2017-07-22: Giving Way to Life
- Log: Giving Way to Life
- Cast: Riesenlied, Gwen Whitlock
- Where: Lacour
- Date: 22nd June 2017
- Summary: Gwen runs into Riesenlied in Lacour, and hides her in her wagon as they talk.
<Pose Tracker> Riesenlied has posed.
Riesenlied's had a difficult time in the last couple of weeks -- following the destruction of Old Petra, and her and Noeline's flight to Gounon and eventually, Lacour. Her contact with Id has left her -- harmed, damaged; she's been in fits of pique and anxiety, gripped with a kind of invisible fear from time to time. She's recovered since then, but even she has her quiet fits of pique from time to time -- in the midst of travelling through the market, she sharply feels an edge creep into her mind.
What's wrong?
The maiden in shamanic clothing laughs very gently, dropping a small knife to clatter against the ground. The chair is broken.
Why look away?
She struggles for a moment, but she must keep going onwards. Can't exactly fall down in the middle of the street. She thinks back to what Noeline did to help her -- count, breathe... work through it...
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
It's not Gwen who first notices Riesenlied there. Gwen has her eyes glued to the road, trying to be mindful of the crowded streets with her new, bigger wagon. And, with the cover up, it's not that easy to really take a look over her shoulder.
Gulliver, meanwhile, is unconcerned with the needs of being courteous to the people (with a lower case p). He just wants to do what his Person is asking, regardless of whether it's a thing he particularly cares about. The familiar cloak of Rieselied's catches his eye before it manages to catch Gwen's. He angles for it.
The first indication of concern will be the soft velvety black muzzle snorting at Riesenlied's cloak. Granted, 'concern for others' is a heady concept for a horse, especially Gulliver. In his case, it's probably more the possibility of a Person they know having a Food.
... Which instantly draws Gwen's attention, as this means Gulliver is misbehaving. "Whoah, whoah there." She slows, then follows the line of his neck and head to the struggling cloaked form of Riesenlied. "Oh hey! Didn't think I'd... see you here. With all the people here."
Why is Riesenlied here?
"You okay? You can hop in the back if you need a ride." It's not safe for Riesenlied to be out here.
It's also possibly not safe for the people, as well.
<Pose Tracker> Riesenlied has posed.
Riesenlied lets out a somewhat frightened gasp, which -- is at the same point when Riesenlied's eared hood kind of falls off. "A-aah--" she trembles just for a moment, before realising who it is, stroking at Gulliver's muzzle. "Oh... um--"
She swallows quietly, before nodding very slowly as she looks to Gwen. Her face looks a lot paler than usual, and there's an agitated trembling with how she moves. She's rather shrunk with how she's moved into herself, but she does pull up towards Gwen's carriage to sit at the back, not far from her.
"Thank you..."
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
Riesenlied's response is enough. "Get in. The cover's up, so you don't have to worry about people looking at you." It's one of the reasons Gwen opted for this 'upgrade': it provided a sense of privacy and shelter, even if getting the covers on and off the hoops got occasionally tedious. With Gwen's skin as prone to burning as it was, even this sort of shade did wonders for avoiding the dangers of sunburn.
And here, it's provided yet another benefit. "If y'need any help getting in from back there, lemme know. I'll give you a hands up."
It was different when Gwen was picking up food from Riesenlied in the forest. There, it was only her, Riesenlied, and, well, at least once, Mr. Balderdash. Who may or may not be Vash. There, the concerns of the world, as well as the attack and its consequences, were far away.
A few passersby give Gwen some choice dirty looks for stopping where she has. Judging her.
She's helping out a Metal Demon.
If Gwen was caught, there'd be no amount of explanation that could undo the damage.
When Riesenlied is in, Gwen looks around. "I'm gonna get us to a more secluded area where we can chat. Thank goodness I came across ya when I did. You look like you're about to fall over."
<Pose Tracker> Riesenlied has posed.
Riesenlied takes a very shallow breath as she draws just a little closer, her legs pulled up. There's a faint cough from her lips as she murmurs, "... it's-- it's been a difficult day. A difficult week. Thank you, Miss Gwen." She takes out a handkerchief to dab at her forehead, shaking her head as she struggles to regulate her breathing. She slips her hand into a pouch, and sips from a little bottle of medicine.
"How... how have you been?" It doesn't seem that she needs too much help climbing in, at least. "The wagon is... new?"
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
"It's risky to go outside like that." The courier can't help but lecture the Hyadean, even as guilt twists in her gut. "Is there a place you're staying? I can get supplies for you, provided it's for your benefit only." This all probably doesn't even need to be said; Riesenlied probably has years of experience over her. Maybe decades, even. How fast for Metal Demons age, anyway?
"Yeah. Turns out I unknowingly contributed to delivering a lot of goods to that Adlehyde refugee camp." Gwen belatedly winces at the mention, remembering a second too late of her position. Riesenlied is her friend, and she is a Metal Demon, subject to the same loyalties that bind or drive all of them. "But yeah, got a nice payment from that!"
She fails to mention, like the times before, that she's been placed in charge by that very same client to keep track of those supplies, making the donations of Riesenlied's very helpful in keeping the stocks of supplies for refugees high.
Noah Hawthorne is a very, very busy man.
"Y'like it?" Gwen chances a look over her shoulder at the sitting Riesenlied. "It's still a cramped fit for some things, but it makes a lot of other things easier."
<Pose Tracker> Riesenlied has posed.
"It is lovely," answers Riesenlied as she glances around the wagon for the moment. "And I am sorry. I have not been ... well... following what happened at our village." An uncomfortable pause. "It is gone now... so many of my brethren taken with it. But Noeline has been taking care of me."
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
"Thanks." Gwen's eyes are tied to the road as they casually speak, occasionally directing Gulliver to go down one road versus another, opting for paths more private, if her wagon could manage. With the tournament going on, such pathways are next to nonexistent, however, leaving the courier with no choice but to opt for the next best thing, which slowly leads them further and further away from the tournament's coliseum.
"Is this to do with your condition?" The vague terms are for mixed company; Gwen can't count on an area of hundreds of people to polite decline to listen in. Part of her wants to offer sympathy for Riesenlied's plight, but caution tempers her actions. She reaches behind her to press a hand on the cloaked woman's shoulder, her face still directed to the road. "I stopped by there once, after the attack. What exactly happened there, on that day? It was all strange."
<Pose Tracker> Riesenlied has posed.
Riesenlied lets out a difficult little breath, leaning against one side of the wagon against one of the crates stacked on it. "... Id," she murmurs slowly. "Have you heard of... Garlyle, far to the east? It was a kingdom that disappeared overnight, with nothing left of it but ruin. The reason I first came here to Ignas, amongst other things... was to chase after the truth of what happened. ... to think it would happen again, and so closely..."
There's a rueful chuckle as she shakes her head. "... a crimson Gear, with a pilot with similar red hair, with overwhelming power. I'd advise you to be cautious if you see such a sight... and I'd suggest running."
A frown, as she lowers her head. "It is as you see, then. The Tainted came to Ignas to try to live life outside of our world... and it was all for naught..."
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
"Yeah. The remains of the military still keep poppin' up from time to time." But not since the Metal Demons' invasion, which is a mixed blessing in itself. "So this Id thing is the reason it happened? Is it like some sort of ARM, or the name of the Gear? Or the pilot, even?" Visions of a similar redhead float in her mind. It couldn't be Elly- just because someone had red hair didn't mean they matched that description. Besides, why would she do a thing like that? "I'll be sure to run. If this Id thing could take you guys on, I'm not takin' any chances."
"So Old Petra was a town full of Tainted?" Now in a secluded area towards the warehouse district, Gwen slips into the wagon proper and sits beside Riesenlied. "I mean, it was worth tryin', but why have a town there when Adlehyde was close by? I mean, it-..." She sighs, rubbing the back of her neck. "You probably don't need a rookie like me to lecture you on this stuff. If the attack hadn't happened, you guys could've stood a chance. But I guess, with everyone callin' for war or whatever, there wasn't much you could do."
Watching Riesenlied, a pained expression clouds Gwen's face. "Is there anything I could get you here? Water, or food, or... damn. I don't know how to handle this sort of thing..."
If Riesenlied's state is getting worse, if Gwen was ever going to act, it'd have to be soon, it seemed. "Listen. If I go to Kalve, and have him study me, y'think it'd help you out? I mean, I was sick before I got my ARM implanted, and I was well afterwards, so... Just maybe?"
<Pose Tracker> Riesenlied has posed.
Riesenlied shakes her head, rather feeling guilty that she couldn't be more assuring. The little gnawing teeth at the edges of her mind, the little whispers that seem to pinprick more painfully than any cutting word or blade. "... no, your words are... valid."
Her eyes close rather deeply as she murmurs, "If we could detach from everyone else... to live peacefully... I think we would have. But as it stands... we must live under the shadows of those who still hate, who still harbour... that thousand-year old hatred." There's a despondent-sounding sigh.
"Id is the name of the pilot..." A hesitant pause. "There were Drifters there too, and we... worked together, demons and humans, to... repel him, to evacuate those that couldn't fight. But at the apex of it... to buy us time... I--" she hesitates. "I empathically connected with him. Drawn into a mental landscape of his creation..."
She blinks once and-- stammers, "No-- no, I'm fine..." her eyes widen, however. "To let Kalve study you...?" She bites at her lip. "... is your ARM bothering you? I-- I'm not sure, myself. My illness stems from..." Another hesitant pause. "Well, I was born with bad materials. It's like... being born with infirm bones, or a bad heart, I suppose...? There was no choice at the time. We faced a dire shortage of materials after the Day of Collapse."
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
Riesenlied's words cause the courier to frown and gently shake her head. "No, you just found a pretty bad spot and settled it at a bad time. And what if your bosses forced you to attack from there? Listen." Settling in front of Riesenlied, Gwen presses her hands on the Hyadean's shoulders, smoke blue eyes set on her own. "... You can't give up on the first try, especially with the alternative bein' what it is. You don't give up. The world is big enough for you and everyone else. We all can be here. If you deny that, that possibility dies with you. You just have to choose, and choose wisely, just like in a battle. Strategy, right? If y'lose a battle because of a bad strategy, you learn from it, and use that for the next one. Even if people die. Because now, those people's hopes depend on you. They can't be around to make it true for everyone they left behind."
Her grip softens. "... Sorry, I'm... kinda out of my element, I guess. It's not like I really know what it's like. It's just weird to see you this way, and... I guess a part of me really wants the world to be the way Mr. Baulderdash says. Love n' peace, n' all that. If there's no space for those things, then... there's no space for people like me." A hand goes over her chest, gently laid over her heart. "I'm only here because kind people exist. That's why I act the way I do... because I want others to know they can be that way too."
The name of the pilot is Id. And Riesenlied, to buy everyone time- "Wait, you can... do that?" Gwen looks at the blonde-haired woman, dumb-founded. "Like, connect to another person's mind? W..." 'What did you see' is what she wants to ask, for curiosity's sake. What would it be like, to gaze into another person's mind?
The answer is in Riesenlied's condition.
It is Hell.
"My ARM? Why would you think..." Gwen blinks several times, then waves her hands palms out in front of her. "Nonono, actually, it's the opposite, really! I've lived with this ARM for years, and it's only been recently that it's really been constantly surprisin' me in what it could do. But I don't know the whys and hows. I ain't special- there has to be ways something like this could help other people. You included." She holds up her right hand, moving her fingers in contemplation. "We're talking two different types of material, joining together to strengthen the other. If this could happen for a human, it could happen for a Hyadean too. At least... people like you. People who can change, and adapt."
<Pose Tracker> Riesenlied has posed.
"No... you are right," Riesenlied answers Gwen with a very delicate, dainty smile on her lips. "We bury our dead, we tend to our wounded, we carry on the torch, ever in search of that new world where we can all flourish. Nothing has changed... it just..." she softly sighs, gazing back towards Gwen's blue eyes with her own red ones. "I just... I was just feeling grieved by those we have lost. I know we can't give up."
She laces her fingers together, still planting her hands on her chest as she's wont to do. "... Mr. Boulderdash is correct. Love and peace... they do exist, and there is room for them. But it does not come easy, and we must protect them. Through understanding, through acceptance, through solidarity and camaraderie..."
She looks -- deeply embarrassed, as she murmurs, "It... surprised me too. I tried to reach out to him with all my fibre, all my being -- I wanted to... try to distract him, I said to myself, but maybe that is just an excuse."
She hesitates. "Maybe I really wanted to know... what went on inside a mind of someone who would kill out of revelry."
Her face is disturbed, clearly. "And I saw it, Gwen. The wounded psyche of someone who has been scorned, and harmed before... to the point where they indulge in killing and murder, find glee in it. It's bothersome, and yet... more bothersome is that I can understand... even if just a little... how it may happen to someone."
"I don't know what happened on that day. My power... has never done something like that before. Something is happening to me, Kalve said... I don't know if it's dangerous or fatal... but... it's letting me reach out more, slowly," she explains with uncertainty. She looks to Gwen, though, as she says, "To be joined with another... I wonder if it could happen to me too? I hope so... and-- I'm really glad it's helped you out."
There's a genuine smile. "I think the presence in your ARM agrees too, from what little I can sense of it."
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
Gwen's frown shifts at the revealing of Riesenlied's quiet resolve, brightening like the sun after a cool spring rain. "Sorry... I guess it's hard for me to know what that's like. I hope I never do." The memories of her parents have mostly faded, only present as distant, fragile fragments from a past that seems alien to Gwen now. They'd be the closest thing to Gwen ever feeling even the tiniest bit of what Riesenlied is going through now.
And it's all buried, all with the rest of the trauma, someplace her mind can't reach, pushed further and further away from her mind.
Gwen wouldn't be able to deal with it.
Riesenlied's dealing with it now. "You're braver than I would've been. Gazing into a mind like that... I'd be afraid if some of it'd gaze right back at me. Or that it'd change me."
Or change nothing, because the parts that were needed were already there, all along. "Maybe you're able to do it because of who you are. Some metals aren't as strong, but what they lack in strength they make up for flexibility and sharpness. Maybe whatever went into the making of you was something like that?"
Wait. Did Riesenlied mean that she was born... then? Near the Day of Collapse? How could that even be possible? ".... Just how old are you, anyway? You said 'Day of Collapse', but you look like... well, same age as me, even if y'don't act it."
Not only that, but she mentioned Gwen's ARM, as well. "....?" Gwen tilts her head with an almost comical inquisitive look, pausing to look down towards her ARM, then back up. "You can... hear it? There's a something... in there?"
The unsteady glimmer in the courier's eyes is a warning- whatever Riesenlied may say next just may either frighten Gwen, or bring her to a certain level of understanding. "Is there anythin' you can tell me?"
<Pose Tracker> Riesenlied has posed.
Riesenlied drapes her arms together with that smile still on her face. "... I wouldn't want you to have to experience it yourself. But your empathy... your care is appreciated, Miss Gwen, and I don't say that trivially. After all... it is empathy that got me to where I am, isn't it?"
She rocks at the side of her seat for a moment, glancing towards the light at the edge of the wagon.
"... ah... I never said, didn't I?" Riesenlied murmurs quietly. "I suppose I am ... a score over four hundred years of age?" She tilts her head, chucking very quietly. "I thought it a little impolite to say... but..." she has a faint sigh. "... it is scary. But at the same time, I... feel like I couldn't forgive myself if I shied away. To never know... to never try to make an attempt to understand..."
Her lips are thin as she says, "The ARM on your... arm is of the same vibrance as what I sense. It doesn't... 'speak' on an intelligible level to me, but it is as if I can... sense it out, if that makes sense." She concentrates just a little harder, laying her hand on Gwen's ARM gently...
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
"I'd say you're better for it. Seeing as how you didn't just try to cast off all the friends you've made once the attack started. Even if it would've been easier to."
It would have been so much easier for Hyadeans like Riesenlied and Zed to bury any positive qualities they'd found about the natives of Filgaia underneath all the negatives, and freely immerse themselves in the hatred that would have probably felt so much more justified by their living among the very people they were attacking.
But Riesenlied didn't. Kalve didn't quite do so either, and neither, from the sounds of it, did Zed.
All this, despite being... over four hundred years old. The courier just stammers, almost cutely, as she takes this into account. "H-how? That's... that's older than Mother Ursa!" Gwen, she wouldn't know who that is "She was, like, really old. So old she didn't have any teeth, and she needed a cane to get around, and I had to give her her medicine every morning, and-" Context is needed- "... When I was at the orphanage. But she was maybe... in her eighties? I guess I never really asked, now that I think of it..."
And that would still be not even 1/4 of Riesenlied's age.
"So we're like those salmon..." Gwen groans, slumping back. "Or, no, worse, we're like mayflies..."
The change in topic was probably greatly needed- for all Gwen seems unable to cope with this knowledge, she's still quick to unglove her right arm, allowing Riesenlied full access.
And there is-
Flight.
Free of the bounds of earth, twisting through the skies, towards a boundless horizon. A Metal Dragon flies through the air, its fearsome cry ringing against the green landscape. Ethereal clouds and blue sky mark the surrounding air, lightning flickering in the tops of a rapidly forming head of a thunderstorm.
It happened so fast.
It is falling. Breaking. Its head angled towards the shrinking sky, it craned its neck for the last time to see the setting sun-
and _yearned_.
<Pose Tracker> Riesenlied has posed.
Riesenlied turns just a bit pink in embarrassment, wincing just a little bit. "... old age does not make one inherently superior. If anything, the lack of a passage of generations is what brought all this about, Miss Gwen. For those who live a thousand years and more, the slights of a milennia ago are like yesterday."
She looks towards the skies again, and gasps as she's drawn into Gwen's ARM just for a moment--
She trembles.
There's a sad, almost mewling little noise. "... oh..."
There's genuine sorrow and grief. A tear trembles its way down her cheek.
"... I'm-- I'm sorry."
It doesn't sound like she's just speaking to just Gwen.
"To have the skies be taken from you so quickly..."
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
It could have been on the warpath, killing many humans just like Gwen. It was a Metal Dragon, after all, a fierce entity. It could have been uninterested in the dealings of war, content instead to roam the clouds like a fish through a stream. It could have been many things.
It had become many things. Many pieces, one of which...
... is here. Intimately intertwined with the pulsing life within a Drifter who traveled the expanse of Ignas, content to sleep underneath the stars. A fragile life, the sputtering, feeble body of a nestling, strengthened by the remains of a mighty creature.
Her heart, held cushioned in the nest of its metal nerves. Her will was always her own.
She was never possessed by something else. The ARM was a part of her, and not the other way around. She simply looked to the sun, setting on the horizon
and yearned.
Gwen's breath seizes briefly, a sob caught in her throat. A spark of electricity, an echo of something long past, and long dead. "S-sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry! Was it something really terrible?"
The... skies.
No memory comes to Gwen's head, no alien sensation. But she's crying, because Riesenlied is crying, and something sparked in her chest, like something she knew, but didn't know at all. "It's okay, it's okay," she says through tears. "If it was something flying, then maybe it's okay that it's with me, y'know...? I can't fly, but-"
SHe just grasps onto Riesenlied in a tight embrace, happy and sad all at the same time, even if she doesn't know why.
And yet, she does.
<Pose Tracker> Riesenlied has posed.
"...I don't know," Riesenlied admits very honestly, earnestly. The memory is too vague for her. There is no context. There is just death. Death, coming so suddenly. How could she know? She can't hope to know. But-- "... mm-- ah--"
She blinks in surprise as Gwen throws her arms around her, and hugs her. "Thank you... Miss Gwen..."
There's a faint sniffle, as she recollects herself through it all. Silently, she whispers a, "... I think it is content ..." She pauses, as she returns the hug, much more faintly. She doesn't have the exuberance and energy that Gwen hugs her with, but she can feel that joy, that sorrow, and she doesn't know why either.
"... don't be ashamed."
She pauses. "More than ever, I can say for certain... don't be ashamed of having it. It is content to be at your side, Miss Gwen. Helping you. Sustaining you."
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
Death, a spiraling sky, the dying rays of slightly younger sun pressing its rays on the clouds receding into the distance above.
Too quick, and too chaotic. It was young, most likely, even if 'youth' in terms of a Metal Dragon could still be considered ancient when compared to a human's potential life span. It would explain the way soared through the air, focused only in the moment, and the sorrow as eeverything fell away.
"... I'm not ashamed of it." Gwen's still sobbing, her words catching on each hitch of her voice. "I've got so many other things to feel that way over, but... not this ARM. No. Not right now." She relaxes the hug, allowing Riesenlied room to breathe. "Scared of it, yeah, scared of the wrong people finding out, but... no. This ARM is me, as much as my real one was."
The redhead separates her arms from around Riesenlied as she laughs, all in one innocent motion. "I wouldn't be this way if it weren't for it. I'd be someone else. I'm gonna see the world because of it, and everyone in it. And if someone accepts this part of me... I know they're someone I need to know. And with this ARM, I've helped them, in ways I'd never had expected."
And Riesenlied...
"I guess... kinda like you. I guess your gift may throw you in some pretty scary spots, especially as it gets stronger, but maybe... it had to be someone like you for this gift to happen the way it did. This Id person-" She draws in a breath. "They'd overwhelm someone like me in a heartbeat. I can't handle things like that. And maybe, you're not built to either, but you know more than I do. And you know people who can help. So maybe... it's okay." Gwen looks at the cloaked woman, her eyes still brimming with tears. "Man, you're gonna keep makin' me bawl at this rate, and my face gets so blotchy when that happens. We need ta go and eat something. Somethin' real sugary, like funnel cakes or somethin' on the savory side, like corn bread! Or-"
She's already lost in the possibilities, laughing as one arm remains clasped on Riesenlied's shoulder.
Death, giving way to life.