fire.

@pyrrhicflame said : the so called 'waloedian weapon' ... Joshua has heard nothing but the faintest murmurs. he needs to verify it himself. but, well. actually coming across the supposed man was not his idea.

"um. hello!" he says smartly. good job, joshua.

EXPELLING THE PHOENIX AT WALOED'S GATES WAS AN ORDER FROM HIS MAJESTY. not at all as happenstantial as one might believe, but part of him is relieved that it worked out this way. now he won't have to fear that sleipnir will try and finish what the sanbrequois started at phoenix gate, and sephiroth can easily feign a won battle without ever once lifting his sword. sephiroth crosses his arms, peering down at the young man before him. he is barely more than a boy.  

Joshua knows. He should not be toeing the edge of the borders, should not dare step upon the ashes of Veldemarke where Waloed was built upon. But he's so.. fascinated, enraptured by the entity that his curious mind needed to slake it's thirst on answers, even if it might get himself hurt. It was the reason he had not brought Jote along with him, for once. He didn't want her harmed.

"Is it not magnificent that I too, do not wish to fight you?" He tries to crack a grin, but it's nervous as best, voice dropping as well. "-- I'm only here to gather information. On you, actually."

But they do laugh, squatting down to meet Joshua's gaze. “Well, perhaps His Majesty was gracious enough to choose me based on skill alone. Have you ever considered that? That family names and connections don't mean so much to him? It might do you good, Phoenix, to do away with all of your biases and notions of how the world works.”

Joshua resents that statement, even as plush lips pull into a decisively petulant pout, brows furrowed too. It might have been cute, were the circumstances not what they were. He tried to wiggle-worm his way towards the bars, not able to do much wrapped in crystal fetters sapping his aether and awkwardly falling against the iron to scowl at him.

"You mean to tell me that Waloed has done nothing on it's history? That your King cleaved a path through Veldemarke and united the warring tribes only for you, their esteemed Lord Commander to not even be a footnote? The world works on this history! If we've naught of it, we'd be no more advanced than the beastmen and --"

His passions on history, and how researched he was on Waloed's founding (some conjecture, he's sure) had him falling a little forward, and now Joshua was slumped on the ground, even more irritated.

The Dominant of Odin slightly tilts his head, curious as the whether the Phoenix truly means to talk or it is merely a ruse. The boy is rather clever, that much Barnabas is willing to admit, perhaps far more clever than Mythos. Still, it is a risk to let down his guard, so he simply lowers his blade. His helmet evaporates to reveal his seemingly calm gaze.

"I am nothing if not civil," he replies. "You wish to talk...so talk. Make this worth my while, Phoenix. Convince me as to why I should not strike you down here and now."

"What purpose would killing me now serve? I don't claim to know the full extent of your machinations, Odin. But I know they must not involve me perishing this instant."

Joshua's brows furrow slightly. He's anxious, understandably. He cannot treat Barnabas like any other man, or that this tenuous ceasefire would extend any further than a few short words exchanged.

"Because it seems that I very well have. Joshua, you are--"

Dion's voice catches in his throat, blinking away the tears that have welled into his eyes. Is this inappropriate? Maybe. Maybe not. But he long believed Joshua to be dead along with Clive. He remembers that night vividly, or, well, the next day, when Sylvestre pulled Dion aside and told him that both heirs to Rosaria were killed in a surprise siege. It had killed Dion. Joshua was his friend. And so was Clive. Or he'd like to think that they were, despite how little Dion actually got to see them in person.

They were dead. And he was not. How did that ever seem fair?

Then Anabella came along and married his father, and Dion had his suspicions ever since, but he never voiced them aloud.

But here Joshua is now, standing before him like nothing ever happened. Of course Dion thinks he's seeing a ghost, but everyone else sees him, too.

"It's been too long, my friend." he notes, pulling away after a while, hands clasped on the dragoon's upper arms as he appraises him. "-- Rumours of my death have been purposefully propagated to ensure that I would not be sought out before I was ready. You know how sickly I was as a child. Even back then, at the Ceremony.."

Joshua shakes his head. The past was past. Now he was here, and it was about time to start moving for the future.

“Have you ever considered that you simply aren't looking hard enough, Phoenix?” Sleipnir muses, something akin to amusement flashing across their features. Of course, though, it comes as no surprise that they're lying. Sleipnir is the only member of House Harbard because they simply made it up. A long time ago, when they were first given mortal form by their wise and merciful King, Barnabas informed them that they ought to think of a name for themself. A family name. Because everyone had one, so it was the best thing to do for no one to question them. Sleipnir doesn't remember where they saw the name Harbard or how they thought of it, but simply that it felt right.

The steady sway of the ship had taken some getting used to: needless to say, Joshua did not have his sea legs. Ironically it helped that he was tied and confined to the small section, he could focus on the dark shadows without getting terribly sick.

There's a certain frustration dedicated to seeking an answer that lays just out of grasp. He knows, deep down, that he's right. He just has no proof, and Sleipnir's silver tongue makes it easy for him to think he needs to restudy every single scroll, scripture and family ledger.

Which, he can't exactly do, stashed on Waloed's flagship.

@pyrrhicflame : " are you sure this is safe .. ? " dubious squinting.

      “ 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬, ” says a man known for his incredible ideas ( don't look clive rosfield ). he extinguishes the embers of his cigar &. leaned sideways against the wooden wall — arms crossed over his chest. “ i'm not overly fond of putting others through things i'm not willing to do myself. ” sure, joshua might incinerate a few trees in the process, but hey ! life is too short.                                      ( literally for dominants like them. )

" I have a feeling we are doing this under duplicitous reasons.. " There was no way Clive would have agreed to this. But maybe that's why Joshua had also went along with Cid's ... "idea". Too long he's had the Undying and then his brother treat him like he was fragile glass about to break at any second.

Squinting over the verge to see the monsters that they needed to take down, it seemed pretty cut and dry. Hell, he's certain the older man could easily wipe the entire group with a snap of lightning-fused fingers. But that wasn't the point of this exercise.

How curious, that the Phoenix had already figured him out. Few ever suspected that he was an Egi, considering how... real he seemed, for lack of better term. Sleipnir was not human, but he was excellent at mimicking them and he could, quietly, admit to himself that he wasn't always sure if it was an act anymore. Sometimes he felt more human than he ought to be.

"If you understand my nature, then you ought to know that incineration would not keep me away for long," he replied, perfectly calm despite the threat. Indeed, if he died, he would simply be 'reborn' – which was an amusing though, considering who he stood before. As long as his liege lived, he would never truly die. Even so, he found rebirth to be... uncomfortable. It always left him disoriented and wrong; needing time to find himself again.

"You are both fascinating and frustrating, little Phoenix. Someone of such fiery nature like yourself should not be able to hide in the shadows."

"It may not truly be rid of you for good, but it would take care of the present problem."

Of being pinned down by him, at his mercy. Joshua did not want to prime, or even semi-prime. Whereas Barnabas seemed utterly immune to the curse, the Rosfield seemed barely hanging on a thread half the time. It frustrated him that he knew so much and yet so little.

Sleipnir is one such mystery. Discovering he was an Egi was no easy feat and that was about the extent of Joshua's knowledge. He hated that he wanted to know more: how did Barnabas create something so complex? Just where did Odin's will end and Sleipnir's own begin?

He struggled harsher against, then forced to settle because he really did not want to wind himself by his own actions. If only Clive were here.

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