"not here right now.
leave a message. will get back to you soon.
probably."
TEXT
CALL
VIDEO
NOTE: As of 12/2016, Rey has adopted the alias "Fiona Stransky" when working with the Guard. Something to keep in mind, as Rey maintains a low profile with her involvement in the group. Other than what is mentioned in the Guard records, there is no trace of a "Fiona" identified on the network.
[There is a hint of undeniable shame that colors him; it tugs at the corners of his mouth, his glowing eyes lodging themselves on the jars of tea.]
I keep to myself for a myriad of reasons, Miss Rey. Curses spread misfortune to those around the afflicted. Even if not, I have still damned those around me to watch me die. You, and Glacius, and Kate, and- and everyone I have come to care for. I have damned all of you to this!
[He hisses that last part through his teeth before pushing a sigh out of him, trying to settle his nerves.] I knew this was my end the moment my condition manifested years ago. I had hoped it would not be so soon, but I suppose all I have been through has exacerbated it in some way.
[Although his eyes are on the jars, Rey gives him a dubious look.]
For fuck's sake, you haven't "damned" anyone. Dying is shitty for the people around you, but being part of their lives isn't a goddamned curse in itself. You've done a lot of good during your time here. My guts would have spilled out more than once, if not for you.
[And she's going to keep reminding him of that every time he acts like his very existence brings misfortune to everyone he so much as breathes air at.
[His last comment catches her off guard, though.] What do you mean, all you've been through has exacerbated it? What've you been doing?
[She reminds him, his partner reminds him, his family would remind him were they still alive and present, but Carlisle cannot help how guilty he feels when they are gone, when Glacius will be so hurt by his absence. Even now, as grateful as he is to have been of use, he wonders who Rey will get to heal her, who would be as indebted as he is.
They are friends of a sort though, he reminds himself. One more to lose.]
These schemes of the gods, what they put us through. I nearly died to my own double, and it left me in agony, drained of my own energies as I struggled to keep myself alive. The demonic possession they thrust upon us tore more from me. Each place we are taken to riles my nerves, agitating my aural channels. Even the weight of merely existing is killing me as I am slowly, and terribly, emptied of all that I am.
[Everyone will be gone, someday. When you've been around for as long as Rey, doing what she does, living through so many different lives, you start to see people as impermanent flickers in life. Things that can and will be gone in a blink, just like that. It's nothing new to her, but she isn't surprised by those who feel different. Who haven't had the misfortune of seeing so many faces come and go over the course of several decades like she has. So she tries not to dismiss Carlisle's grief the same way she would treat her own passing. It still sucks.]
Mn...
[Rey thinks twice about introducing the concept of those who die are returned by Hope in the same state they were when they arrived. Not only does Carlisle see them as "false gods", death is hardly what she would consider a solution to literally having your soul leak out of you.
[Wait.]
Does the healing aggravate it in any way as well?
[Was she making it worse every time she called on him whenever she was in a pinch?]
[Despite the grim conversation, the corner of his mouth turns up sheepishly.]
Only a little, unless there is a considerable amount of mending to do. I would be far more aggravated were I to leave someone in need wounded.
[Well, depending on who it is. His goddess would favor those who help others, as it means less for her to deal with; however, some people are painfully deserving of what befalls them.
He picks at the bandage on his arm -- there is clearly more on his mind that he has yet to say, but he isn't sure if he should say it at all. If something were to happen to him, would Ravine handle it? Or would she only do so much, and leave his partner to deal with what remains of him -- of all twice-cursed?]
[It's clear that there's more to it. He's definitely been holding onto this for a long time and Rey is not the only one he's had this conversation with. Must be exhausting, having to tell people you know that you're going to die horribly every time. Giving away a handy pamphlet would almost be easier.]
But... that is why you puke that black shit whenever you try to heal something, right? That's not supposed to be normal?
[Sorry, Carlisle. She's still calling it "black shit" instead of "bile".]
[She'll always call it that, and he'll always correct her. If he doesn't, that's when she should worry.]
It is a sign of my curse, taint expelled from the point of affliction. Or so they say. [His brow knits.] There is much that goes unsaid with those cursed as I am, more than I ever imagined until recently.
[By now she expects the correction. It's a harmless song and dance between them.]
Guess that makes sense...
[What else is there for her to say? Rey isn't her father. She doesn't have the ability to heal and alter with blood the same way he does, or that she's aware of. Even if Lucas were here, would there even be anything he could do against some magical curse?
[She gives a thoughtful pause, before she realizes something:] What sort of unsaid things, exactly? What's supposed to happen?
[Since this isn't just some normal disease, Rey can't imagine that Carlisle will just keel over when his time is up.]
[He hesitates, his nails curling against the fibers of the bandage.]
The nature of the twice-cursed -- there is much that is known, and... an amount that isn't. It was only here I discovered that the wound is an aural tear, something I am not entirely should I could have ever known back home. The bodies are usually burned, reduced to nothing more than ash, but—
[Another pause as he attempts to figure out how to explain himself.]
They are powerful undead, the sort that have a vague sense of who they used to be, but can no longer remember themselves. They are embroiled in bitterness so great that they lash out upon the living, using the abilities they had in life as a weapon of their own torment.
[He collects one of his journals from the chest, flipping through the pages until he comes across a drawing of an emaciated figure, its fingers and limbs writhing, face contorted in a perpetual howl. Its eyes glow vibrantly with an unnatural light against its ruined frame, barely illuminating its twisted visage.]
Depending upon the body from which it is created, they can be tremendous warriors... or even magicians of utter desecration. Surely only a the most powerful of necromancers could raise such a being. That is what I've always been told. That's what everyone is told.
What does this have to do with you? Don't think we have any sort of "necromancers" here, if you're worried about being brought back by one. [The way she says the word, it just sounds unnatural coming from her voice. Ugh.]
[He gives her the flat look of NECROMANCERS ARE VERY REAL THREATS, REY. It's a very particular look.]
The truth of the matter is that they aren't created by necromancers. It- it makes perfect sense now- now that I know. Why would a fiendish wizard need to drag the remnants of an individual's soul back into their body when there are already mortal frames who have nothing left but the lingering traces of their very being? The Domu does not come to claim them, and so they languish. And then they fester. And then they rise on their own.
[Necromancers, shmecromancers. Unless they become a problem here, Rey doesn't have much reason to fret over them being in her world. People make use of the dead there without the need for magic. Thus, she just shrugs, her dismissive gesture very particular and "Rey-like" as well.]
Perfect sense. Right. [If we're going by magical logic, it probably does. Rey would think of it more along the lines of cellular reanimation, which is a real threat where she's from. Souls are too abstract for her to want to think about much, given the personal implications she's having to process lately.]
So when the body dies, what remains of the "soul" is stuck to it, is what you're saying. Wouldn't cremation solve that?
[And Rey is very effective at the cremating part, no furnace cost required.]
Yes. That's why Revenants are so rare. They are an anomaly, one we don't see often because we burn the bodies of the twice-cursed.
[Which he is. His eyes flick to her as he wonders if she'll take that implication seriously. He knows what's coming for him, and given what he can do -- what he could do if he became a vengeful, malicious, magic-using undead -- it's not pretty.]
[Eloquence might not be her forte, but he admires her for her pragmatism.]
Please.
[He wrings his hands together.]
An undead who can compel others, with no worries of the effects on their frame, no quandaries or compassion to bind them... I cannot let that happen.
[The way his double compelled Shadow to protect him might have been a glimpse into the future. How many in Hadriel are immune to his abilities? And how many are vulnerable? How many friends would be forced to fight one another as his Revenant shielded himself with their bodies and powers?
Wh-- Seriously? You want that? There's really no other option?
[You'd think he would try harder to fight for his soul, or at least Rey would assume so. She also can't say that she blames him for wanting to have a backup plan, in case the worst does happen.
[As this thought quickly runs through her mind, she sighs and shakes her head.] Will do it. Only if it has to be done. Not like you can use your mind tricks me, anyway.
[Hopefully that applies to Carlisle's case whether he's dead or alive.]
[He sighs, somewhat... relieved, as painful as it is to admit.]
Thank you, Miss Rey. I—
[He laughs, the sad laughter of a man who has utterly accepted his fate for the time being.]
I wanted to leave behind a legacy worthy of my name. I understand now that that is impossible, here or in Bear Den. I know nothing short of necromancy that could help me with this, and even then... I cannot say it would be a worthy endeavor, nor one that would do anything but delay the inevitable.
[His voice drops; it is hardly a whisper.]
What did I do to deserve this? What did my family do? If I had died so long ago, when I was cursed with this wound, their legacy would be intact well beyond my death. Instead...
[He trails off. He shouldn't talk like that; he's well aware of those who would never allow it. Rey herself is usually one of those. However, he can't help but wonder how much better he might be if he'd picked a different pursuit in his life -- if he'd wanted something other than to continue his family's legacy with pride. Perhaps if he had, the disappointment he finds with himself would be far less oppressive.]
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no subject
I keep to myself for a myriad of reasons, Miss Rey. Curses spread misfortune to those around the afflicted. Even if not, I have still damned those around me to watch me die. You, and Glacius, and Kate, and- and everyone I have come to care for. I have damned all of you to this!
[He hisses that last part through his teeth before pushing a sigh out of him, trying to settle his nerves.] I knew this was my end the moment my condition manifested years ago. I had hoped it would not be so soon, but I suppose all I have been through has exacerbated it in some way.
no subject
For fuck's sake, you haven't "damned" anyone. Dying is shitty for the people around you, but being part of their lives isn't a goddamned curse in itself. You've done a lot of good during your time here. My guts would have spilled out more than once, if not for you.
[And she's going to keep reminding him of that every time he acts like his very existence brings misfortune to everyone he so much as breathes air at.
[His last comment catches her off guard, though.] What do you mean, all you've been through has exacerbated it? What've you been doing?
no subject
They are friends of a sort though, he reminds himself. One more to lose.]
These schemes of the gods, what they put us through. I nearly died to my own double, and it left me in agony, drained of my own energies as I struggled to keep myself alive. The demonic possession they thrust upon us tore more from me. Each place we are taken to riles my nerves, agitating my aural channels. Even the weight of merely existing is killing me as I am slowly, and terribly, emptied of all that I am.
no subject
Mn...
[Rey thinks twice about introducing the concept of those who die are returned by Hope in the same state they were when they arrived. Not only does Carlisle see them as "false gods", death is hardly what she would consider a solution to literally having your soul leak out of you.
[Wait.]
Does the healing aggravate it in any way as well?
[Was she making it worse every time she called on him whenever she was in a pinch?]
no subject
Only a little, unless there is a considerable amount of mending to do. I would be far more aggravated were I to leave someone in need wounded.
[Well, depending on who it is. His goddess would favor those who help others, as it means less for her to deal with; however, some people are painfully deserving of what befalls them.
He picks at the bandage on his arm -- there is clearly more on his mind that he has yet to say, but he isn't sure if he should say it at all. If something were to happen to him, would Ravine handle it? Or would she only do so much, and leave his partner to deal with what remains of him -- of all twice-cursed?]
no subject
But... that is why you puke that black shit whenever you try to heal something, right? That's not supposed to be normal?
[Sorry, Carlisle. She's still calling it "black shit" instead of "bile".]
no subject
[She'll always call it that, and he'll always correct her. If he doesn't, that's when she should worry.]
It is a sign of my curse, taint expelled from the point of affliction. Or so they say. [His brow knits.] There is much that goes unsaid with those cursed as I am, more than I ever imagined until recently.
no subject
Guess that makes sense...
[What else is there for her to say? Rey isn't her father. She doesn't have the ability to heal and alter with blood the same way he does, or that she's aware of. Even if Lucas were here, would there even be anything he could do against some magical curse?
[She gives a thoughtful pause, before she realizes something:] What sort of unsaid things, exactly? What's supposed to happen?
[Since this isn't just some normal disease, Rey can't imagine that Carlisle will just keel over when his time is up.]
no subject
The nature of the twice-cursed -- there is much that is known, and... an amount that isn't. It was only here I discovered that the wound is an aural tear, something I am not entirely should I could have ever known back home. The bodies are usually burned, reduced to nothing more than ash, but—
[Another pause as he attempts to figure out how to explain himself.]
Have you Revenants where you come from, Miss Rey?
no subject
Revenants? What, you mean like zombies? [She squints.] Well, no, we don't have them. Heard of them, though. In stories and such.
[Some of the things her father created could be considered something close to that, but it's more of a mutation than anything to do with magic.]
no subject
[He collects one of his journals from the chest, flipping through the pages until he comes across a drawing of an emaciated figure, its fingers and limbs writhing, face contorted in a perpetual howl. Its eyes glow vibrantly with an unnatural light against its ruined frame, barely illuminating its twisted visage.]
Depending upon the body from which it is created, they can be tremendous warriors... or even magicians of utter desecration. Surely only a the most powerful of necromancers could raise such a being. That is what I've always been told. That's what everyone is told.
no subject
What does this have to do with you? Don't think we have any sort of "necromancers" here, if you're worried about being brought back by one. [The way she says the word, it just sounds unnatural coming from her voice. Ugh.]
no subject
The truth of the matter is that they aren't created by necromancers. It- it makes perfect sense now- now that I know. Why would a fiendish wizard need to drag the remnants of an individual's soul back into their body when there are already mortal frames who have nothing left but the lingering traces of their very being? The Domu does not come to claim them, and so they languish. And then they fester. And then they rise on their own.
no subject
Perfect sense. Right. [If we're going by magical logic, it probably does. Rey would think of it more along the lines of cellular reanimation, which is a real threat where she's from. Souls are too abstract for her to want to think about much, given the personal implications she's having to process lately.]
So when the body dies, what remains of the "soul" is stuck to it, is what you're saying. Wouldn't cremation solve that?
[And Rey is very effective at the cremating part, no furnace cost required.]
no subject
[Which he is. His eyes flick to her as he wonders if she'll take that implication seriously. He knows what's coming for him, and given what he can do -- what he could do if he became a vengeful, malicious, magic-using undead -- it's not pretty.]
no subject
So, what? You want me to smoke your body if you kick it so you don't become one of those things?
[What an eloquent way of putting it, Rey.]
no subject
Please.
[He wrings his hands together.]
An undead who can compel others, with no worries of the effects on their frame, no quandaries or compassion to bind them... I cannot let that happen.
[The way his double compelled Shadow to protect him might have been a glimpse into the future. How many in Hadriel are immune to his abilities? And how many are vulnerable? How many friends would be forced to fight one another as his Revenant shielded himself with their bodies and powers?
And worst of all, would Glacius be one of them?]
no subject
[You'd think he would try harder to fight for his soul, or at least Rey would assume so. She also can't say that she blames him for wanting to have a backup plan, in case the worst does happen.
[As this thought quickly runs through her mind, she sighs and shakes her head.] Will do it. Only if it has to be done. Not like you can use your mind tricks me, anyway.
[Hopefully that applies to Carlisle's case whether he's dead or alive.]
no subject
Thank you, Miss Rey. I—
[He laughs, the sad laughter of a man who has utterly accepted his fate for the time being.]
I wanted to leave behind a legacy worthy of my name. I understand now that that is impossible, here or in Bear Den. I know nothing short of necromancy that could help me with this, and even then... I cannot say it would be a worthy endeavor, nor one that would do anything but delay the inevitable.
[His voice drops; it is hardly a whisper.]
What did I do to deserve this? What did my family do? If I had died so long ago, when I was cursed with this wound, their legacy would be intact well beyond my death. Instead...
[He trails off. He shouldn't talk like that; he's well aware of those who would never allow it. Rey herself is usually one of those. However, he can't help but wonder how much better he might be if he'd picked a different pursuit in his life -- if he'd wanted something other than to continue his family's legacy with pride. Perhaps if he had, the disappointment he finds with himself would be far less oppressive.]