diademlogs | (closed) may the light be upon me

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(closed) may the light be upon me

Who: aria forzane & the people she's being shitty to: ardbert hylfyst & estinien varlineau
Where: sanctum, institute dorms & thereabouts
When: sometime in early april
What: an absolutely terrible showing from someone who's supposed to be good at lying (& one person she feels bad about lying to and one person who won't leave her alone over it)

Warnings: suicide mention

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[ It's a passing idea, mostly because she doesn't really care where she sleeps. A roof over their head and four sturdy ( mold-free ) walls is nice, but she doesn't really mind the back of her jeep or the great outdoors. But it gets floated nonetheless — for their tendency to drive to the Fringes at the drop of the hat, the Institute is ... convenient. Both in its location and its resource but also the fact that like-minded people will gather, and she's never really been averse to that.

So she brings it up. He doesn't seem averse. A few days later ( after a trip to the Fringes gone ... different ), he asks if she was serious. She finds that she was, even if it takes her a second to remember what he's talking about. Then: it doesn't take much for either of them to pack their meager belongings ( and Dropsy ) and just ... move in. The process is shockingly easy — but her point of comparison is also the Forum. The twins are down the hall, as is G'raha.

It's a cozy little place. Cramped, but in a way she doesn't really mind. Plenty of shelves and closet space for both of them, and they're sleeping in separate beds again. She's going through the motions of unpacking — turns out living in a place for months will still have her accumulate clothes, whether she wanted to or not — when a knotted piece of her hair gets caught on a button. She tries to tug it free. Frowns when that doesn't work ( and just pulls her hair ).

She scoffs. Her fingers aren't patient when it begins to undo the knot. To no one in particular— ] I swear this didn't happen the last time it was long.

[ ... Then freezes. Hey you know what would be really cool? If he didn't notice! Surely if she just goes back to putting her shirts away, he won't say anything. ]

[ Ardbert is similarly unbothered about where they take their rest. The two of them are in and out of their lodgings with a certain regularity, and the motel room had become homey enough simply because they'd been there for moons now. He'd have been content to remain, but the dormitories do provide their own upsides, even if he's never been anything approaching a scholar or a student.

Aria insists that it doesn't matter.

The move isn't all too difficult. Dropsy is used to curling up on his dashboard by now, with Ardbert often taking him on drives, and they haven't accumulated too many things. Such is the way of an adventurer; with too many items, it becomes harder and harder to simply pick up and go.

Besides, some of the Scions have moved in as well, about as close as they'd been at the motel. It's all rather smooth, and as Ardbert unpacks he's content to watch Dropsy investigate every single nook and cranny of the small room.

He hears a grumble of protest from Aria's side of the room and glances over to observe her struggle. It takes a few seconds for what she said to register. The last time...?

It's the way she tenses after she speaks that truly gives her away, though, as Ardbert turns to her more fully with a tilt of his head. ] What do you mean?

[ It doesn't matter. There are resources here — meagre compared to what she would have at home, but better than the Blocks — that could help them with his ... condition. ( This is what she's taken to calling it here. ) It really is more convenient. The Institute will not accept just anyone, but she's joked that she's probably enough of an academic for the both of them combine. It's not technically untrue, either.

Anyway. Her shoulders are lax again. There's a little frown that he won't catch because her back is turned to him, but her voice won't give anything away. ]

Nothing.

[ A beat. She does turn around, amusement obvious in her eyes. The shirt's been folded and put away in a drawer, somewhere. ] I bet you've never had that problem.

[ It's true that Aria can be an academic enough for both of them. To try and explain to anyone why that's amusing would be more trouble than it's worth, though. Either way, they hadn't been given much trouble. It's not like he's going to make a ruckus or get in the way of the people coming here to study.

The way she answers him, so smooth, so unbothered, is a sign in and of itself.

The thing is, Ardbert knows about Aria's tendency to lie, even if it's by omission. He's watched her do it more times than he could remember, both when a shade and from within her very soul.

Even if nothing in particular gives it away, it's as if he can sense it; like there's an imperceptible ripple between them. He knows her, and that's enough. ]

It's not nothing. [ He glances down to where her hair brushes over her shoulder, then back up to meet her gaze again. ] And here I thought you'd know better than to try and keep something from me. Come on, out with it.

[ It's not a secret that they're close; she doesn't really have an issue admitting that. He was the only one she could talk to when she was half-way to losing her mind. Built a whole rapport around commiserating over silly requests to fetch sentimental items and the like. Saved his life — metaphorically — so that he could save her's — literally — in turn. It's not a surprise he'll notice her pause or downplay something or — whatever. It's part of why she doesn't bother most of the time. She knows better than to think it'll work.

But sometimes? She really wants it to, is the thing. She couldn't say why. Is well aware of the paradox that is wanting to lie to someone who she — trusts? expects? — to see through it. It's not something she's interested in examining, the thought gone just as quickly as the annoyance swells, and her tail twitches almost immediately in response. Her brows furrow.

It's not a particularly mature reaction. She's aware of that, too. Doesn't care to examine this, either. ( It's almost like a pattern. ) ] I'm not keeping anything from you. I just—

[ ... ... ...

Whatever!!!!!!!!!!!!! ]

Fine! Something returned me to Etheirys a few days ago. I cut my hair. But whatever brought me back doesn't seem all that interested in transporting my body with my mind, so now I'm trying to get used to this, [ A gesture at her hair, currently down, ] after I just got used to my hair short.

Happy?!

[ Oh no, the tail lash.

It's the first sign that perhaps Ardbert has pushed too hard when he shouldn't have, but in all honestly, how could he have known? An offhanded comment about the length of her hair that she had then (oddly) tried to brush off hadn't seemed like anything so vital. Which had then made him that much more curious about why Aria would even try to conceal it.

But, well, he's in for it now.

The outburst causes his eyes to go wide as he lifts both hands in front of him in a disarming gesture. Still, despite all the focus on her hair of all things, there's some important information buried in there. ]

All right, all right, point taken. [ He drops his hands, looking her over with a frown. As she says, she looks no different, but... ] Your mind returned, but not your body? How long were you... err... there?

[ He certainly hadn't noticed any long period of absence from her. But the odd thing also is that if she went back, he surely should have gone with her. A frown slowly grows on his face as he considers the implications of that.

Dropsy, meanwhile, pauses in his explorations for a moment to stare up at the two of them, noticing the sudden change in mood. ]

Edited 2026-04-03 16:14 (UTC)

[ For once in her life, she's not purposely trying to bury the lead — she's genuinely ~~distressed~~ annoyed over her hair being suddenly long again. First time for everything, and all that.

( Or, more specifically, the implications behind it. Because the only plausible explanation she has for why she's returned this way is that her body never traveled back to begin with. Or, by the virtue of the likes of Ardbert or Emet-Selch or Hythlodaeus being here, their consciousness is the only thing that's ever traveled between Etheirys and the Diadem.

Which would call into question what happens to the bodies of herself and the rest of the Scions while they're here. and, of course, — )

She bites back a sigh. Lets her head turn and her gaze rest on the cat, an arm raising to scratch at the back of her neck, nails against her scales. ] A few weeks. Close to a month, maybe.

— Time didn't move here, though. I drove through a diffusion zone, and I was still driving when I came back. [ A beat. ] No memories of here while I was there, either.

[ A month isn't particularly long, but on the other hand, much can happen in the space of a moon in the life of Aria Forzane. She hasn't given Ardbert any sense yet of what happened in that period of time, save that she cut her hair. But surely her consciousness wouldn't have been returned home unless it was for some reason, no?

Ardbert frowns to himself, arms crossing tight over his chest as he thinks this all over. ] I suppose it might be similar to what the Scions experienced when traveling to the First. Your soul returned, but not your actual body. [ It should be the reverse, though. If anything, her body should be on the Source, but that doesn't appear to be the case at all. ]

The memory part is different, but then again, you returned their souls in a specific manner, back home. [ Using those soul containers that Beq Lugg conceived of to ensure that soul, memories, and essence all returned safely. ] It seems the Diadem has some other method.

[ There's no ignoring the fact that while she returned, though, he didn't. Perhaps it's a simple explanation, which is that he hasn't traveled through a diffusion zone as recently. But it could also be that while Aria's body back home is stable, his isn't. Could that be why his blood is corrupting?

He realizes he's started staring off into the distance and tilts his head to try and meet her gaze again. There's a softness to his expression, just the smallest hint of melancholy, but he isn't going to burden her too much. ] ... It gives us a lot to think about, but... would you mind telling me about it? What happened back home.

[ He's become so used to being passenger to all of her experiences. It's been an adjustment here in Diadem, one that he's made decently well, but the thought that he's missed out on her journeys back home somehow still smarts. It's not her fault, of course, but something he needs to come to terms with, and quickly.

So, he'd like to hear about it. ]

Edited 2026-04-06 17:54 (UTC)

[ He's walking through the exact steps that she went through upon her return — the logical series of steps to come to terms with what exactly happened. At this point, it's ultimately left her with more questions than answers; what he concludes as 'some other method' is the part that she's stuck on. There's mentions of it in the forums, but none of that tells her any more than what she already knows. Which leaves her ... here, ideas chasing each other around in a circle.

Neither here or there, though. She wasn't really expecting him to solve it or anything like that. He falls quiet, and she takes the time to exhale. Tug her hair back up into a ponytail so that it stays out of the way, this time. Briefly wonders what it is that he could be thinking about, before he says it aloud without her having to ask. ]

Hm? Oh. [ Aria blinks. Seems to come to the realization of why he's asking just as she processes what it is he's asking, all at the same time. Her movement stutters, brows knitting together. She didn't even know that he was privy to all that happened after their return from the First until recently, but— ] Yeah. 'Course.

Sit. [ A nod towards his bed. She'll sit in her's so that they're facing each other. Starts all the way at the end ( which turns out to be a beginning after all ), from the teleportation back to Ragnarok to their journey back to Etheirys. It takes a minute before she gets into a rhythm, but she recounts the rest: the legend of Alzadaal III; The Thirteenth; Tural, and the contest its ruler set forth for the throne. How spirited Wuk Lamat was, and how much he'd probably have liked her. The sudden arrival of the Ninth, and the Queen of Alexandria. A whole entertainment empire for fighters that merged their soul with monsters. Calyx, Treno, and the key that she both does and does not hold in her possession, right now.

( The whole thing, as long as it takes — interrupted by whatever Ardbert decides to interject with from time to time, or the tangents she has to go on about the flora and fauna — is a reminder she doesn't quite clock: staying up far too late talking to a ghost of a man about a world she didn't think he'd ever see. Her legs tugged up on a bench so that she sits cross-legged as she is now, except here he doesn't have to pretend to sit across from her — he just is. He says something that makes her snort, and she leans back to kick him gently in the shin. So on, and so forth. ) ]

Edited 2026-04-08 05:03 (UTC)

[ It's not as though Estinien actually notices the lack of Aria's response. Not for a while at least; Estinien is hardly the type to be attached to his phone. In fact, half the time he forgets it exists. So it's not until he's heading back to Panorama that he recalls the conversation—if it can even be called that—and Aria's lack of response.

It throws a a lot into stark relief. Not the lack of response. He'd be a hypocrite by a large margin to take issue with that. But he's starting to notice a great deal many things. He supposes it only makes sense; this is the longest period of time he's spent around her and the others consistently, and with that kind of exposure even he is liable to start noticing things. Like the fact that Aria does a very good job of dancing around an answer to what should be rather straightforward questions, and Estinien has simply allowed himself to be lead around by the nose like a docile lamb.

He wonders if she's even worth the effort it would require to extract the information. He's sure if he asked, Hythlodaeus or Emet-Selch would fill in the gaps for him on some of his questions, and he'd simply let time bury the rest of them.

But Aria is also the single most annoying person he's ever had to spend time with and he kniws it would feel good to extract the information from her the hard way.

With the changes brought about by the chaos of last month, the Scions have all decided to up and move into the dormitories at some institute or another. Information that Aria had parted with easily, surprisingly enough. Though she probably regrets it, as he makes the leap to her window from the outside and climbs inside. ]

Good, you're here. We can continue.

[ Look: she's aware she's not being fair about it — but very little of this is information he's owed, either. It's not as though she's been forthright with any of that with anyone else, so why should he be the exception? If he was really fucking curious, Emet-Selch and Hythlodaeus are actually reachable here ( whether or not he knows them, though— ). She'd rather not have to think about any of it at all.

So — she drops the conversation, and he doesn't seem all that inclined to pick it back up. The matter looks to be at rest.

Until it's not, of course. ] Twelve—

[ There is — now was — a petri dish on her little desk in the little dorm she and Ardbert now live in. The whole thing flips, and the powder that was on the dish is now on the floor. She resists the urge to sigh, because that would give him too much satisfaction. ]

Continue what. [ Flatly, as she pushes the chair back, grabbing a loose sheet of paper as she gets on the floor. She will be collecting her samples back, thank you. ]

[ There's something cold in his anger, in the way he looks down at her as she attempts to salvage her samples. His tail lashes behind him in a surprisingly controlled manner, distinctly different to when he first revealed it to G'raha. With his scales and the wicked sharp horns jutting back from the sides of his head, he looks decidedly... reptilian at the moment. Draconic. Not that he's particularly aware of that fact. ]

Our conversation never did reach a conclusion, seeing as how you are constitutionally incapable of giving me a straight answer on anything. I should remind you that you were the one to—

[ He stops, rewinding the scene in his head. He'd asked her for clarification, and it was then that she'd let slip the information about her past. In light of new information he has to wonder if it was mere rambling, as he'd initially thought, or if she'd attempted to divert him, only to let slip something worse. ]

Ah. Of course. You asked me to relive one of the worst moments of my life knowing well that it served naught. You had no intention of saying anything of what you told me in that place.

[ He makes a faint noise of disgust. ]

I should put my lance through you here and now and be done with it. A kindness, for you would no longer have to deal with this self-serving self-pity of yours.

[ With every intent of interrupting him— ] You asked me— [ No. Wait. This is something else entirely. There's a beat in her movements as she catches up. Eyes narrowed as she looks up at him, brows knitted together, but instead of disdain it's confusion for a split second.

Oh. Of fucking course. Her expression clears to something equally cold. She looks back down to brush all the powder back to the sheet of paper, the motion of it measured and controlled. ] Because telling me to kill myself really opened up the conversation. Were you expecting my entire life story?

[ She stands. The powder returns to the petri dish, and the sheet's set on top of it. ] If so, this is the exact opposite of that. Read the room for once in your fucking life, darling — if you were looking for answers, surely you know better than to insult me for them.

[ The lashing of his tail is a damn sight less controlled now, spines along the length shivering as though preparing for battle. ]

Did you perhaps only meet me for the first time a couple of months ago? If you had wanted someone to hold your hand and cry with you you picked the wrong person and you know that. I can't give you a reason to live, Aria.

[ It's especially galling to have that thrown in his face like it scores some kind of point in her favour because he already gave her his answer to this. For what reason did he still live? He found that purpose. Does she expect him to do the same fucking thing for her too? ]

Acting as though some other force has a hand on the wheel of your life. Perhaps you might try to decide for yourself.

I never wanted a reason to live. [ She hadn't asked him those questions because she needed him to give her a reason. She doesn't need a reason to live; she's alive because she is. That part of her has never been complicated. It's the everything else surrounding it.

She takes a step forward. The tension in the air is not entirely unlike when she stood against Tiamat, or Hraesvelgr, or Nidhogg. ( Or Estinien himself, back then. ) But it's not a fight to the death, is it? It's not even a clash of ideals, really. She's tired and annoyed and pissed, but none of that has ever been a reason to pick her codex up. In a way, that would be more straightforward than this.

It would have been easier, she thinks, if she had just kept her fucking mouth shut. ] I'm the Warrior of Light. Do you understand what that means? Truly?

I am the Source's fragment of a woman who existed tens of thousands of years ago. That's it. I did not — no part of me asked for this. Gods know I was far from qualified when I received that blessing. But to buck against it would have spelled certain doom. That's not much of a choice, is it?

[ She inhales. ] I'm going to walk this path for as long as I breathe. I have no intention of dying anytime soon. But do not lecture me about a luxury you rule as though that's a given.

Edited (explodes over dialogue) 2026-04-06 23:01 (UTC)

[ It's an anathema to him, this indulgent self-pity. They are all shards of some person who existed thousands of years ago, but what has that got to do with anything? That person is not them; it informs nothing of their current lives. Yet it is clear that the existence of Apollo—or rather, her knowledge of it—distresses her greatly.

The fact that she has never ever let on to him—or anyone, he'd wager—that she had this issue and yet is somehow blaming him for his question is... Well, that is this situation in a nutshell. The question wasn't even about her, not really. However, next time he thinks he will stick with messaging Emet-Selch. At least then he's not forced to jump through hurdles for a simple 'yes'. ]

To act as though no one else has had their choices bound by duty or obligation, Aria... That is short-sighted, even for you.

[ No part of me asked for this.

How utterly asinine. Does she truly believe that no one else on the entirety of their star has been made to live a life not of their choosing? Does she think G'raha enjoyed his time as the Crystal Exarch? That Estinien longed to be a Scion? ]

And if you were not searching for a reason to live from me... then what was the point of that conversation?

[ What was the purpose of bringing up things that she has no intention of elaborating on? Is he now somehow meant to discern which of her words are topics of conversation and which ones are deep dark secrets not meant to be mentioned in the light of day ever again? He is dealing with a child. ]

You believe your existence to be singular, so what did you want from me, Aria?

Edited (v2.0) 2026-04-07 17:13 (UTC)

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(closed) may the light be upon me

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cw: suicide mention i guess we're starting strong

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