letsplayamurder | Week four

Entry tags:

week 4,
weekly log

Week four

Two more of your fellow gods, your companions, your friends, have met their end together. As you turn in for the night, and a new week dawns upon you, it's starting to be a bitter experience. Just how much of this will you be forced to take?

But all isn't just despair. The morning is brighter than the last. The storm clouds that previously plagued almost every day have dissipated, and this week brings plenty of sun and a friendlier breeze. Not to mention, another floor of this strange temple has revealed itself. Whatever lies within is your domain, not Typhon's. Keep it tight in your grasp, because you never know when you'll lose it.

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Quark's Bar

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[Quark's fingers close around Ferdinand's wrist, now]

Ferdinand.

[It's not...exactly gentle. It's firm, as he usually is. But it is, perhaps, a smidge softer than he'd normally be.]

[ just looking away is not enough under that grip. Instead he squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head violently.

He could pull his hand away easily, but he does not]

Ferdinand. [Now his voice does go softer, edging gentle, but still firm.] Look at me.

Edited 2025-08-03 10:15 (UTC)

[his eyes squint open a bit, like looking into a too bright light. They are already drenched.]

I have already lost the honor of my name, my people, my life... and now you wish to take my pride too? When my purse is otherwise empty? I... did not take you as a cruel man, Quark.

[He looks almost confused, and a bit hurt at that, drawing himself up somewhat]

I'm not.

[Quark's eyes narrow, searching Ferdinand's face, clearly looking for something, trying to put the pieces together. After a moment:] ...what, do you think I'm comparing you to that commanding officer or something?

Ha, if only. To be remembered as a foolish but brave commander would at least be something.

You wish me to admit my death was a waste. That the war I gave it for was a fool's errand and not worth returning to. Is that not it?

[Quark huffs out a harsh breath at that]

I'm not comparing you to any of those kids that died that day.

[that is decidedly not gentle--it's annoyed, edging frustrated]

I'm comparing you to my nephew.

[ and that takes what little fight he managed to scrounge up out of him, his face collapsing in grief]

... that is... a kind thought. But Nog is a starstruck young man who tried to save who he could. I am a imperial warhound with delusions of grandeur at best. I would not wish to insult through the comparison.

[ his own later words to Omega echo back: do not think for a moment that a cause makes one any less of a killer.]

It's not kind. [snapped, insulted] I'm not saying this out of kindess.

Nog was the only one on that ship who was an ensign. Even if the former Captain had made that other guy the Commanding Officer, by all accounts he had rank over those kids--several of whom were his age. He could have been the voice of reason. But he wasn't. Jake was, and they threw him in the Brig for it. He was a non-combatant. A journalist.

[he blows out another breath]

And if we're talking delusions of grandeur, Nog was made chief engineer. That'll go to anyone's head, just as much as being made a general would be.

[ he curls in on himself a bit, looking the part of a scolded child somehow regardless of his size advantage on Quark]

I... do not know what you want from me.

[Quark sighs, some of the fight going out of him at that]

Look. I'm comparing you to Nog because you're similar in that way that you both got caught up in something that nearly killed you. [it's not the only similarity, but that's not importantright now.] Nog got lucky enough that he managed to get out. You were lucky enough to have Athena make you an offer.

[it's his turn to quiet now, fingers loosening around Ferdinand's wrist]

When he got back, instead of getting out of Starfleet, Nog just went right back into it. With even more dedication.

Edited 2025-08-03 11:55 (UTC)

[he looks uncomfortable, finally looking away himself, down at Ferdinand's cuff]

You don't have to. Just because you're alive again, doesn't mean you have to go back there, alright? You've proven your loyalty enough.

Have I? I wonder... if perhaps my loyalty is a poisoned thing already. There is... something about my war I have not told you.

[Alright that will get him to look back up at him]

What's that?

[slightly wary because that's not ominous at all]

[ he takes a deep breath- he's avoided talking aout the war in any detail and that is coming to bite him. But it is what it is.

Two days from now, when Typhon threatens their shame, this is what will rise in his mind]

In my homeland, there are something called Crests. What the are specificly does not matter here, but know that they are inherited by bloodlines. They are said to be gifts from the Goddess, and those that are blessed by them have divine right to rule. I have one, in fact. This is not just a physical fact, but is built into everything about Fodlan. Our culture, our reigion. Our land is built on this belief down to the bedrock.

Crests passing on is not a given. Noble families wll discard children without them, trade them between each other like fine breeding stock. Keep their crested wives bearing child after child in hopes for one until her body fails her. And if the nobility suffer this I am sure you can picture the horrors visited on those "lessers" who have not even a drop of such a 'gift' to barter. Lives of forced destiution with no hope of rising outside it. No education, no opportunity outside service to a lord who sees them as less than human.

This is the power structure Edelgard, my Emperor, set out to destroy.

[ but his dark expression suggests it is not as noble as he told it weeks before. But he gives Quark a moment to process his words before continuing.]

[He's quiet at that, listening. His mouth tightens into a line. Eugenics, then, performed at a time when it was even more dangerous to perform than it is now. His stomach turns, and he swallows.]

That's...yeah, alright. Not a bad idea.

[understatement, but there it is]

Edited 2025-08-03 15:10 (UTC)

Indeed. In my deepest heart I still think Edelgard's intentions were kind. Brutal, but kind. For our children and their children's sakes.

I do not know why she seemed compelled to rush these massive changes. What demons drove her. Why she did not just expose the Church and give the other leaders a chance to change their hearts. I may never know. I was never in her confidence the way Hubert was, no matter my efforts.

But... you must understand, Adrestia is but one of three nations on Fodlan. And all three of them were borne from this same rotten root. And you can not simply weed your own garden- the root must be purged completely.

We were not revolutionaries. We were invaders.

[...ah.]

...you attacked the neighboring countries.

[ he nods, eyes screwing closed for a moment as the shame overwhelms. He gathers himself quickly to continue.]

I... had the chance to flee, once I realized the depth of her intentions. I have allies in the Alliance- they would have taken me in. But... I thought if I stayed I could soften her hand with my counsel and support. At least make the initial attack fast and brutal enough that the other leaders would surrender quickly and avoid more death.

Then things just... continued. Battles dragged and frontlines barely moved and before I knew it is has been five years and my hair is midback and I am bleeding to death under my own fucking horse!!

[ he covers his own mouth in shock, as if being angry about his own death was some grand sin. Mumbled under it:]

What a sick joke, to realize you are a villian long after it is too late.

[Quark blinks when Ferdinand snaps, startled, and then for a moment he feels sick at that little mumble, the shame--

He swallows, once again feeling like he's teetering at the edge of out of his depth. For a moment, he frantically tries to think of what Ezri would do. What would she say that would make this better? Unfortunately, he is not Ezri, so he comes up blank.]

[...but then, he's not Ezri. They don't have a counsilor here, and he can't be that. He can be only himself and hope that'll do the trick.]

...alright, kid, c'mere. [Quark shifts his grip, one hand keeping at Ferdinand's wrist while the other moves to his elbow, taking some steps towards the raised edge of the rounded plateau that the statues stand on. He means to take Ferdinand with him and sit them down on the edge there.]

C'mon. We're gonna sit down for this.

Edited 2025-08-03 16:54 (UTC)

[ he goes just as passively as he alowed Quark to adust his cuffs before. Only now the panic attack that action delayed is coming back in a fresh wave. He feels like he might faint. Or vomit. But all he can say is:]

I'm sorry. I should not have yelled.

[Quark huffs at that] You call that yelling? Try working at the bar when the klingon fleet docks. Now, that's yelling.

[he sits them down, keeping his hand on Ferdinand's elbow.]

Alright, now I need you to look at me, because this is important.

[He looks, eyes too shiny but focused]

[he looks at him, seriously, each word said very deliberately and with finality]

You are not a villain.

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cw: religious and cultural oppresson, eugenics, forced birth

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