citylogs | [closed]

[ it's not the fear, kaveh thinks. it's the shame. it's in the set of the young man's shoulders, it's in the wide deer-lit eyes of his countenance, it's in the way he looks at kaveh as if kaveh has taken all of him into that bleeding heart of his and with his hands squeezed. kaveh suddenly tastes blood. he realises it's because he has bitten through his lip.

kaveh has always loved teyvat. he has always loved the land of his home, the singing springs and the gentle whisper of wind through the trees. now, kaveh has a reason to hate it, the world that did this to him. ]

I won't. [ kaveh says, and stands there. ] I won't. But I also will not leave you alone. Not in this story, not in this one either. I know I don't have the right, Wanderer - but listen to me.

Let me bear your story.

You— [ That comes out as a growl, aggressive, disbelieving, choked up ] —you don't know what you're asking for.

[ It's like a bad joke, all of this. Kaveh, asking to bear his story. A story that weighs four hundred— no, over eight hundred, really, because even the modified history, his wandering, his solitude, his empty pleadings for a purpose, a sense of belonging— that too is a part of his story, and a part of who he is now. He isn't simply the Kabukimono, Kunikuzushi, and the Balladeer. He is also the nameless wanderer whom has never found a companion to be close with in his lifetime, and— if it has not been for Nahida and the Traveller, he thinks he never would.

All of this is who he is, and this man wants to bear his story? The snarl on his face morphs, as his body does, from defensive and scared, to open, smug, maybe even a touch deranged, as a bark of laughter comes out of him. ]

A mortal, trying to bear my story? That's rich! You don't even know half of the things I've done or seen, and you want to bear my story. Hah.

[ And the anger is back, smoldering in his eyes as he levels a glare at the architect, the angriest he's been since he first learned the truth of Tatarasuna. ]

Don't you dare try to take my sins from me. They are mine, and mine alone!

Edited 2023-12-02 13:30 (UTC)

[ the young man is a typhoon. he is wild, eastern winds and tower waterspouts. he is the wind that comes to tear your roofs from your homes; he is the wind that carries ships far from harbour. he is the knife's edge of a winter storm, and he is the solemn eddy of a funeral shroud. this is the young man. this is his grief.

kaveh, who hails from the land of sumeru, where the rain never stops falling - kaveh bears the monsoon. of course he does. you don't know what you are asking for, the young man says. kaveh thinks - he doesn't, and he does. because he doesn't need to understand what he is asking for to ask for it, to begin understanding the shape of it, to declare his intention to do so. the only thing kaveh needs, the only thing kaveh has ever needed, is a chance.

and the only thing this young man needed - is also a chance. he was never afforded that chance. kaveh is furious. ]

They are yours. [ kaveh asserts, in the face of that anger, his red-rimmed eyes bright. his voice rises. of course it does. ] Of course they are yours. In your years of suffering, only you carried the shape of them. You grew into it, the shape that was best meant to carry them forward. At times, they were all you had. At times, they were all you were. I saw that empty cavity that contained your heart. But Wanderer, only you believe that there wasn't a heart in there to begin with. That belief, too, is yours!

[ because kaveh had felt it, that trembling grief. kaveh had felt it, that horrific shame. kaveh had felt it, that quiet yearning. kaveh cannot look away. he steps forward. he doesn't mean to. but his words carry him forward, because that's all kaveh has ever done. he walks forward - ] Just as you cannot take my sins from me, I cannot take your sins from you. But there is more than one way to bear a sin.

[ kaveh says, ] I will bear witness. I will bear your silence. I will bear your turned back, I will bear your condemnation, and I will bear your grief. You are more than just the weight of your past. That is what I will bear. And if I cannot bear the weight of your sins, then know that I will bear you.

You have felt the beating of my heart in your ribs, Wanderer. Look me in the eyes. Tell me that my heart is not strong enough to bear yours.

[ He speaks like he understands, claims that the drifter has a heart—and then the Wanderer understands, too. Understands that the architect has never truly known him, because of course, how could he? He doesn't know the Kabukimono, or the Balladeer. He can't know what's been removed from Irminsul—what he deleted with his own hands. The puppet has a heart, Kaveh claims, and he knows then that mortals could only pretend to understand the immortal. Just as he will never be one of them, they will never know him.

And still, he claims that he can bear the weight the Wanderer carries. So desperate he is to bleed for a heartless puppet, even though he has someone else next to him who values him more than anything in the world.

It makes him unbearably, indescribably angry.

It starts as a low chuckle, a faint shake of his shoulders as he comprehends the utter absurdity of the situation. Then, it grows, louder, uncontrolled, crazed, as he laughs harder than he ever has before, as the Wanderer. Laughs like he's the Balladeer again, a broken puppet in the throes of a mad dance. He laughs for a long time, but eventually he manages to calm himself enough to speak. ]

Tell me, pathetic mortal. What makes you think you're worthy of bearing my silence? My condemnation? My grief? What makes you think your puny fragile existence could withstand even a fraction of what I've gone through? I was not made to mimic a human, or did you forget already? I was made to be a god.

And you will pay, for thinking you could measure up to a god.

[ Without a warning, he lunges at Kaveh, hand outstretched towards the architect's neck. ]

[Alhaitham lunges. It is in much the motion of Hat Guy, a hand outstretched. The click of a heel against wood that leads Alhaitham's body in between them, and Alhaitham's hands move for Hat Guy's collar. His reach is for a grip, a twist, as Alhaitham attempts to throw Hat Guy to the ground in a single motion.]

[ He wasn't once the sixth Harbinger of the Fatui for nothing. He reacts with ease to Alhaitham's sudden intrusion, dodging under the Scribe's hand and using the momentum to launch a sweeping kick in an attempt to destabilize him. ]

[ the young man's hand reaches for kaveh's neck.

in no universe would kaveh allow his fingers to reach for nothing. kaveh has said what he means to say. he will defend the words with his life. kaveh breathes in. he makes to block the blow -

and find a man in front of him. alhaitham is beautiful in motion. black, and green, and he is a shadow upon the wanderer. the young man dodges beneath the narrow clip of alhaitham's swing, his feet lashing out in a kick. kaveh draws back with a shattered breath. all of a sudden, he is glad that in this world, they are still powerless. they are as powerless as the puppet that the young man represents, he thinks - this is a boon, because if alhaitham had his sword, kaveh would not be able to protect that young man.

but here: ]

Wanderer, I have known a god, and so have you. Do you think either of us measures up to her? The answer is yes, you fool - because even gods have troubles that mortals can bear. And if you asked Nahida, she would say the same. [ and then, in that same breath: ] Alhaitham, don't hurt him! He hurts himself.

[Hat Guy dodges. Alhaitham, in turn, spins on his foot to jump over his swinging leg. There's a fluid transition to a wide-legged kick of his own, aiming for Hat Guy's side.

It's pure instinct, is the thing. He had been watching, listening, observing. Kaveh's heart had beat in a puppet's, once. Kaveh asserts the strength of it, and then things rapidly escalate. All Alhaitham sees, then, is what will be hands around a neck. And Kaveh will not die like that.

It's a small mercy that Kaveh stands back. Because it's Kaveh, who may have run in to interfere, it's Kaveh who can't leave well enough alone, and at least in this moment Kaveh is behind him.

It is the only reason he's willing to deescalate this way, as a wall in front of Kaveh, staring down at Hat Guy.] Stand down. None of this is helping us get out of here.

[ Alhaitham's kick lands against the Wanderer's forearm as he blocks the hit and jumps back, putting distance between him and the duo. He's angry still, raging in his mind as the Balladeer, but it's the nameless drifter that tempers his actions and stills his hand.

The schemer continues to run calculations in the back of his mind. He knows Alhaitham shows restraint because of Kaveh, and how could he take advantage of that to kill them both—but he acknowledges the logic in Alhaitham's words, though it does nothing to calm his anger.

Perhaps this is what he needs though, to proceed with what must be done. He was afraid, before. To bear Kaveh's heart once again, to repeat the tragedy of Tatarasuna, to be mislead, deceived, and sunk into despair—but it's different, if he willingly takes those sins for himself, and makes it truly his and his alone. What is the heart and blood of mortals to someone who is destined for greater? Who cares for the insects they crush on the path they walk to their glorious future? ]

Oh? Then do you want the honours of carving his heart out? Will you sacrifice your love, and then yourself, to me?

[The breath that sucks in through his teeth is sharp. Alhaitham stills in the way that prey might still to avoid the gaze of a predator. It isn't Hat Guy that bears down on him, but the unavoidable end of this. The first had been a heat-death Alhaitham had turned away from. The second was the slow agony of suffocation by his own hands. The third would be blood.

Alhaitham's hands curl into fists, until his nails carve into his palms. His shoulders are tense.] Don't mistake my intentions. I don't want the end of this story, either. But how many of these have you been able to turn from their script?

Edited 2023-12-03 06:51 (UTC)

[ kaveh can feel it, the way alhaitham sucks in his breath. the way that breath punctures his mouth, his lungs, his body, as if it were a spear, a knife, a sword. the breath is sharp the way that pain is sharp, the way that grief is sharp. kaveh knows its meaning. he is once again asking alhaitham to do something cruel. the young man in his grief will experience something crueler. kaveh is not a kind man, or a good man, or a decent man. he is only kaveh. and the story has made it so that this is the only way forward.

slowly, kaveh shakes his head. ]

Not once. [ kaveh says, softly. ] Not where it counts.

[ because there had been another script that had run its course. of course there had been. ]

And I am not glad to make Alhaitham hold my blood and heart in his hands. But I will give them to you. I would have done so even if this weren't a storybook. Not as a sacrifice. But as a prayer. A prayer that you will come to know that you are not alone.

[ Always, always, always, the architect continues not to think of himself, but for the broken puppet who is trying so, so desperately not to break under the weight of the architect's kindness, because a sinner like him could never deserve such a thing, so long as he has crimes to atone for.

The Balladeer is a part of him. But he is not the Balladeer. And it is not easy to be so callous and cruel as he once was. He burns in the warmth of Kaveh's eyes. There is a monster churning in the empty cavity of his chest, clawing its way up into his throat and trying to escape through his mouth. Its struggle can be heard in the tremor of his voice, as he tries to hold onto the rage of the Balladeer to push himself through this. ]

Your prayers mean nothing to me. A god stands alone in his eminence. If you're so ready to kill yourself for your misguided ideals, then die.

[Alhaitham's hand snaps back. It grabs for Kaveh's wrist in a vice grip.] Are you two done circling this conversation? None of this is productive. We can try to redirect this to another end or we can go straight to the script it wants us to do and get out of here. Nobody here wants to do this but we don't have any other choices.

[ 'if you're so ready to kill yourself for your misguided ideals, then die' the wanderer says, and kaveh nearly smiles. yes, kaveh thinks - he has died before hasn't he? over and over again, in a holding pattern just like this, over ideals that may never come to fruition. but they were kaveh's ideals to die for. if not kaveh, then who? rather, it took a certain kind of requisite strength to live for your ideals, and kaveh didn't have that, not really.

this, kaveh doesn't say. instead, with a single step forward: ]

Luckily for all of us involved, you're no god, are you? [ kaveh tips his chin, ] And even so, not even a god is capable of judging my ideals. Yes, I've been trying to die, and I've no compunction over it being for you - Alhaitham!

[ alhaitham's hand snaps out for kaveh's wrist. instinctively, kaveh tugs against it, and then finds himself wound back much in the way of a reeled fishing line. the red of his glare turns itself first on their joined wrist, and then to alhaitham proper -

kaveh looks. and then, slowly, kaveh takes in a deep breath. he lets it go. ]

... you're right, though. Maybe there is another path forward. I doubt it, but it's worth exploring.

[ He's tired, all of a sudden. It is inevitable, he thinks, that he will have to hold Kaveh's heart once more, and on top of that, he will have Alhaitham's blood on his hands. What exactly was he fighting against? It's all meaningless in the end.

Why is it that Kaveh is so eager to throw his life away? Would it be the same, if there was no guarantee he would come back to life? Even when he has so much passion, so much ambition, and so much love surrounding him? He envies Kaveh so much, and hates him for his willingness to throw all that the puppet couldn't have away so easily.

He lets go of the anger, and lets the cold, bitter void in his chest numb him to his own feelings. Anything else but the searing emotions threatening to burst out from his eyes as tears. ]

...do as you please.

[ The words are quiet, and he stands there, waiting for the other two to give him direction. ]

[Kaveh agrees to it. Alhaitham's grip relaxes. His shoulders follow when Hat Guy acquiesces.

He closes his eyes for a moment to think. When he opens them, his attention is on Hat Guy.] If the story needs a lesson, wouldn't the best one to replace it with be for the puppet to accept himself as he is, instead of trying to become something else?

[After all, if the puppet decided he didn't need to be human, could live as what he is, there wouldn't be any need to sacrifice his creators.]

[ the young man stills. it's as if, kaveh thinks, the strings of a puppet were cut, and what's left behind is not the rage and bluster of a script well-written, but the actor himself. a puppet meant to mimic the gods, by definition, is not a god. all creators have a wish when creating what they had. kaveh hands had molded clay and sundered stone for the pure wish of having a dream actualised in a world where dreams have gone to die - he has sewn for warmth and forged for safety. he has loved, and loved still. so what did the creator of a puppet meant to mimic god wish for in that moment when they had taken machinery to form?

and what did a puppet wish for?

kaveh's anger halts. it halts in the palm of alhaitham's hand. alhaitham relaxes his grip, and for the first time, kaveh allows it, that final step back. he looks. ]

... only if that is the puppet's wish, is it not? [ what did the god wish for? kaveh has only ever known the perspective of the god. he has never taken on the perspective of the palace. ] But I think we are asking all the wrong questions. Why would a puppet want to become human in the first place? What is it about humanity that attracts wishes like these?

[ What had the god wished for, when creating this puppet? What had Ei wished for? He was a prototype for the Raiden Shogun, but, perhaps he would have still had a purpose had he not shed tears in his sleep. Perhaps he would have worked together with the Raiden Shogun—his sister—in ruling Inazuma in Ei's stead. Perhaps he could have had his mother's approval. Perhaps.

Perhaps.

But he can never know what he was really made for, other than the fact that he is capable of accepting a Gnosis, and therefore that must have had something to do with his purpose.

(It is a function that not even the Raiden Shogun has, for Ei eventually decided it was a function not needed, and sent the Gnosis to Yae Miko instead.)

What did the Wanderer wish for, now? Why did he want so desperately to become human? To have a heart, just like humanity? He answers truthfully, because he's so tired right now. ]

I... I wanted... everyone seemed to understand what they had to do. Everyone seemed to have a purpose at the forge, but I was... the odd one out. They were all so kind to me, but it felt like there was something in between us, because I wasn't human. Because I was different.

I wanted to belong. I wanted to be a part of them. I didn't want Nagamasa and Katsuragi to keep looking at me so warily, because they knew who my mother was. I wanted Niwa to treat me like a proper swordsmith apprentice instead of treating my curiosity as a whim from the strange Kabukimono. I wanted...

[ He trails off, trembling. He wanted so much, so badly. ]

[This is not the story. This is Hat Guy. Kaveh's hand slips free and Alhaitham crosses his arms as he regards him.

He wanted purpose. He wanted to belong. And Alhaitham is a man who has always stood away from others. He is someone who grew with the blessing: being different is a gift.]

People find purpose in a society not only by their similarities, but just as much by their differences.

[ kaveh's heart aches.

there had been a kshahrewar junior just beginning to cut his teeth on the diatribe of his betters that summer. they called him the urchin of the kshahrewar because of his voracious appetite for annotations - and because he didn't have a father. not really. to the eyes of those looking from above, that was as good as an orphan in their midst, a child that didn't belong. it had started there. kaveh had never wanted to stand out. he had always wanted to belong.

it was the kindness, the gentle words, the jokes and the warmth. your inner world was already a place of chaotic thought and crippling loneliness. kaveh simply thought that it wasn't wrong, to not want to be alone.

then, he had met alhaitham. ]

It isn't wrong, to want that similarity despite your differences. Nor is it wrong to be different. [ is what kaveh says. because he had met alhaitham, and that hadn't shaken his ideals. just as the monsoons break themselves over sumeru's canopy each season, so does too kaveh's ideals stand in the buffet of criticism and know itself to be true. but ideals can change shape; they can grow. ] The ones at the forge seemed like they stood apart from you not because they perceived a difference in you, but because you perceived a difference in yourself.

Even apprentices to the same master can be treated differently for who they are. If they didn't treat others the same way they treated you, then something changed their behaviour. [ kaveh looks. ] The difference you perceived in treatment, then, can only be described as love.

[ He remembers the look in Katsuragi's face the day he took the puppet in. He remembers the discussion him and Nagamasa had. 'I can only deal with you in this fashion. Do not hold this against me,' he had said, looking apologetic, but the Kabukimono hadn't understood it at the time, why he looked that way. He didn't understand why he always looked that way, when the inspector looked in his direction.

He remembers the smile on Niwa's face when the puppet expressed interest in sword smithing. He remembers putting his all into learning, and the surprise in Niwa's face when he showed him the first sword he made. He remembers that he was always treated kindly, when the other apprentices were treated strictly. He thought it weird, that he was not treated the same.

He remembers everyone's smiles, their eyes lit up in joy, every time he helped them. He remembers their concern and their worry for him, and how warm that made him feel.

Why was it that he felt like he never belonged? He doesn't remember that anymore, because he's lived for so long, and he understands humans much better now. Kaveh is right—it wasn't because he was a puppet. It was because they loved him.

And, for the first time in centuries—for the first time since the tears that caused him to be abandoned by his mother—he cries. He sinks to his knees, bending over as sobs wrack his body, as the full gravity of his own actions sink in—his sins suddenly feel impossibly heavy, and they crush him under the weight of it all. They had never betrayed him. Not once. But he— but he—!! ]

I'm sorry, Niwa, I'm sorry...!

[ kaveh pulls the young man into his arms.

there had been a child desperate to find his place in the world. there had been another in the house of daena standing aside from his cohort, a single bird excluded from the flock. perhaps it had always been kaveh's fate, kaveh realises, to see the loneliness in others and to want desperately to respond in kind. the pain, the sorrow, the grief. wasn't it kaveh who said it to midnight, that they didn't ever grow up from their mistakes, just grew into the best shape to carry them forward? but wasn't it netzach who said so, that if loving someone wasn't a miracle, then he didn't know what is?

you can be both the grief and the love. kaveh's known that for a long time. his mother had been both. so had he. so had alhaitham, who had watched his grandmother die. so had this young man. he merely remembered the grief, not the love, because the body wasn't meant to carry the shape of a love that hurt so much. midnight had been wrong after all. love did hurt, but not because it wanted to. but because it needed to be remembered.

sorry, the young man says. kaveh holds him there, his hand carding through the young man's hair. kaveh says, ]

It's alright, Wanderer. [ soft as dust. soft as dust. ] You're not alright, but you will be.

You will be.

[ He cries and cries and cries, cries four hundred years worth of grief. He cries for his family in Tatarasuna. He cries for his family that was the ailing, nameless boy. He cries for the family he never got to have in Ei and the Raiden Shogun. He cries for all the families he destroyed in his misguided revenge. He cries that his erasure in Irminsul could not save anyone. He cries, head against Kaveh's chest, against the beating heart he can hear so clearly, that he must take it from its rightful place for them to get out of here. He cries for Alhaitham, for he would have to witness his love die before him before dying himself.

If only he didn't exist. If only he never existed...!!

No. He cries, because he so badly wants to be here, to fix everything he made wrong, to be here for Altria, who is as lonely as he, to take Kaveh's hand in friendship, because he admires the architect so much, to discuss with Alhaitham the nature of this world, because he trusts Alhaitham's judgement. He cries because he wants to be by Nahida's side, to help her as she guides Sumeru to a brighter future. He cries, because he wants to see the Traveler once more and apologize for everything he's done and more.

So he cries, and keeps crying.

Eventually though, the tears dry up. Not because he is done crying—there is still so much he would shed tears over—but because there is so much more that he must do.

He pulls away from Kaveh, rubbing away the last of the tears and controlling the hiccup of his sobs. ]

I'm... [ sorry? Alright? There's so much he wants to say. But he looks up, at the two of them. Kaveh and Alhaitham. Two people who embody humanity in its beauty. That's what he thinks of them. ] I'm ready.

[ Ready to draw this fairy tale to a close. ]

Edited 2023-12-11 08:48 (UTC)

[Alhaitham stands back. He doesn't avert his eyes, but he also doesn't draw attention to himself as kaveh swoops in. Kaveh whose heart bleeds more readily, who cares more naturally, and understands better than Alhaitham that desire to be part of people, as a whole.

That's fine. Alhaitham won't mold himself to something he isn't. He's a silent witness to Hat Guy's grief, and nothing more.

And at the end, Hat Guy rises shakily. He pulls himself together with resolve. He says I'm ready.

Alhaitham doesn't need to clarify what. The story won't actually let them divert its path. It won't allow the puppet to find peace in itself.

His fingers dig into his skin. That's the decision, then.] Alright. [Alright.] So am I.

[ the young man cries. kaveh holds him. it is the only thing kaveh knows how to do. he knows, is the thing. kaveh knows.

kaveh knows what it's like, to look into the distance, and fail to see the brightest way forward.

slowly, the last of the tears die. kaveh's hands, which have found themselves against the wanderer's back, gently rubs circles of warmth into his shaking frame. there's the impetus to reach forward and wipe the young man's tears away from him. but even kaveh knows that in the moment, that fragility is the most that the young man has ever allowed. he observes the salt-tracks that the tears have left behind, and, with a firm nod, looks up. ]

Alhaitham. [ kaveh says, and meets alhaitham's eyes. there is trust there. there always has been. when the world needs to fall, it is alhaitham's judgment that kaveh will always rely on, because in the end, trust has always been a choice.

kaveh chooses to trust, even as he questions: ] ... will you be alright?

[ there had been a bridge, and a flooding pile. there had been blood. and kaveh - in those final moments, remembers, that alhaitham did not have a chance to close his eyes. ]

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sorry, jumping in... lies down on athuria

pets gently

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