anyway. what a fuckin day. after having to be a Literal Worm for a couple hours, temenos is decompressing by... having a glass of wine in the bar, because can you blame him. he's scrolling on his iris, too, though it seems mostly mindless.
when he notices ichiban come in, he gives him an incline of his head in greeting. actually... ]
Hmm. Ichiban, perhaps you can help me with something? If you might be so kind.
[ i have the power to say ichiban never changed out of his stupid doordash outfit so WHY NOT. similarly, he's also expecting this to be a traumafest given his memshare experiences thus far, so... when it turns out to legitimately be innocuous, he can't help but be a shit about it. ]
Wow... I knew about Necchan, but I wouldn't have pegged you to be such a softie too, Tem...
[ temenos is usually a good liar but there is no recovering from THAT particular memory, because "my heart is sweating" was the worst lie in the world and also
he looks a little misty eyed even at the memory. embarrassing. ]
[ hewwo tem. after today's events, ichiban is not in his casual outfit, nor is he wearing his eye-catching red suit; right now, he's wearing a simple black suit, almost like he's in mourning. ]
[ there's a long moment where temenos just kind of
he's sitting somewhere, a cup of tea in his hands, but despite his general grandpa-drinking-his-nighty-tea-at-9pm posture, his look is very, very serious, his eyes sharp, like he's assessing him. ]
[ TEMENOS CHRIST WHERE ARE YOU ON THIS HOLIEST OF DAYS AMEN... wherever temenos is, ichiban will be looking for him, eyes puffy and just kind of looking like a kicked puppy, all things considered. ]
...stupid question, I know, but how are you holdin' up?
he's in the medbay like a good boy, though it looks like at the moment he's just bandaging his hands. when temenos hears ichiban, he looks up! and then... aw, he huffs a little laugh. ]
I feel as though I should be asking you that question. [ gestures him over closer? come here. ] I'm fine.
I did my time in the pods, man, I'm as good as I'm gonna get.
[ approaches... to his credit, he does look significantly healed up since last night! the scars are all still there, but no active bleeding or open wounds anymore. ]
The climbing couldn't have been easy. [ ... ] No offense, but you don't really look like the kind of guy who does a lot of strenuous activity.
[ hi tem we are outside of the church. ichiban is nice and aware enough that he does not force temenos to go inside... so they can just. vibe before the entryway. ]
. . . Does this place not jive with your faith's aesthetics?
Well, I could do without the plants. [ he's so tired of plants
but otherwise! temenos doesn't seem to mind it too much - he reaches for the handle on the big door to nudge it open. ] Beyond that, it's not that different, really. Churches are just churches, in the end. Come along.
Really? I always thought they were different from each other, kind of like how there are different shrines and temples based on the gods you worshipped.
[ he is very :o as they go inside... take me to plurch (plant church) ]
which is to say, sometime after the decommission announcement, ichiban is tracking temenos down to deliver a stack of shirts in various colors and styles, all bearing the cotton candy-colored visage of the late harley quinn. ]
[ it hits much differently, does it. temenos will take one off the top of the stack, and looks at it - huffing a little noise that might be a laugh, though it's somber. ]
...thank you, Ichiban. [ these shirts are ridiculous she would love these. ] Apparently, the week Sora died, she was able to see the proceedings of her trial. Perhaps Harley will have the same.
[ happy week six! temenos is out and about this morning....? actually, he's out in the jungle biome. it's hot and kind of sticky. why is he here.
the answer, as it turns out is that temenos is currently getting headbutted by... this!
the good news is that it's roughly the size of a horse and definitely doesn't seem aggressive. in fact, it just kind of headbutts him repeatedly and he's like - half laughing, half trying to grab it by the antlers to get it to stop.
[ this is a very good question. when ichiban first sees this happening, he's about ready to jump into action and counter tackle the . . . beast, but he stops when he sees temenos laughing! that's... a good thing, right??? ]
[ ichiban is helping clean stuff up in the ballroom after today's death-free reveal... he's got his arms full of leftover curfew t-shirts when he comes over to temenos, a sheepish sort of look on his face. ]
Hey, Tem. I know this is kind of a weird ask, but... you wanna come to the trash room with me?
there's a little bit of a ? look in ichiban's expression as he watches temenos, but... he decides not to ask for now. ]
Yeah. I know it kind of takes away the whole point of the shirt to send some to our friends on the other side, but I can't find it in me to leave them out of it, heh.
i'm just yeeting us right into a memory. congrats on stepping into the memshare void, ichiban. ]
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[ when the apothecary and the cleric emerge from a small bedroom within the cathedral of the order of the sacred flame to talk to the pontiff, grim expressions on their faces, you're right there beside him, and you can tell with just one look that things can't be good.
you're barely ten years old, too tiny for your age, and holding onto the pontiff's white vestments as he speaks with the apothecary in hushed tones, tiny fingers clutched in expensive silk. you'd think he wouldn't know you were there, were it not for the way his hand comes to rest very gently between your shoulderblades, as you listen to the apothecary when she takes off her gloves.
"His fever's very, very high, your excellency. We've done all that we can, for now. Just in case, if you'd like to say goodbye..."
the pontiff nods, and thanks the apothecary and the cleric, who nod their heads and step out of the way. the words echo in your head like someone's slammed their hands into the church organ - "say goodbye?" - and your head whips up to look at the pontiff, who looks down at you.
he kneels to your side, and reaches to cup your cheeks. you can already feel the tears starting to well up in your eyes, and the breath you take in feels sticky and heavy in your chest; the pontiff's expression is kindly, and he wipes the first tears that drop free with his hand. "Temenos. It's alright: let's see to him. Perhaps he just needs our encouragement."
you swallow back the lump in your throat and nod, and the pontiff stands to bring you into the small room.
the bedroom is yours, of course - it's the same one you've slept in for years now. the bed on the right is unoccupied, but in the bed on the left is a child, laying flat on his back underneath the covers, a cool cloth on his forehead, his dark hair pushed backwards. he's bigger than you are, older - this is, of course, roi mistral, the pontiff's other foundling, and your best friend, your older brother. he is your constant companion - you follow him starry eyed around the church, study scripture with him and listen to him talk, spend hours whiling away at the histories and learning hymnals and tending to the church's smaller duties with him, because he's like the sun. you've always seen roi as this figure ten times greater than you, but today, he looks so... small.
just the sight of him in that bed, shivering and wheezing softly, makes the tears well up in your eyes again. the pontiff keeps his hand between your shoulderblades and you grip even harder at the material of his cassock as you make your way over to the bed, and stare at roi, your lower lip quivering as the tears start to fall down your cheeks.
the pontiff leans over to brush roi's sweaty hair from his forehead, frowning. the room smells like medicine and sickness and death - he's so pale, so still, so wrong, and you're terrified, suddenly, to think of a world without roi mistral.
as the pontiff kneels, you come to join him.
"Let's say a prayer for him, shall we? Do you remember the proper order?"
you hiccup the right answer as you drop down. ] Bifelgan, Aeber, Draefendi, Brand, Sealticge, Alephan, Dohter, Aelfric.
[ the order you've been through a thousand times. pray to the gods in the correct order, and your prayers will have better fortune. your prayers are more likely to be answered. lessons you and roi learned together.
"Very good." the pontiff says, quiet and approving even under the weight of what must be his own sorrow - he looks for a moment longer at roi before he clasps his hands together and you follow suit, dropping your head down and mouthing the words. it's automatic as you make your way through each one, and the pontiff pauses slightly towards the end, and changes his wording. you listen attentively to him, hanging on the words.
"Dohter the Charitable. Giver of life, protector of health: Comfort and relieve your sick servant, and give your power of healing to those who minister to his needs, that he may be strengthened in his weakness and have confidence in your loving care.
Aelfric, the Flamebringer. May your light guide Roi back from the brink of death, as it has guided us all away from the darkness. We pray that you will lay your healing hands upon all those who are sick. We beg for your compassion on all those who are suffering so that they may be delivered from their circumstances."
he pontiff's hand falls on your back again, and then he pulls you into his side to give you a hug. you take in a deep, shaky breath and someone calls the pontiff's name - a soft "your holiness?" from the doorway. he releases you from the hug and stands, and after a moment, is called away, leaving you in the room alone.
the apothecary's words echo in the back of your head. "say goodbye."
you can't lose roi. you just can't. but there's nothing you can do, is there? you're ten years old, and you don't think of the logistics of medicine, or the holy magic the older clerics can wield in all of its warmth. you can barely do simple spells, but you look at roi, and your faith is as strong as it always is, as it will always be.
the gods will save roi. if you just pray hard enough, if you just call out to them enough, they'll save him. they'll save him. he's done nothing but good, his entire life. he holds your hand when you get lost, wipes your tears when you cry, helps you when you scrape your knee running up the hills to the cathedral with him, teaches you how to read and write, shares his snacks, whispers secrets with you at night by candlelight when you're supposed to be asleep. he's your best friend. he's your brother. he is good, and he has to be saved.
you feel determination and - no. it's desperation, for a lost child. it's complete and utter terror, and despair, and you reach out to the thing in your life that is the source of all of the goodness you have. you hiccup, and you clasp your hands together. and you pray. ]
Bifelgan, may you watch over our markets and keep them hale. [ between a hiccup and a sob. ] Aeber, our less fortunate, that you keep the wickedness from men's hearts. Draefendi, the huntress, for full bellies and endless bounty.
[ desperation colors these tiny prayers, this tiny voice, as you reach out to every god you know. it feels almost silly, sometimes - why would the god of dance care about saving someone's life? - but you do it anyway. you kneel by that bed with your hands clasped together and your head bowed on top of your hands, resting on the edge of roi's bed, and you beg the gods to save his life. I'll do anything. I can't do it without him. Please save him. Please save him. Please save Roi. Please. Please. Please.
you pray until your knees are numb, and you cry the entire time, until you're wrung out into nothing. you put your entire heart and soul and your faith - your strong, strong faith - into saving his life. it's not much. it's all you can do.
who are you, if not the faithful?
--
years and years later, roi mistral recounts this tale to the pontiff when you're sitting at the dinner table. he's laughing as he does, and the smile on his face is so genuine that it brightens up the entire room, even if he is being tacitly embarrassing. as usual.
"I woke up the next morning, and I touched something, and I realized the covers were wet. I thought I'd wet the bed! But I realized it was just because Temenos had fallen asleep with his face on it."
your ears are burning as you roll your eyes from behind your teacup. your crybaby days are long behind you, at twenty five. the pontiff laughs, and roi continues, animated and warm as he turns his attention to you, "But, you must have prayed all night, and with the gods as my witness, my fever broke. Surely, you're the reason I'm here, aren't you?" ]
Or, [ you say, lightly, lofty ] It's the Grapewood Panacea that the apothecary managed to get from the town next door.
[ roi scoffs, a ha! noise, and claps you on the back, hearty. it rattles you a bit, because he's the stronger of the two of you. "No, no. Your prayer for plenty saved my life. We always knew you'd be a powerful healer, didn't we? "
in the years that have passed, you know your answer - the grapewood panacea - is the correct one. roi's shining faith in the abilities of the church, and really, in you, are characteristic of him, and the reason why he wears the inquisitor's mantle now. his optimism is boundless. you feel the urge to put a pin it and prick it, mostly because it's your duty, even if self-imposed. reality checks are your forte.
you look at the tea in your cup, idle. ]
Hmm. Perhaps. I feel that Aelfric must have chosen me. When you use the holy magic, does a choir start to sing in your head? Does he not speak to you when you pray? When I ask him a favor, he says, "Of course", and that is what happened that night.
[ roi stops midway through picking up a spoonful of soup and delivering it to his mouth, blinking at you with wide, stunned eyes. it is almost comical, how fast he freezes, and asks, "What?"
a long moment of silence passes. roi's mouth works open and closed, and he begins to look and sound awed. "Really?"
you smile, cheerful as can be, and deliver your answer with no mercy. ] No, of course not. [ and then, with a touch of mischief and a touch of a scold, you add, ] Roi, must you be so gullible?
[ and roi just sighs, heavily, and kicks you lightly under the table, as the pontiff laughs; you smile to yourself, small and private, as you sip your tea. ]
--
[ five years later, roi bangs on your door in the dead of the night. when you answer it, he's wild eyed and terrified, holding an ominous looking archer's bow between his hands. he tells you of the bow. he tells you he's going to get rid of it - he tells you where it was found. as the inquisitor, it's his duty. he has to get this thing away from flamechurch, and as fast as possible. he's always like that - heroic, brave, brilliant. you've never seen him look so scared. (to 6:17.)
roi looks you in the eyes, and he says - "The church has secrets. Extraordinary, terrible secrets."
and before you even have the chance to say goodbye, he's out the door.
you will dream of those words for years afterwards: roi disappears into the night, and never returns. ]
--
[ however. when the memory fades, temenos and ichiban still stand in the void, and standing before them is this creature. its massive, tongue lolls out of its mouth, and it stares at them both with unblinking, eerily bright white eyes. it doesn't attack, or lunge, or even move. it just takes a heavy, ragged, pained breath.
there's a lot on ichiban's mind, but nothing makes it out of his mouth; none of the words seem to coalesce into anything cohesive. there are emotions tied to each scene, at least, all of deep empathy resonating with temenos's feelings—desperate anguish at roi's illness, fond exasperation at his naivety, the notion that something is very, very wrong at his terror.
and then, this creature in front of them, that same one from the biome who had been ever so curiously playful with them despite its grotesque form...
. . .
as he did before, once ichiban has his own sense of self back, he reaches a steady hand out to the creature as he begins to connect the dots. ]
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w1, tuesday
anyway. what a fuckin day. after having to be a Literal Worm for a couple hours, temenos is decompressing by... having a glass of wine in the bar, because can you blame him. he's scrolling on his iris, too, though it seems mostly mindless.
when he notices ichiban come in, he gives him an incline of his head in greeting. actually... ]
Hmm. Ichiban, perhaps you can help me with something? If you might be so kind.
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w3, wednesday
temenos is bracing himself for something horrible, but the memory that plays is not that.
It starts in a tavern with Hikari and Throné, on your average evening in Solistia... (7:54 - 9:39, unvoiced) ]
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Wow... I knew about Necchan, but I wouldn't have pegged you to be such a softie too, Tem...
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[ temenos is usually a good liar but there is no recovering from THAT particular memory, because "my heart is sweating" was the worst lie in the world and also
he looks a little misty eyed even at the memory. embarrassing. ]
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w3, sunday
Hey. [ ... ] Necchan told me what happened.
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he's sitting somewhere, a cup of tea in his hands, but despite his general grandpa-drinking-his-nighty-tea-at-9pm posture, his look is very, very serious, his eyes sharp, like he's assessing him. ]
Did she, now.
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[ he meets temenos's gaze with an unfaltering one of his own. ]
I know you don't need me to tell you, but you're real lucky to have her in your corner.
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w4, sunday
...stupid question, I know, but how are you holdin' up?
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he's in the medbay like a good boy, though it looks like at the moment he's just bandaging his hands. when temenos hears ichiban, he looks up! and then... aw, he huffs a little laugh. ]
I feel as though I should be asking you that question. [ gestures him over closer? come here. ] I'm fine.
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[ approaches... to his credit, he does look significantly healed up since last night! the scars are all still there, but no active bleeding or open wounds anymore. ]
The climbing couldn't have been easy. [ ... ] No offense, but you don't really look like the kind of guy who does a lot of strenuous activity.
[ he's nicely saying "you're a twink bro" ]
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w5, tuesday
. . . Does this place not jive with your faith's aesthetics?
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but otherwise! temenos doesn't seem to mind it too much - he reaches for the handle on the big door to nudge it open. ] Beyond that, it's not that different, really. Churches are just churches, in the end. Come along.
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[ he is very :o as they go inside... take me to plurch (plant church) ]
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w5, friday
which is to say, sometime after the decommission announcement, ichiban is tracking temenos down to deliver a stack of shirts in various colors and styles, all bearing the cotton candy-colored visage of the late harley quinn. ]
Well... as promised.
[ ... it hits differently this week. ]
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...thank you, Ichiban. [ these shirts are ridiculous she would love these. ] Apparently, the week Sora died, she was able to see the proceedings of her trial. Perhaps Harley will have the same.
wk 6, monday
the answer, as it turns out is that temenos is currently getting headbutted by... this!
the good news is that it's roughly the size of a horse and definitely doesn't seem aggressive. in fact, it just kind of headbutts him repeatedly and he's like - half laughing, half trying to grab it by the antlers to get it to stop.
what is happening here ]
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Uh... that a friend of yours, Tem?
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oh. a voice! the creature suddenly like sticks its head up over temenos' shoulder, alert? it goes !!!!
temenos glances back, relieved to not be like, headbutted. ] Oh. [ a friend. ] ....Apparently? Truthfully, I have no idea what this is.
[ the creature stares at ichiban. its eyes are glowing and white and completely unblinking. jiiiii ]
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w6, friday
Hey, Tem. I know this is kind of a weird ask, but... you wanna come to the trash room with me?
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jumps a little when he's addressed - startled. is the back of his neck a little red? he holds still and then. ]
... You ask weird things often - sure, I'll come with you.
[ and then exhales like weirdly relieved. he will come and hobble his way over, using his staff like a walking stick. ] Making a delivery...?
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[ HE CAN'T DENY IT...
there's a little bit of a ? look in ichiban's expression as he watches temenos, but... he decides not to ask for now. ]
Yeah. I know it kind of takes away the whole point of the shirt to send some to our friends on the other side, but I can't find it in me to leave them out of it, heh.
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week 7, thursday
i'm just yeeting us right into a memory. congrats on stepping into the memshare void, ichiban. ]
--
--
[ however. when the memory fades, temenos and ichiban still stand in the void, and standing before them is this creature. its massive, tongue lolls out of its mouth, and it stares at them both with unblinking, eerily bright white eyes. it doesn't attack, or lunge, or even move. it just takes a heavy, ragged, pained breath.
doesn't it look awfully familiar? ]
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there's a lot on ichiban's mind, but nothing makes it out of his mouth; none of the words seem to coalesce into anything cohesive. there are emotions tied to each scene, at least, all of deep empathy resonating with temenos's feelings—desperate anguish at roi's illness, fond exasperation at his naivety, the notion that something is very, very wrong at his terror.
and then, this creature in front of them, that same one from the biome who had been ever so curiously playful with them despite its grotesque form...
. . .
as he did before, once ichiban has his own sense of self back, he reaches a steady hand out to the creature as he begins to connect the dots. ]
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