them want to do it. He lets out a shaky breath and releases the chains. His breath comes in uneven spurts, compounded by the pain in his head and the anxiety twisting itself inside of him like some kind of monster. Just a few weeks ago, Mikleo had told Dezel that he mattered, that he was cared for, that he was irreplaceable. How ironic that his replacement would show up so soon afterward.

The rough stones dig into his gloves and hurt his palms. Pendulums are a traditional tool of divination, but Dezel has never been able to tell anything good about his own future. He had no great destiny. He was only meant to be a footnote in the stories about Shepherd Sorey, barely worth mentioning at all.

He knows why he can't remember. He just wants to know what it is. Dezel dwells on the past much more than he should, even though he doesn't have one. He's a man without a past, without a future. All he has is right now, and he realizes that isn't what Zaveid wants. Zaveid wants him to remember something that is simply gone, erased with the rest of the person that Dezel was. Gone like his sight.

He's never regretted his wounds until now.

Still struggling to keep himself upright, the words fall out of his mouth before he can stop them.] I'm-- sorry. [His words would be easy to miss if the wind didn't carry them right to Zaveid's ears.] I can't do it.

[Quiet and resigned, he sounds so much younger.]

I'm empty.

[ Pain burns through him, and it feels like an explosion - it's not just the outside marks, the things that stagger him and leaving him aching and hurting, it's everything. It's Dezel's voice, the way he handles himself, the way he moves and speaks, and Zaveid can't do it anymore. He can't be here and he can't watch this happen, knowing that it's never going to be the way that it was. Dezel has lost so many of his memories now and getting them back is an impossibility - a true Seraphim trade.

It doesn't mean he hadn't hoped. It doesn't mean he hadn't wanted, so much, so desperately...

He drops down to one knee, breathing out a hard, broken noise as he tries to come to terms with all of his emotions, the way that his entire body seems to ache and burn. He wants to run away but he can't, not right now, not when they've come so far, and Zaveid might run from a fight when he knows he's losing, when his job is done, but he can't run from this. He can't abandon Dezel again - he can't leave him like he had before, right before Pendrago, right before Symonne - before everything. The idea of it makes him feel sick.

Slowly, he pushes himself to his feet, his body aching from being hit by artes and from using up his own strength. Oh, he could have fought for longer, but the energy, the emotion - it wipes you out before you've had a chance to do anything.

He takes a step forward and then pauses, hesitating for a moment, before he bows his head. ]

I should know that, huh? Kicking at something 'till it breaks isn't going to bring back what's gone.

[ If only it did. He moves closer, leaning down and offering his hand, still wary, still sad, but - trying. He's trying, and it's whiplash and painful and he doesn't want this, to realise he's truly lost Dezel, just like he's lost Eizen. It's like giving up, and he doesn't have the strength. He's not strong enough to lose this much and keep going, but he has to be. He has to be for Sorey's sake, for Mikleo, for Lailah and especially for Edna, who shares his pain. ]

You can fill yourself up again. That Shepherd... He's gonna need you here to make sure he doesn't lose his head.

Edited 2016-07-22 22:15 (UTC)

[The fight is over at this point and no one won. That's what it feels like. Both of them lost something, and they're both a little bloodied and broken, and Dezel can't seem to bring himself back to his feet. He trembles from the stress of propping himself up for so long; the tang of blood still sits on his tongue, reminding him that he's still alive.

He's vaguely aware of Zaveid standing over him. If Zaveid decided he wanted to change the rules and kill him here, he absolutely could. But there's no malevolence coming from Zaveid. There never was. The only monster here is Dezel himself. He keeps his head down, streaked with dirt and sweat and a little blood, but the wind tells him of Zaveid's offered hand.]

... Don't be stupid. Sorey needs both of us. He's a lost cause, you know that.

[He isn't sure when he reached out and took it, but Zaveid's hand feels awful familiar. Dezel keeps staring at it as if he can actually see it, and he's forgotten to let go.]

[ Was there ever going to be a winner, really? Zaveid doesn't think so, but he knows they had to get this out of their system. They had to use it all up, had to make sure it all exploded out of them before someone else got dragged in, and it's better to do it now rather than later. Sure, he's sore and pretty peeved off, but he understands that it might have been necessary. He might even be able to handle using Sorey as a vessel again, in time.

Sorey had already told him they were both still connected to him; it's not as simple as just accepting it, though, not for Zaveid. He knows he was just a replacement for what they'd lost and he'd accepted that, but... It's harder to face now that they're actually standing together, using their power to batter and bruise one another. It's not as simple as some idle thought in the back of his mind - it's real, and obvious, and right there in front of him. ]

Tsk, you're right. He'll end up walking off a cliff if we're not there to check on him.

[ He tugs on Dezel's hand, holding him in place, and he doesn't let go either. He keeps his hand in place, his eyes flickering down to where they're connected before he breathes out and relaxes. Yeah, this is okay, he thinks - he can work with this. It isn't the same as what he's lost, but it might turn out to be something just as good - or something better. ]

[This is yet another fight that Dezel went into with no hope of winning. This time he's managed to escape with his life, but he knows more than anyone else just how bad it could be. In the end, they both screamed at each other and pulled their very last punches. He hopes Sorey realizes that. He's not about to go tell him.

He huffs in agreement or maybe exhaustion-- hard to tell-- and he's still stuck staring at this hand. Zaveid wants his hand back if the tugging is any indication.]

I think... [His voice is quiet, his words slow and deliberate, like he's speaking for the first time in years.] ... I think I remember this...?

[He lets go suddenly, feeling a bit diffident about the whole thing, and turns away a little.] That doesn't make sense. Never mind.

Edited 2016-07-23 00:46 (UTC)

[ It's not as if Zaveid had ever intended to come out a victor either, he thinks; he had known that this wouldn't end in a success for himself or Dezel - it was only ever going to end in heartache and disappointment. It was only ever going to be pain, and suffering, and wearing down what was left of his strength, and now... Now he can't do anything but try and keep his head held up, trying and pretend that he's the strong one when all he wants to do is fall apart.

He doesn't want to let go of the hand in his, doesn't want to feel the leather slip away, but he knows he has to let it fall; he has to give in. He can't keep Dezel forever, can't force him to relearn what he's forgotten.

But then, oh, then, he speaks. I remember this - and the spark of hope bursts to life inside of him again, reigniting a fire that had burned low at the loss of Eizen. There's hope, then, for the future, for what might come here on the fleet, and Zaveid stares before he shakes his head. ]

I won't hold it against you, don't worry.

[He's not sure why he said that in the first place. It's pretty clear that Zaveid and Dezel knew each other before, but Dezel can't remember, and now that he knows that he feels obligated to... to smooth it over somehow. It's the truth, though. He can almost remember, but not quite, and he's not sure how to express this. He's never been good at social things.

Of course Zaveid won't hold it against him. He hasn't held any of it against him, even when Dezel screamed that he didn't know anything and tried to whip his head off. Even so, it's a small comfort. Dezel has been judged for so many things, mostly by himself, that he doesn't know how to put those worries aside.

He adjusts his gloves, still remembering the warmth and trying to ignore the nagging feeling that he is forgetting something. Yes, he knows. That's the whole point.]

... I remembered some things when I fought the girl, [he murmurs.] I remembered that it was my fault. [He doesn't dwell on this right now and he doesn't want to talk about it, so he moves on.] A lot of things are probably lost forever, but if it's really as important as you say, then it'll come back to me.

[ There are, now, a thousand things Zaveid could say. He could make arguments that it wasn't Dezel's fault, that there must have been something else, but he doesn't actually know what happened - he wasn't there to understand the memories, he hadn't been there until after, when it was too late. He had failed, and he was paying the price for it now, standing before someone he recognised and being faced with the fact that he didn't exist in his world. It was hard, but, hey, he'd dealt with worse, right? He could tough this out.

There's just nothing he can say that will make this better. There's nothing he can do that can fix the broken bridge between the two of them, and he breathes out a heavy noise. This has gone better and worse than he had imagined, and he takes a step away, bending down to pick up his version of the hat and shove it back on his head - maybe he'd abandon it, in time, to let Dezel keep the memento. He's just not ready for that yet.

His body hurts. He's aching from the wind and the ground battering at him, and he knows he's going to be avoiding Sorey and Mikleo for a while until he's feeling better - but he's happier than he was. ]

Then they'll come back. It's my bad for trying to make it happen, I guess. [ He huffs, shaking his head, arms lifted. ] Sometimes you gotta stop yourself from getting carried away!

[Dezel is feeling it, too. He's probably going to take a day-long nap in the spartan room he has claimed for his own. Avoiding Sorey and Mikleo will be difficult, seeing as he's on the ship with them, but they're generally pretty good about giving him space. Sora, too... though Sora is probably the one who needs it the most.

He dusts the dirt off his own hat and dumps it back onto his head. Dezel looks like hell and he's sure someone will notice sooner or later-- not that he cares.]

All you did was give me a headache. [He says it dryly, but he is absolutely serious.] I've been trying to remember for a couple days. All I remember is why I stopped forcing myself.

[At least he still knows Lafarga's face, and when he stepped in to save Rose as a little girl. There's just one important person left.

He covers his hat with his hand.]

... I won't tell Sorey about this if you don't.

[Bargaining is the third stage of grief.]

ᴀᴜᴅɪᴏ/ᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ | too bad, so sad

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