eachdraidh | video || open to all courts

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video || open to all courts

[Maybe you've seen this punkass, maybe you haven't. He was kind of a wild thing in battle, hard to miss if you saw a lot of enemies floating in midair. Somehow, he doesn't look injured, not even a single scratch. The scar across his brow is an old one, from a time long past.

Dante's not one to mince his words, so...]

Alright, would anyone mind telling me what the fuck is really going on? First we're two pissed-off frat house that can't share a campus, now we're twenty invite-only clubs? And all of that because we wished upon a fucking rock?

[The expression on his face says he's clearly buying none of it. He's a stubborn one.]

I want answers. Real answers, not whatever fairyland shit you can come up with.

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...This is ridiculous, I can hear you through my door. Let me come down before we continue our conversation.

I... sure?

[He's half ass glancing around now, wondering where she is.]

[within three minutes there's the sound of a door opening in the manor, and Grell doesn't waste time getting down - even if she is clad in a dress more appropriate to the time she comes from, it doesn't impair her movement in the slightest, and she walks as easily as if she was wearing trousers.]

You should have said you were in the Château, then we wouldn't have needed any locks on our conversation at all.

I don't know where you live. I don't even know where I live.

[He doesn't look apologetic about being a bum, honestly. He does, though, eye her enormous costume dress.]

Are you going somewhere with that?

[Signaling at the dress with just a nod of his head.]

[the question gets a confused look from her - this is just a simple day dress.]

Should I be going somewhere?

[in any case, she's going to take one of the chairs in the room and sit down in it, so that they can continue their discussion in peace.]

And if you don't have a home, I'd always suggest talking to Ariadne - I'm sure she could recommend somewhere in Diasbaile that'd be good for you. But your housing isn't what we discussing.

Edited 2015-11-18 06:10 (UTC)

[... Okay, so she dresses like that because she wants to dress like that.

Not his problem.]

Doesn't matter where I live. I don't plan on staying here long enough to make that kind of difference.

And how long have you been here already? A few months?

[she shakes her head a little.]

I've been here for years, and I knew people who were for centuries. Your plans don't enter into this. That's the first answer I can give you. But if you do want to go home ever? Guard your shard with everything you have. If you lose that, you've lost the tether connecting you. And as far as I know, that tether can't be restored, not even if you put the shard back in your chest.

[He stares are her with a hardened, determined gleam in his eye.]

Neither do theirs. It'll take a lot more than a threat and a bunch of robots to me to kneel and to get this stupid piece of rock out of my chest.

No one is asking you to kneel. Not when we now have a choice in what to do with the future.

[her arms cross in front of her, and she sighs a little.]

"Choose our Fate" - those were the words in my head as I went through the Gem, feeling compelled to make a wish at the Heart of it all. It's impossible to say what everyone might have wished for specifically without asking them, but the sum of what we willed brought us to this point. Back in time, so that the war between Order and Chaos has not yet begun. The Void isn't at our doorstep threatening oblivion. That is what we may have wished on the Uaine Cridhe for.

We've been granted the power to choose, in a great and terrible fashion, what history will be - so I assume from thinking this over for two weeks. So look at whatever you're planning, Dante, with this being known.

[The problem is, he doesn't plan. He reacts. He tears. He kills. He destroys brutally and without mercy.]

So now we've been given permission to choose for ourselves?

[Dante clicks his tongue in annoyance and disgust. It's unfair that the choice to make isn't even that much of a choice anymore, not in the way freedom really should work. It's better than nothing, he supposes.

The nephilim scrubs his face, conflicted. He doesn't want the burden of choosing history, he just wants everyone to get their freedom of choice back, and to go back home.]

I don't care what people pick, I just want this bullshit down. No houses or alliances or any of that crap.

And what would you see in its place, Dante? Disregarding that it would end in complete anarchy, the alliances and courts were there before we were ever born. Something that tied to the nature of things, to gods, isn't going to just go away.

Gods say all kinds of shit and think they're invincible. They bleed like anyone and anything else.

[He knows it, deep in his bones and his soul. After all, wasn't it the twins and the medium that have been crippling Mundus systematically? Anything is possible. Mundus had been in power for millennia.

It's not different here.]

I know that well enough.

[the weight of Ridire would never be off her. it is why she has already thought to herself that she will do her best to not step on Garnet's territory.]

But they come back, at least here. And it doesn't answer my question.

What's the question?

[Dead serious, mostly because he's already so off topic and maybe it's something he doesn't feel like answering anyway.

Who knows.]

What do you want answers to?

[she's changing the subject if he's going to be so difficult.]

I don't know.

[His voice isn't exactly small, but it lacks the usual conviction, the arrogance and haughtiness, his... well, attitude. What is he supposed to fight when it doesn't have a name or a face?]

Why us? Why are we stuck here to fight this? Why can't I just go back home?

[Why won't they let me finish what we started? If he left in the middle of this campaign the twins were waging, would he come back to victory or destruction? Would everything have fallen apart? Would he need to fight twice as hard?

These are the sorts of questions that have been haunting his brain. He had to get back, because he had to free the world from Mundus' grip. None of that's happening here.]

[she closes her eyes and nods - she'll answer.]

It's us because by chance or fate, whichever you like better, the shards - the seeds of our worlds - landed in our souls when the Gem broke and scattered across creation. Sure, we weren't born yet, but over time, that's how it occurred, so says information given out by a friend I trust dearly.

[not past tense. trust still, because she can't say she's gone.]

We were pulled in because we were found, and taking us in before someone else could do so and kill us and weaken the other side was the smart thing to do. As to why we're the fighters - we are proxies, from what I can gather. For one reason or another, they need us to take the shards from our enemies and add them to our own stores. However, that will only be true if the war restarts.

As to why you can't return to your world...that's murkier, and what I can piece together makes me think whatever magic pulled us here is a one-way trip, or the cost is enormously high. Something like that which is an unfortunate fact and not a simple matter of wanting.

And what happens if we don't fight at all?

[He's asked this question once before, to Ariadne, but he's going to keep asking. He doesn't care. Dante is a fighter, but if to stop this it means to lay down arms, he'll do it.

Chance or fate, at the end of the day, they still have no freedom of this burden. No one deserved this. Even the most horrible, vile person in the world deserved some choice in the matter.]

Is the cost more than death?

They won't make you into a soldier if you choose to not go out there and fight.

[she opens her eyes again, and her expression is much more solemn.]

But neither can they promise that you will not be targeted by those who want your shard. Hunters, members of other courts, madmen who seek to become like gods - even those of your own who might mark it as disloyalty. The cost, therefore, is accepting that risk. And unless you figure out how to hide that shard of yours, those born in this world will always know you for a shardbearer. I don't know why, but they do - and they will treat you as such.

[It all comes back to the same thing: a lack of choice.

It reeks eerily of what demons make of him back home: a target unwilling.]

I'll take that risk. It's not much different, here and back home. I'll deal with it.

[Grell nods again, eyes glancing away before they come back to him.]

There are artifacts that can help you, should things begin to become more pressingly dangerous than they are now. Objects imbued with some sort of spell to cloak your shard - jewellery is common, though other things are possible. As to how to obtain them...vastly impressing one's monarch is one way it's been done, and I know Seacht Realta managed it, at least before things all went backwards. The last idea I have is to look to the underground - it might involve money or a decent favour, but being smart and persistent generally gets you what you want.

And of course, if you have allies whose names you can pull down, things get a little easier. [like me, she almost says, but catches herself. being too willing to put herself out there would be suspicious even if it came from honest interest.]

[Dante's frown morphs into a scowl. He's not made for this kind of thing. He's the kill or be killed type. He wouldn't even know where to start because he's never been in the business of impressing anyone, not even himself.

Okay, maybe himself, but still.

And he's even less about money.

The whole thing is sending his head spinning, and rightly so: this isn't his forte. Dante even groans.]

So I have to kiss ass to some person that put me here so I can get back or fuck this place up.

[Eloquent as ever.]

Only one of several options. The world is renewed. Shardbearers have more sway than they realize.

You all seem pretty okay being stuck here.

The sentiment's less popular than the impression my words give. But for some of us...this place, it offers more of a chance than where we came from.

[her gaze goes down to her folded hands.]

I don't presume to know how your world was to you.

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