glimpse the unknown for a moment...

"Well lets see."

"She stinks and smells of arrogance. She'll be a big cheater, and have Grandma mood swings. Way too into selfcest, with how many puppets of herself, which has the same face, and voice of herself for that matter. Any more flaws you can name hm?"

Eating. Eating. Eating.

That presence in itself was akin to an emotional violation that couldn't be named. It burned similar to that violet abyss that he stepped inside of, alongside the Nameless and newly made allies. He wasn't sure if there was a true relation, but that didn't stop his instincts from holding onto that clue, left unvoiced as he'd rather just take this golden moment of rest set between them. Instead, he'd reciprocate the tender gesture, allowing the stir of his gratitude to coalesce into a more tangible feeling for their souls.

Solutions didn't need to be always given, no, for the roaming Nameless it'd be her very presence like this, that offers the core kindle to his inexhaustible strength. Even after all they've done, Caelus couldn't hide the earnest fear that festered like spikes upon the soul. That encounter with ego, the way he felt so oddly vulnerable despite the way they've slain godlike incarnates of chaos.

...

Why did he feel that way?

"Without a doubt." It was no mere bravado either. Set within his tone was a strength looks different. Once upon a time during the years they've known each other, it would've been attempts to stifle any hints of his weakness to Herta. Somehow, their shared time made him balance it all. Uncertainly finds comfort in the steel of his heart, the fetters of fear situated with a warm courage. By the day, his inevitable showdown with the Aeon of Destruction looms like a blade upon the neck.

Yet, set before his eyes was one of many reasons, yet the most important reason as to why he'll never stop digging deeper, never stop being true to himself. His fingers pressed upon her back and shoulder as that wellspring of will made him dare to smile, brief but true.

"Find the very people who are just a stubborn bunch as I am. The traces of the Nameless, even after all this time ol' Dicehead couldn't do a single thing to truly tear down the key they left behind."

The Voracity? Asat Pramad? Even the manipulated malevolence of wishes and grim wills alike? Hell, the IPCs mistakes no less! No amount of these hellish odds was going to crush the light they've forged through their respective tales. The Elation has leveled a sense of growth that made Caelus feel oddly.. at ease. "If there's one thing the journey has taught me, its that the true answer is never at the end. Nameless will always leave what's most valuable upon the road, and know the true inheritors will figure out exactly what to do."

....

"I've felt something interesting too. Sleeping here isn't just doom and gloom entirely. Rather, the people here haven't given up what truly shines deep down. I was able to parse it all with the Stellaron." !! Now that he thinks about it. A sense of wonder crosses him as he glances upon himself, then towards Herta.

       It came as a comfort to know that her presence appeared to help, allowing Caelus to ease that tension in both muscles and mind and relax, even if just for a short moment of reprieve. Herta could still sense that his thoughts were preoccupied by what he had seen, what it would mean for Planarcadia and the Aha Games, exactly how he and the others were going to counter a Lord Ravager as cruel and unpredictable as Asat Pramad — but that was good. Questions needed to be asked. Potential problems needed to be raised. And, even if she could not swoop in with the answers this time around and demonstrate her considerable value as an ally to the Nameless, she could at least help guide him towards answers of his own.

       Her first-hand ( and second-hand ) experience of the Elation could be boiled down to two things: the havoc that the simulated Aha could wreak in the Simulated Universe, and Screwllum's account of his duel with that Punklordian brat. For two creations tied to the Erudition to struggle in the face of such unbridled chaos only affirmed what Herta already knew: that her usual skillset did not apply here. Aha flew in the face of the calculated certainty that Droidhead mapped onto the cosmos.

       She was curious what Caelus had to say in response to her question, though laughed when he actually spoke, “ As stubborn as you? ” She glanced up at him somewhat dubiously, though it was difficult to ignore the calm, collected ease in his voice, at odds with that uncertainty roiling underneath but present nonetheless.

       And when he came out with something strangely wise, despite her initial surprise Herta couldn't help but hum in approval. “ The answers are never as important as the questions. ” Shifting in his arms slightly, she couldn't help but glance down at where her own Express ticket was fastened to her skirt. Despite her familiarity with the workings of the Astral Express and its crew, she was still learning what the word Nameless meant to her personally. But the focus on the journey, the art of moving forward in her relentless pursuit of the boundaries of knowledge... that was a feeling she knew all too well.

so i just wanted to make an official post ahead of time to note that june is going to be a busy month for me and to expect far less activity across the board ! it's a big birthday and so i have some birthday and non-birthday related plans ( hi @imbricare i get to see you in just over a week!!!!!!! ), and i'm also off on holiday from the 15th june. i will be attempting to put together a queue of replies for while i'm away, so if you see less writing from me over the next couple of weeks it is because i am likely stockpiling lmao

“you wanna thank me,” voice even, too conversational, a blade wrapped in velvet, “get me into the editing booth.”

some kind of unholy quartet, strings pulled too tight, knotted and humming between the four of them. most of the time louis lives on the outskirts of it, a careful orbit. he’s got his own demons to manage, if manage means lopping heads clean off, hands made sticky and warm, violence rendered intimate through repetition. daniel’s choice of mentor, in the absence of anything resembling a role model, is unwise at best, catastrophically fucked at worst. 

then again, where else was he meant to turn?

“he won’t mind.”

       Get me into the editing booth. Daniel couldn't quite hide the bark of laughter in his voice at that, his smile revealing the glimpse of fangs that now replaced teeth. He put the wine glass back down on the table; if there was one thing Louis was right about back in Dubai, it was that all other food and drink had suddenly lost their taste and appeal. Still, he had never been much of a wine drinker anyway.

       “ Yeah? ” Daniel arched a brow at him. Where once he might have been worried, nervous about provoking a cold-blooded murderer in a private apartment with no other witnesses ( though ultimately it had never stopped him ), he could now at least meet that predator's gaze, in a public space such as this restaurant, as a peer instead of prey. “ Controlling the narrative much, don't you think? He tells me he wants to take back that control, tell his own story. ”