Corona Immortalis

May the Moon be witness to silken reds.

Study in: devourer of all that is dark, moonlit knight why do you bleed, O' Mother Moon guard me as i guard you, to be exempt from Life & Death, evil of legend parading amongst mortals, arrowhead strikes first and true, beware of the knife once it aims, tis but a medic's duty to save lives, evil basking under the moonlight glow, weaver of nightmares & maker of dreams, the monster under your bed, one's own meaning of immortality, the pleasure of pain, promises for the future.

Sunlight peeks throught the cracks, a semblance of warmth if nothing else.

Its all ringing in his ears, the room abuzz with incessant noises, & a voice he could barely register throught it all. ''A̷w̷a̷y̷,̷ ̷s̷t̷a̷y̷ ̷a̷w̷a̷y̷!̷'', one would expect it to be directed right at whomever took to tightly embracing in this episode of turmoil but nay...

Shadowy figures comes erupting out of Lohen's shadow, scampering all the way to the back like scurrying rats scared out of their wits. Some looked very imp-like, the mischievous sort of folklore creature, other were condensed black mist apparitions, with no real shape to them.

They stood there, behaving like minions whomst failed their boss, talking to themselves; noises between haunting whispers in the wind & hollow chitterings.

''A̷-Aw̷a̷y̷,̷ ̷s̷t̷a̷y̷ ̷a̷w̷a̷y̷!̷'', the vocal distortion comes spilling forth once again, this time aimed at who so much as grabbed onto him while he intended on turning away, if for fear of what might occur should Lohen so much as to look at Furina.

An impossibility now that she steeled herself & reached out, in spite of how burning the aura felt; not so dissimilar to carelessly outstretching arms in the heated oven to grab out baked goodies.

At his feets, a feeling of frost dances to life. Spikes of Cryo comes jutting upward around them both. A reply to the swirl of emotions he was drowning in, a defense mechanism against who held onto him, held his face most of all. Yet, these shards grew no further than at the duo's ankles, hardly threatening to graze skin or plot to wound.

Lohen

Lohen.

He can hear someone calling at him, is there even someone?, anybody...

₱ⱠɆ₳₴Ɇ, ₱ⱠɆ₳₴Ɇ ₴₮Ø₱ ₮₳Ⱡ₭ł₦₲

Words that do not appears to come from his mouth but the surrounding walls, bouncing like a small ping-pong ball. There is an apparent desperation to them, a struggle to fight for self-control.

Someone is holding his face & yet, there is no abrupt movements to yank them off as if utterly touch averse.

No... it feels warm.

Warm, delicious, human.

And still, Lohen does not aim to tackle whoever is right there, free for the taking. And still, gloved hands jut upward, grasping the wrists of his invader?, food.

I̷ ̷c̷a̷n̷'̷t̷...

They rattle; the words, cut off like a knife splitting cake for pieces.

Its so warm & the ghoul can no longer remain slack, unresponsive. Tentatively, whomever is braving the volcano that is his active aura, Lohen grabs at them?, her?, closer to him, like threatening to swallow whomst is invading his personal space.

He does want to admit at it, the word that will follow but...

''Please, i can't...'', distorted still, there is a shed of light in his gaze.

I can't breathe?, i can't ask for help?, don't come any closer!

What should he be asking...?

Someone is gripping his face so boldly, braving both fiery aura and the frost-mist at the feets & for what?.

Somehow, in all of this, 'Lohen' finds himself leaning in the gesture, canting his head to one of her palm, like crashing onto a cozy pillow after a hard day spent dealing with people, with work.

'Sides, the word Drude, Druden in a collective sense, are not very well-received in the streets of Mondstadt, even less so in Dornman Port since its where they hunted first, caused at the first casualties.

''Whoever decide to spill you-know-whose name, deserved a whack on the head, or a dagger'', at the spine.

A silence easily follows at the sight of pristine white suddenly emerging onto the table of treats and other items.

''Well this is disappointing''.

An inner thought he keeps buried, meanwhile he stare at the letter inched closer towards him when Furina took ahold of it. He stare as threatening to burn the entire item so preciously intended to him, wanting nothing more but watches its ashes take flight in the wind & never return.

So much for wanting a time to brace himself. Lohen fixate that letter with such intensity that even he does not notice. A lenghty minute tick by and despite not outright snatching that sealed item like a wild animal that hasn't eaten in so long, his movements are still betwixt sharp & hurried to startle.

''.....''

He supposed the fact Furina admitted to having peeked at the message within, is a reasonable curiosity, even if she had nothing to do with all that occured between him and Focalors.

In an absence of hesitation, would the nonhuman open up this letter meant for he, eyes glossing over each & every words, even the ones that were blurred, that yellowed with time, felt rushed.

So that's it then...

A part of the Drude wants to laugh, the smallest of stifles 'pon recognizing whose writing it truly was, recognize at what he, himself, brought up multiple decades ago.

Don't you have a real wish then?

But the laugh fails to blossom. He does not want to chuckle, & Lohen was certainly not the teary-eyed sort.

No, what he wants to do is...

A loud snap is what unfolds before even realizing something was thrown well across the entire cafe. In a matter of measly seconds, a chair, his chair is what got flung so violently to the wall, causing the piece of furniture to quite literally blow up like out-of-control fireworks but not quite bouncing off to hurt anybody. The impact had left this wall cracked, like ice field threatening to collapse & send the culprit in its frigid waters, like glass that has been given quite a beating, little marks staining reflection.

The room shakes uncomfortably but still remains stable enough. Light scarcely flickers in response to Lohen & the literal jumpscare he most likely induced to the one person he intends on helping, well if she has stopped being... so uncooperative.

''S̷̼̺̓͛o̶̲̐̔ ̸̦̾ͅţ̴͇̚h̸̺͈̒a̴̯͌̑t̸̞̋̕'̶̢̛̜s̷̼͠ ̷̞̟̂ǐ̷̗̺̇t̴͇́͋?̷͎̄̎!̸͕̾''

The room goes into a monochrome phase, losing all colors & lighting, like black and white on film, minus the occupants. His eyes, Lohen's irises are just about painted in a pure magenta color, no black pupils, no ivory white gleams to show life in them. & No sooner was the Drude enveloped in a dark aura, teeths gritting against each others, if in a desperate attempt to not crumble here and now.

Because he knows what happens otherwise & it will not be pretty.

He should be glad, happy perhaps, that Focalors finally found a last wish to fulfill before well... no, he shan't repeat himself like a record stuck on loop.

But in truth... he feels nothing, just like back then, in the early times.

It was all over again, just like the old man. It was to be expected but even so, it does not mean Lohen made peace with that, not completely, much to the letter having appeased it.

The curse of becoming so attached, he surmise to himself.

He wants to laugh, maybe even smile but nothing comes out, other than anger, an inner fight to not forgo skin and clothes & go hunting.

Truthfully, his words passed her right by, gone with the breeze. There was a small giggle to acknowledge the returned affections and yet, in no way was Myrene truly well & done with this, not one bit!.

''Watcha doin' getting all softie on me, c'mon gimme better than this'', an alternative phrase to basically mean; is that all you got.

Still, she takes the first step again, a kiss with far more fervor to it and with no intent to pull away just yet.

Ha!, what good would apologies do in these circumstances?, sorry does not bring back anyone. & Lohen has no need for pity nor comforting words.

He is well past that, begrudgingly so however. He is no stranger when it comes to Death; wheter patients with incurable illnesses, the knights that fought his species once upon a time, or the final decision taken by Focalors herself.

Briefly, his arms lift into a shrug, almost dismissive. ''Eh, materialistic are far easier to replace, so don't sweat the small stuffs'', and as the master of his creations, Lohen decide what disappear and what recreate itself. Though, of course, not every little things gets to be the illusory sort, one can bring out real items, the same goes for food, thanks to the concept of Inventory for those with the means.

Something for him...?

While it did not draw his attention by a landslide, perhaps due to the gnawing dread at the back of his mind, he still very paid mind to what Furina was hoping he'd be merciful; to let her go if for that something.

Instead of immediately giving her a response, show acceptance to that request, his head shifts all the way to the side as if looking past the cafe's closed doors, which would only led outside, in the streets of Fontaine.

He ponders in allowing it, closing his eyes, biting back remnants of irritation because of what transpired; the floor's mess that is no more but a thing of the past.

Then, Lohen stared right at the other, ''do i look like the kind of entity that would tell you to be somebody else you are not and that you never will be'', because god forbid does he knows that feeling so well, to be someone else but equally the same entity, to be evil spirit in origin & yet human in design.

After all, The Weaver is Lohen and Lohen is The Weaver still.

Hm, mayhaps for him, there is no real duplicate and that alone is why he sees Furina as well her own self, the same very applies to Focalors.. or once did.

Matters of identities are not foreign to the Vice Captain anyways.

His head canted, back to gazing at the place's exit, ''you don't need to entirely leave this dreamscape to head on home, your house and its contents are still real here, so you can go get the thing'', that something intended to him. ''The real people though, no'', beside he has eyes everywhere so any secret attempt for help will do nothing.

Deep down, Lohen had an inkling of what awaited but it did not make this any better.