Afterparty

[latinumsbetter]

[After the execution finishes and the culprit is once more dragged down into the Earth (he watches Snow be dragged down, with a pursed-lips look), and Typhon gives his goodbye, Quark doesn't wait in the silence this time. Instead, he says, arms folded:]

Well, since we're all doomed--[sarcasm, dry and acrid, edging a black humor]--then no better time to get a drink.

The bar’ll be open. Even if you don't eat or drink, stop in. [That's said with a side-glance at Leb. He then turns to look at Ferdinand, Aoi, Ranma, Cerejeira, and Vanity.] Ferdinand, you're gonna help me set up. Cerejeira, Aoi, you're behind the bar. Ranma you're in the kitchen. Vanity, if you've got more of that coffee, we could use it. Let's go.

[and he turns and walks out of the Arena. So...post trial, the Eatery’s been moved into bar configuration. There's a few more faces behind the bar again. Once again, there’s been several of the extra togas gathered and folded to be used as blankets. There are some dishes, light but filling for those that don't want to eat much, courtesy of Ranma.

Cerejeira, Aoi and Quark are behind the bar, the latter watching the other two like a hawk and teaching and helping when he needs to. They're all there to serve drinks, however. And Ferdinand? He's been relegated to the Dabo table. Maybe the first couple buttons of his shirt has been unbuttoned. He's paying off his tab!

The door is open.]

Comments

[markofnobility]

[that makes him laugh from his chest, leaning back on his hands to watch the moon for a moment]

You know... I... am glad you are here. With me. Right now- but also...

[ he guestures to the entire compound from their loftly perch]

In general as well.

[stringup]

[ ...Velvet can't remember the last time that someone expressed they were happy for her to be around, and for a moment she isn't sure what to say. She leans over to follow where Ferdinand is gesturing. ]

Why so?

[markofnobility]

You mean beside my selfish adoration?

[ he flashes a grin at that, but his tone remains oddly serious and quiet]

Quark and I had a long talk earlier this week. He told me a story of impossible odds and foolish young men. But along with that he said that... regardless of my crimes before coming here, being here was not only a second chance but something deserved- that I could not waste my life again.

This place is a miracle. Even if Typhon kills us all I believe that being here was providence. I am happy all of us deserved the chance to be part of it, even if Snow White was right and it is doomd from the start. Becuase it means we were able to meet. All of us. And you and I.

[stringup]

...Someone I know would probably say that the fact this was even possible means it was fated, in a way.

[ Godsdamned Joyous Day, ever the romanticist. ]

And...if you ask me, this whole thing being "doomed" doesn't make a difference, since there's always an ending, anyway.

[markofnobility]

Hm. True. Everything ends. Every man, every country, every story. But I find the ending less compelling than what led to it. Even a tragedy can move the heart.

[stringup]

...Of course you'd think that.

[ But she says this with fondness. ]

[markofnobility]

Am I so obvious?

[...]

I bring it up because... even with just the small about of your life I have learned about, I worry. I am simply dead- but I know now there are worse possibilities.

[He turns to look at her, eyes intense]

So... I will pass on what Quark said to me. You do not have to go back. You can start over.

[stringup]

[ ...

Velvet can't decide if she should be worried or touched at how much Ferdinand seems to love her. ]

Even after all the things I'm complicit in?

[markofnobility]

I am not innocent either. Though the war crimes of an invading army general and enforcing the will of dark gods may not be that similar.

But if you are willing to grasp it, I think you should.

[stringup]

[ Is she willing to grasp it? There are days when, it seems, she's only still here because she's too ashamed to face her brother and sister in the afterlife, if they'd remained there to begin with. Can she really just start over when a moment's lapse has rendered her stained to the depths of her soul? She left the Lover's service because she was abjectly miserable, not because she thought she could redeem herself. It feels arrogant—self-delusional, even—to think that she can truly atone, no matter how much she tells herself she will no longer participate.

It's almost funny. Velvet can't remember the last time when someone has looked at her the way Ferdinand is right now, or pleaded for her sake. ]

...It's not fair when you're the one telling me this, you know.

[ It makes her dare to hope that she can still walk a sunlit path. ]

[markofnobility]

[He brings their still clasped hands up to kiss her knuckles]

My power IS finding advantage, after all.

[His smile is crooked, but a bit more sad than his usual masked grins. He knows it isn't easy. He's not sure he won't fall back into misery himself once his recent revelations fade from recent memory. But right now he feels full of shining hope]

[stringup]

[ Velvet is fighting for her life here (furi: trying to keep herself from blushing to death). Why someone like Ferdinand decided to love her is something she will probably never quite understand. ]

And you can say that despite not knowing everything?

[ It's not meant to be a refutation, so much as it is her still trying to accept how Ferdinand seems to keep giving, giving, giving to her. ]

[markofnobility]

Then tell me. All you feel you can. I will listen.

[stringup]

It will only sadden you, you know.

[ ...Right, she supposes she should also warn Ferdinand, because this is a real concern that she nearly forgot about. ]

...And strange things might happen, but that would have always been unavoidable.

[markofnobility]

Like the black blood?

[stringup]

Yes. And, well...other things that most would call "ominous portents".

[markofnobility]

But not dangerous?

[stringup]

If it gets dangerous, that's when you know I've messed up big time.

[markofnobility]

[He nods, decisive]

Then let them come. I am Ferdinand von Aegir and I am not afraid of the darkness!

[stringup]

Big words from a man who can't sleep tonight.

[ That said, she does sound appreciative. ]

...I'll tell you about my old life some other time. You'll just have to settle for hearing about my previous employment.

[markofnobility]

[He gives an affronted huff- from anyone else he would be insulted. But at this point even he can recognize when she's teasing him]

Very well. Should I get comfortable?

[stringup]

You should.

[ ...She should get comfortable too while she contemplates where to start. ]

[markofnobility]

[He clicks his tongue for Derick. The wyvern grunts, annoyed that his human is still doing things this late. He waddles over and with some clearly practiced gestures Ferdinand leads him to lay down, making a warm leather backboard to lay back against]

[stringup]

[ Truly, Derick must put up with quite a bit, Velvet thinks. ]

Where do I start... I suppose you should know two things first.

I...mentioned before that being one of the Exalted means having receiving a god's blessing. Mine come from the Neverborn, who are...put simply, a group of very, very old gods that were killed long ago. They are the type of gods so old that they predate the concept of "death", so when they were killed, they...I guess you can say they didn't know how to die. So they have been trapped in never-ending death throes ever since, dying but not dead, and wish for the pain to stop. My oath to bring an end to all life is an oath to carry out their will.

My previous employer is a Deathlord, a powerful ghost who rules some part of the Underworld. There are several of them, and each has made a pact with the Neverborn, for whatever purpose. I don't know all the details, only that part of it is that they get to choose who will receive the Exaltation from the Neverborn. That's how they recruit deathknights for their individual causes. The Deathlord I used to serve is called the Lover Clad in the Raiment of Tears.

[ Which surely is not an ominous sobriquet in this context, clearly. ]

[markofnobility]

[He listens, brow furrowing as he works to keep up. A god that is both dead and undying is not too foreign to him: Sothis is not too dissimilar. He feels a pang of horrified pity for such a fate.]

The Lover Clad in the Raiment of Tears...

[Just saying it makes him shiver, and he could swear the shadows look longer. But he refuses to be cowed]

It... is an evocative name, certainly.