spellminders | [voice/telepathy, private to chosen 12 + the four mentioned in the post]

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[voice/telepathy, private to chosen 12 + the four mentioned in the post]

[The voice that comes over the signets is a young boy's voice, carefully calm, speaking in a slow, deliberate manner. He's trying to be comforting, but he's not great at it.]

Hello. This is Jay, one of the people working on the plan to get you all out of that building. We're working as quickly as we can, and we're going to get you all out safely. Please know that.

If you're feeling up to it, I have a few questions that might help us establish whether there's a pattern between any of you. This information will be shared with Percival, Dirk Strider, Roy Mustang, and 9S. I don't intend on sharing it with anyone else, and neither do they. Regardless, if you're not comfortable answering a question, you don't have to. I am going to ask, however, that you not lie.

What is your name? Age? Gender? Species?
Are you trained as a fighter, and if so, have you practiced your abilities in Shehui?
What power did Qri give you, and have you practiced that in Shehui?
What did you say to the monitors or government, to the best of your recollection?
Is there anything else you think might have made you of interest to the monitors?
How have the monitors behaved towards you so far?

[He repeats the questions again, slowly, two or three times.]

If you could also keep me updated on your physical condition, that would be helpful.

Again, we're coming for you. Take care of yourselves and each other, stay strong, and try not to provoke the monitors, Jade.

((OOC NOTE: Assume this is backdated some, to the first few days of testing.))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It's not mine to tell. He hates people, and he was afraid for a long time.

This has all been strange for him.

[He accepts that easily enough: he has his own secrets, after all.]

Coming to the coven?

[Geir doesn't keep secrets for himself, but he'd keep one for Vern, if Vern asked him to. he's not actually sure that Vern minds him talking about it, but remembering Vern's nightmares, the grave dirt and the shadows, he's not sure how much Vern would want people to know in detail if he hadn't told them himself. it's Vern's own secret bitterness, like a wound to defend.]

And me.

[from the very first time Geir spoke, it was clear Vern didn't know quite what to do with him.

more broodingly, after another pause:]

We didn't decide not to start Ragnarok right away. I bit a couple of roots first. I wonder how they're doing.

I'm not surprised. You're . . . different.

Was that how you were supposed to end everything? Destroy the Tree?

Yeah. If I'd been old enough and strong enough, I'd have started the war and then bit the Tree right where the Root began, and it'd have been over. Even if the fight hadn't gone like it was supposed to, the Tree would've still died.

It wasn't time yet, though. I hadn't grown enough. First I thought I could just bite all the smaller roots, separately, but... it hurt to watch after...

[not really a literal pain, but Geir had been delighted enough to see the world above the ground that watching the life drain out of it slowly, piece by piece, felt horrifying rather than successful.]

...Vern burned the eitr out with fire when we decided to wait, but I don't know how long they'll take to heal.

Edited 2018-02-02 18:42 (UTC)

[He's silent, thinking about that: a Tree at the beginning and end of all things.]

What made you decide to wait?

[it takes an even longer time for Geir to answer this one, and when he does, his voice is a little faraway-sounding.]

When I woke up, I tore the hillside asunder to get out. Vern's supplies got crushed in the falling stones, so we had to go to a town first to pick up something besides sheep and grass for him to eat. I took him flying.

It was nice to fly together. You can't fly in a torn sky. And he'd die, if Ragnarok happened. Of course he would. Well, I would too, but that's not what I thought about.

[He makes a soft sound.]

There are advantages to living.

There are advantages to dying, too. And to just not thinking about it at all.

Ah, but if Vern died, I wouldn't have him any more. So there's that. I don't really mind being alive or not for my own sake very much, when I don't have anything.

[The lucky thing about this moment is that Jay is too tired to snap at Geir the way he might normally. But there's so much in that that he rejects--has to reject, really. So the voice that comes through is frustrated, a little flustered:]

That's not--you shouldn't--no.

[...there's a thread of amusement or affection or some other wry emotion in Geir's thought; not malicious or laughing at Jay, just. rueful.]

No?

Living is worth it. It always is.

[A pause; a hesitation.]

You'll see.

[solemn and unoffended:]

That's sweet, Jay.

[He pulls a face, though Geir can't see it; they're on more familiar ground now, at least.]

It's just true.

[Geir can tell that Jay meant what he says, and he does it the respect of trying to work through it. being alive with Vern is still dicey, for both of them, though they've settled into it more in the coven; being alive without Vern seems impossible. how could Ragnarok fail to start right then and there, in a world so wrong? how could he possibly move past the only thing of value he's ever truly owned, the only person who made him feel he could make someone else happy?

he feels like he knows how Vern felt when his family died, looking at it this way. the feeling that made him want to start Ragnarok. and that's wrong, because a world without Vern in it is terrible and broken; but it's right, because a world that Vern doesn't want to be alive in simply shouldn't be allowed to exist any more.

people make the world worth it. he knows Vern doesn't think as highly of himself as Geir does, for some strange incorrect reason. maybe if you feel strongly enough about yourself as a person, that can make life and the whole world worth it even if you don't have other people to care about.

he examines his own feelings about himself as a potential person to check whether they're strong enough to support this idea. they're mostly "dubious." maybe he is as of yet a bad test case for this.

but Jay himself must value his personhood, his sense of "Jay," highly, in order to believe it.]

Did someone tell you that, once?

Edited 2018-02-04 07:59 (UTC)

No.

[Firmly, but not angrily; he's not really angry. He's not going to give the honest answer, either, which is, no one told me, I had to claw and scrabble and grasp for it and I almost died. But that leaves him at a loss for something to say.

Finally:]

It isn't the kind of thing someone else has to believe before it's true. As I said. It just is.

...you're very strong, then.

[and, earnestly:]

I'm not trying to argue. It's not that I don't believe you, exactly. Or that I'm not listening. I always, always listen.

You're talking about living for yourself. But I'm just starting to see where "Geir" might start, if I follow that path, and I don't know that I'd care that much about what I find there. You might be talking about the moon, or some far-off star. Someplace I might look at and wonder how to reach; but I can't imagine how the rocks would feel under my claws. Maybe they're smoke or stardust after all.

I don't think you're lying to me. I don't want to make you angry. But there's no Bifrost yet to take me there.

Edited 2018-02-04 08:20 (UTC)

I'm not.

[He doesn't elaborate on that at all. He lets Geir's words wash over him, and--it's not that he doesn't understand that feeling at all. Quite the opposite, in fact. He puzzles over what he can say without revealing too much.]

It's like I said, then. You'll see. You will.

[he doesn't ask for further clarification. instead his reply is baffled, sheepish, almost apologetic.]

That's a really big sentence? I don't know if I trust you that much. But I'm pretty sure you're not lying. I have to think about it.

. . . do that, then.

[There's a slight hesitation at the end of that, as if he wants to say something more, but he leaves it there.]

I will. You're smart, Jay. Thank you for talking to me about it.

[for what it's worth, Geir's attention to the conversation has sharpened a lot, and any perception that he's not engaging with it fully has long since ebbed.

Jay's very aspirational. his personality and feelings about life aren't a ragged web of questions desperately spun out in the dark, hoping something will catch. Geir feels wistful and a bit melancholic about it, but maybe one day he'll be as sure about things as Jay.]

...I guess I'm glad that someone's really sure. Nobody else has really said that.

[He almost adds that Geir should talk to more people, then, but he guesses that most people have never--that they haven't really had to think about it that way. They've never . . . .

(He feels a sudden stab of envy.)

But he should answer Geir.]

You're welcome.

[huh. that went... unexpectedly well. maybe Geir is getting better at this...?]

...do we know where we're going after we escape yet?

[The secret: wait until Jay is too tired to snap at people.]

Out to the outskirts of the city. There are wooded areas we can hide in. Long-term, however, we'll either have to find Qri or break our way out of this city.