hugtopia_logs | [closed] i was hanging with you

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[closed] i was hanging with you

♥ Who: Noctis and Pyra
♥ Where: VR cafe, King's Knight
♥ When: early may
♥ What: cute surprises
♥ Rating: PG

[ Over the past couple of weeks they had resumed some of their usual routine. At his leisure they've trained together, this time both with his magic and her own fire, and they've also found time to play King's Knight. Already they've climbed the dungeons together to the point they've almost reached the end of the game.

It's towards the early afternoon where she leaves her work at the labs, and she sends him a text to meet her at the VR cafe-- today is the day where they finally beat the game. Their last joined saved point had been just as the final dungeon leading up to Ophion. Greeting him with a warm smile, her hand finds his as soon as he arrives. They take their usual spots in the cafe and, donning their helmets, enter the game.

Her hand is still in his as she blinks them open once the virtual reality assembles. Before them is the beginning of the dungeon: a series of crystalline staircases ascending a mountain, punctuated with levels of plateaus and terraces where more treasures and enemies await heroes on their gauntlet; behind them, their last chance to stock up on healing items and equipment before proceeding. The cooler wind-effect of this level gives away that they're already somewhere high-up, and her longer hair within the game flows behind her like ribbons upon a flag.

She turns to him, her head tilting. ]

Oh... New class?

[ And a new level, she sees. It seems he's been playing this on his own time, too! While it does make her question why the sudden change for the final area, perhaps he believes being a Dragoon may help them more against the superboss. ]

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[ She doesn't seem to mind at all! In fact, she shakes her head while giggling again. ]

And, ah, you designed it too, didn't you? I don't recognize these markings...

[ It's probably best to step off of Ophion now. So if he's willing to follow her, she'll lead him by the hand off of the dragon. She wishes to walk around to the Aritfice's front anyway, to see if the game has reset his design to be uninjured. ]

Yeah... I kind of had to guess at it. Like I said, I didn't want to ask, because it'd ruin the surprise.

[He follows along of course, offering up a slightly sheepish smile; still no apology, but he does wish it could have looked a bit like what it should.]

[ They walk around to Ophion's head, and he appears to be slumbering... as much as any robot might be able to appear sleeping in a state like this.

He really needn't be concerned with how it looks. That he's did this for her at all means a lot. ]

I love it. This gift, Noct. It's... wonderful. [ ...If that wasn't clear enough. Pyra looks over Ophion again, thoughtful as if debating something.

Something like should she tell him about the actual Fetter? If if she does, what will he conclude after it about how she happens to know? That she knew of its existence at all should have given away that she knows more than she should. But, ah...

After a moment in silence, she says: ]

...This chain is much, um, 'cooler' than the real Omega Fetter.

[He'd wanted to ask - more for his curiosity than anything else, since it's not as if he can or would change his own design now - but wasn't sure if it would be prying too much. Now, with her offering up the information freely, he feels a bit safer in asking.]

What's the real thing like?

It's, ah...

[ How does she even begin to describe it?

Well, first, she wants to sit down in this field, on this mountain, and with Ophion. So she'll do that, finding a spot for them to rest as the ambiance of the game turns over the colors in the sky. With Ophion's defeat, the clouds have parted and the mist has dispersed. It shouldn't be long until they might be able to see stars....

She brings up her hand as if to depict a square of something in front of her. ] It's a crystal cube of energy in its dormant state. In its active state, [ She pauses, then splays her fingers as if they could depict rays pulsating from a core. ] it's an... [ Hm. ] It's easiest to think of it as a mass of energy [ Energy, mass? The terms clash, but this is the best she can come up with. ] that's also a computer.

[ Operating it, one can control both Ophion and the Titans. She doesn't quite remember why she made it as such. Only that for some reason she did, and that's what the Fetter is. ]

[He sits down with her, settling comfortably in the grass with one leg tucked up close to his chest. Since the battle is over - technically the game as well, for this particular round - he opens the menu to switch his equipment to a less-pointy armor set, dismissing his lance as well. If they're just going to lounge before they log out, may as well be comfortable about it.]

Oh wow, I was way off, then. I thought fetter as in chain...

[Obviously, since a chain is what they'd just used.]

Guess it makes more sense your way, though. A chain that can stop a dragon is like magic, but a computer would be able to stop a robo dragon.

[ A literal chain is indeed cooler, as she’s said. Especially for a battle. ]

W-well, it’s said that one can also control the very Titans with this Fetter, too. [ A chain would have to be leagues long to encircle a continent. ] ...And the continents are ground, not robotic, so, ah.

It’s a mystery! How it works.

[ Probably has something to do with it being a divine artifact.

She knows how it works. It also seems to have slipped her mind of how much he does know at this point. Chalk it up to her being very much effected by the nostalgia of being in Ophion’s presence. She’s still in this dream. ]

[Yeah, speaking of.]

Doesn't seem like much of a mystery to you. Isn't Ophion yours?

[He leans over, lightly bumping his shoulder against hers. He hasn't forgotten that memory on the mountain. It makes a lot of sense, in retrospect, how happy she is to see Ophion safe and healthy and saved, even in just a video game. He'd been wounded in that memory, and she'd worried for him; he wonders what his fate back then must have been, but she's so pleased now that he doesn't want to ruin it by asking the wrong question.]

[ She tenses against his shoulder, looking at the dragon.

This is the flaw of having emotions and being sentimental, because she forgets herself with letting secrets slip that she wouldn’t have otherwise. Telling him about her world would have been far easier for her to bear, but thinking back on their previous conversations, she marvels at how lowered her guard has been around him. He know Ophion is divine— she told him. He knows that he is hers— she also told him. Putting these two together, what sort of conclusion might he draw?

She feels that a closely guarded secret of hers, one that she fears to give anyone here because of what she’s heard of others and how they regard gods and the like, is being torn away from her. A familiar feeling washes over her: fear. Fear makes her shirk.

Her gaze lowers. ]

....Yes.

[The tension in her body language draws his attention at once, close as they are; he glances sidelong at her, immediately concerned, though he can't catch her eye. It's telling him that he hit the nail on the head, bringing to mind the set of conversations they'd shared, the tidbits of information she's told him or unintentionally revealed of herself. She's not human. She's used a plural pronoun instead of singular, indicating more than one person. Ophion is hers. Ophion is like a Messenger.

His breath catches, then, one more piece of the puzzle sliding into place- it's like he can see enough of the picture to recognize what it might be, even if the whole is incomplete.

Messengers are the mouthpieces of gods.]

...Pyra... if you don't want me to ask, I won't. And you don't have to tell me anything you're not cool with sharing. [Gods know he's got secrets of his own, even with all he's shared with her.] Just know that whatever it is, it won't change anything. What's it matter where you come from or what you are? I like what I see now. [He squeezes her hand meaningfully.] Or... you can just say, "Mind your own business, Noctis."

[He'd made that promise to her a month ago, after Somnus vanished, to respect her walls when she puts them up and stands firm. The sentiment has not changed, nor has his opinion of her even with what he learned since then. What else could?]

[ There are more than one here who believe that conquering gods via force is a viable, desirable option.

There is another man here who would seek to change the future without a means to see the fallout of those changes.

There is someone who said the gods do not understand or care.

There is another who would consider enslaving them.

In her world, there is a mortal man who would steal from god then wish to become one.

...And isn’t it right that they would want to do this, to blame the gods, any gods, entities, or powers-that-be, for their fates, to want for better, to loathe the divine for what they’ve done (or haven't done) yet simultaneously covet their power? To curse them for their inaction, injustice against the tragic, and lack of answers? Who wouldn't blame them, all that power, all that control over the future, yet letting so many suffer? Who wouldn’t want to change their fate or that of a loved one? Who wouldn’t want to damn those that lord over them seemingly without sympathy? Who wouldn’t want to obtain all the power in the world, the past, the present, the future, to shape it as they please— for glory, for knowledge, for protecting others, for all the answers in the universe? She understands, she understands!

How can she tell anyone what she is, of what she is made, when she understands this? Yet—

Just know that whatever it is, it won't change anything. What's it matter where you come from or what you are? I like what I see now. ]

What I am....

Doesn't bother you?

[ What she has done, what she is still doing-- her actions-- surely might. But if, in principle, just what she is doesn't...

She's scared. She doesn't know what this means. ]

[He lifts his shoulders in a small shrug.]

Don't see why it should. Whether I know or not, you're still the same person. I got to know you like this, so what's hearing your origin going to change?

[Her fear is a reminder of Prompto, that painful hesitance outside the Imperial throne room, the way he'd stumbled over his words as he confessed where he'd come from. He'd hated to see it, knowing he'd been the cause of some of it thanks to Izunia's trickery, wishing he'd been able to see past it so that Prompto could have been spared some of the suffering he'd had to endure. There's no changing the past, though. All he could offer was reassurance that going forward, he would do better- that he'd see Prompto for who he is, and accept it wholeheartedly.

Noct's answer now is the same as it had been then, and he sees no reason for that to change. He has plenty of unorthodox friends or allies in his life, so why start letting it bother him now?]

[ ...She really should have known, she supposes. He sees past what someone is and looks into their hearts.

Even if he doesn't know everything she's done, or the cold decisions she's capable of, of how she uses others, how she lies. To save the world is an all well-and-good excuse, but when held up to scrutiny, it only an excuse. People have still been hurt because of her, and still will be. She can't-- shouldn't, doesn't deserve understanding, forgiveness, or sympathy, for what she's done.

Addam--

What she's doing. ]

Your prophecy... was given to you by your gods.

[ A pause. ]

Do you not resent them?

[He doesn't answer at first, giving that question the thought that it deserves, especially... all things considered. His answer might have been different months ago, a solid no- because what have the gods ever done to him except help him in the fulfilment of his quest? He hadn't enjoyed the pain of Titan's visions, or the trials, or their voices in his head, but he understood the need, and the power they'd granted him had been too incredible to not be worth the trade. He'd rather be sore and exhausted than dead, thanks.

Now, though... he's faced them all, save Ifrit, he's felt each and every one of their powers, bore their marks upon his skin. He'd faced the Draconian and been handed down his fate at last, and he knew now that all along, they'd been sparing his life in order to sacrifice him in the end. The grand plan of the gods, the prophecy passed down through the generations, would trade him for the sunlight. No dawn for him, no crown, no kingdom to inherit. His fate was an empty legacy. He has plenty reason to resent them for it, for building him up just to tear him down.

Quietly he brushes his fingers across the inside of his left arm, an idle gesture he'd been doing more and more since he awoke. It's not the same in VR, and they're covered by his armor, but he knows they're there. He felt their touch, trembled in their presence, listened to their words, reminding him of his duty.

"O King of Kings, restore the Light unto this world."
"The fate of this world falls to the King of Kings, His Providence consecrated in the divine Light of the Crystal."

Do you not resent them?]

...I think... in a way, they're just as trapped as I am. [He tears his gaze away from his arm and looks ahead, watching the empty horizon.] They're meant to safeguard Eos, but they've had to watch it slowly fall apart over hundreds, even thousands of years. They don't feel evil to me, just... so much bigger than any of us. They're looking at the past and making choices that feel right for the best future of our world. If part of that choice is me, then unless I can come up with something better, who am I to argue? If it wasn't me, it would be someone else.

[And he wouldn't wish this upon anyone, just to spare himself the trouble. Even if he doesn't always feel like the right choice, even if it sometimes feels like too much for a single person to endure. He frowns, brows furrowing, and glances over at her.]

I guess the answer is, it doesn't feel right to resent them. They're doing what they have to, to save everyone. It's the exact same goal I have.

[ And his goal is to... banish the darkness, bring the light back to his world, and save it.

Even if he has all the reason to resent them for choosing him as a vessel for this prophecy, he does not. Instead, it seems he makes an effort to understand. It doesn't make the pain he feels right, it doesn't make all the losses and suffering justified, he doesn't have to like it, but he understands.

That’s... more than she would ever thought she’d have. Another's understanding, because she must do the same— do whatever she can— to help her own world . Whether that be hiding and abandoning others to a war that continued, whether that be using others, whether that not be helping the Titans as they continued to be harmed by humans, whether that be defying the laws of life and death she and her brother had written to bring someone back for this purpose.... she needs that understanding. She needs there to be a future for those who still exist, that there might be a chance to make it better.

Something gives, then, like the frozen surface of lake finally slowly cracking in spring, allowing the tension of the water beneath to ease. She feels something like relief, only safer: that among all here, he is someone with whom she can be more at ease. Funny, she hadn’t even known how terrified of others she was until some of that fear had left her shoulders while sitting alongside him.

She lets a slow, soft breath out through her nose. Pyra looks towards Ophion with gaze that remains distant, and then something changes in her expression as she speaks, as if letting some of her exhaustion show. ] I’m so... scared, Noct.

[ Despite this, there’s a hint of a smile at her lips. Because just now, he’s one of only one other who has made her feel... safe. ]

Understanding is... more than those like us may ask.

[ Thus, they... don’t even ask for it, they don’t explain themselves, period, because it would be leading. They do not defend themselves, either. Here, Noctis simply gave it on his own, and she’s in a daze because of it. When did he grow so wise? ]

[Those like us. That's all the confirmation he needs, and it's strange how little he's surprised by it. It's almost freeing, how suddenly a great deal about her makes sense, and at the same time he feels terrible that she's had to hold on to this on her own for so long. She's scared... did no one know it? Has she been hiding behind a smile this whole time? How did any of them not see it? There were hints, looking back, how she'd occasionally faltered when questioned, the mask dropping for a few seconds. But she made it so easy to refocus on the problems of others that the distraction from herself had practically become second nature. How selfish of them, in retrospect, even if she was doing it to protect herself. He'd thought he was respecting her boundaries but what if the push had been something she needed? Even now, she says she's scared but she's smiling. He doesn't know how she does it.]

What are you scared of?

[What happened to you? is what he really wants to ask. Fear isn't always rational, but often it is merited. He's felt it plenty of times for both reasons to know this.

It's... funny, actually. Gods were among the few truly frightful things of his world that he hasn't felt that scared of. Their presence, and the burden they'd placed on him, emboldened him more than anything else. Their need to use him and keep him alive gives him a bargaining position few can claim, though not one he'd ever had to utilize. Shiva could stop Izunia - a man whose presence he'd dreaded - in his tracks with a single touch, even if temporarily, but he'd felt calm and almost peaceful in her frigid presence. He wonders what might frighten a god.]

[ Scared of being fought over, killed over, a political object, taken again. She’s not supposed to even have this form, let alone exist upon the earth.

Simultaneously she’s scared of losing what humanity she has gained.

She’s scared of mortal men believing that they have the means to even try to destroy or control her, she’s scared for them, of their hubris. She’s afraid of what they might sacrifice of their land and lives to reach out to even place a single finger upon her crystal, as if they were worthy of the power and answers she provides.

But above all— ]

Losing the future of our world.

[ Her world is dying.

The land has suffered over centuries and millennia. A quicker end would have been brought about her hands, discarding it to, perhaps, make a new one, but she doesn't want that. Not anymore, not if she could stop that, not since she had been imprinted by humanity.

And if, if humanity will resume a path towards oblivion regardless... then let them, and let them blame her for inaction. It is worth that chance, and she doesn't want to be the one to obliterate that future. Not if there is still hope.... And she'll do anything to safeguard that future.

......... ] But... it’s okay. We’re working on it. [ She tilts her head, looking at him with what she hopes she may reassure him. It’s an easy smile to make; she’s known what needs to be done to preserve her world’s future for centuries, now. ]

A little like you, those Astrals, [ Others here, too, and perhaps even the gods of Aellyn... ] We’re trying to save our world.

[Another suffering world, another struggle for survival, revival, gods searching for an answer to end whatever threatens the future. It's no wonder she'd asked so many questions about it, no wonder she'd done so much to encourage and strengthen him in his quest to gain power for this daunting task. She understood, both from his perspective and that of their gods. She knew how heavy it was, to carry the weight of the world.

She's smiling, trying to make him feel better, but he can't smile back. He can't fake it as easily as she does, and he highly doubts that it's okay.]

What are you trying to save it from?

[Or who, maybe. A world is too big, too full of life and power and people; no one thing is likely to decimate it in entirety. One might be the catalyst, but life is rarely as simple as that. That's how it is on Eos, and he suspects this world, too.]

[ Her eyes shift away from him. And while she remains smiling softly, the immense sorrow in her eyes is unmistakable. Hadn't she already told him that Ophion was dangerous, that he needs to be destroyed? Can't he continue thinking that is what needs to be annihilated for the sake of the world, or... Perhaps he's already figured out there's something else.

She's not sorry for herself for all of which she's done and continues to do, even if she wants to live. This needs to be done, and she adores her world and the people in it too much. She is sorry, however, for those who have already passed-- or will be gone, if she remains stagnant. ] ....Why do you ask. [ She says, her tone faintly wry. ] Do you wish to help?

Of course I do.

[If he didn't already, one glance at the sadness in her eyes would have prodded him in that direction. Like an itch he can't scratch, there's something about that look- it bothers him, he's seen it before. The familiarity is jarring, and probably more human than she might realize.]

We're friends. What kind of question is that?

[ Halt, she wants to tell him. Our universe is sovereign.

...Clearly not as sovereign as she initially thought, if she’s been brought here, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t want to keep it as closed as possible. Her ‘brother’, who holds his own universe, is likely to feel the same. Moreover, he can’t— not with the how of saving the world.

But he might be able to help bring her back to her own world, back to the Architect.

She looks up at Ophion, then down at the grassy summit of the mountain. Indecision plagues her, emotions muddle what could have been a more streamlined thought process. His hand feels warm in hers, natural. His hand feels soft, his words comforting. She’s swayed by these things, she knows it, because kindness and care have always effected her. ]

You’re.... helping us already. [ Her hand, in reality, squeezes his to emphasize this point. The sooner they return to our world... the sooner it will be saved. This one will be less in danger as well. ] You’re helping this world, too. [ And lest either of them forget: ] You’re helping your own. All from their demise.

[ Her eyes close. This answer is meaningful, but it isn’t the answer he’s seeking. She knows this, he might very well be able to tell, too, but it seems as if she’s delaying. ]

[Helping... it doesn't always feel that way. It feels more like she's doing so much to help him, and all he can offer her is a bit of power that she doesn't need except as a mask to protect herself from revealing her own. And he's fine with that! It doesn't bother him, he'd meant what he said, that he didn't feel used by it. But he doesn't like the idea that she's letting him use her for her power, either. He can't help thinking that he isn't doing enough, but he doesn't know what else he can do.

He doesn't answer at first, merely sits quietly, pondering, before his shoulders straighten up as something clicks.]

...Do you think... you'll ever introduce me?

[His voice is quiet, calm; it's not meant to pressure, but it's come up enough times that he can't pretend he hasn't noticed. It would be unfair to hide that from her when she holds her secrets so carefully. If she's not aware that she's doing it, she might say it around people she doesn't feel are safe.]

[ She's been speaking as "we" for this part of the conversation now; the secret's out. He knows, she knows. But this?

She blinks at him, repeating slowly, ] Introduce....you?

[ Her gaze lowers again.

He actually wants to...--

Never would she have thought someone would want to meet Myth-- ]

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