[It's later on that evening after they've all retired to their rooms for the night that there will come a soft knock on Phil's door, loud enough to be audible but quiet enough to make it clear that whoever is knocking is trying to avoid attracting attention.
After the events of the afternoon, it's pretty safe to say that Marcus isn't sure he trusts anyone here at the moment.]
You awake?
[A rhetorical question, really, given that Phil barely sleeps at the best of times, and this... is most definitely not the best of times.]
[ It is not, and indeed, aside from taking off the outermost of his many layers of clothing, Phil hasn't even started going through the motions of pretending to get ready for bed at this point, so it's only a few seconds before the door opens. ]
The circumstances aren't exactly conducive to sleep.
[ There's a bit of an ironic smile with that — as if either of them thinks he wouldn't still be awake at this hour even if they were.
He steps back to allow Marcus in, and then closes the door behind them. The few hours they've had here so far aren't enough for him to have made a mess of the place yet, thankfully, though there's already a stack of books from the archives piled up on the vanity. ]
...The Raven here came directly from his own world, by the way. He's not the exoflection Ix and Mileena know.
[Marcus, for his part, has what looks to be the entirety of the bedding from his own bed tucked under his arms, pillows and all; when Phil opens the door, he's already moving in and looking around for a good spot on the floor to dump it. He'll get himself set up later-- he knows quite well that neither one of them is going to fall asleep anytime soon, not after everything they've experienced today.]
I figured as much. Exoflecting an exoflection would be a little much, don't you think? Although by now I suppose we've pretty much ruled the whole exoflection angle out...
[Thanks Hamelin. He may not know exactly what that guy is up to, but he hates him already, even moreso now that he's pretty sure he does in fact remember that 'wish' that Hamelin had been referring to. Oh, the irony.
At last he settles on a spot that's good enough for the time being and drops all of the blankets and pillows onto the floor, then turns to get a good look at Phil. The anger at the shakiness of Phil's hand when he'd grabbed his sleeve earlier still hasn't totally simmered down; though he won't say so out loud, he's concerned about Phil's mental state in light of what was revealed.
... yeah, that's really not doing much to help with said anger on his end either.]
[ It hadn't been much of a smile in the first place, but it fades further at that (with a slight wince at the "exoflecting an exoflection" part)... though the apparent fact that he's not going to be spending this night alone helps a little. ]
I'm not taking any of his words without a grain of salt, of course, but... I do think that's where most of the evidence seems to point.
[ Phil sits down on the edge of the bed, for lack of any more suitable seating, and exhales, shoulders slumping. Leave it to him to find a way to make even something like being taken to another world his own fault. ]
It's certainly awful timing, in that case. If we'd been exoflected here, I could have at least assumed that the original me would still be able to relay what I'd learned to everyone, but...
—Ah, I haven't even told you about that yet, have I?
[He watches that smile fade, his own mouth set in a thin line.]
... no, but I'm getting the idea already.
[And that makes... well, everything about ten times worse in multiple ways. Ugh. What a mess.]
Sorry about earlier, by the way. I wasn't planning on causing that much of a scene.
[He doesn't give a damn what people think of him, but the last thing he wants is for it to end up reflecting on Phil in any way given the nature of their current predicament. Right now, he doesn't want to give any of their fellow "prisoners" any reason to target Phil for anything, murder or otherwise.
Now it's his turn to exhale in an audible sigh as he makes his way over to the bed to sit beside Phil, plopping down rather unceremoniously.]
[ There's a brief questioning look at the request, but he complies and turns as directed, shaking his head in a slightly delayed response to that apology. ]
It's not the scene I mind. I just don't want you to put yourself in any more danger than you have to, especially if it could mean losing you permanently.
[ He looks down at his hands — he doesn't mind the excuse to avoid eye contact for the moment — and fiddles with the edge of his sleeve. ]
...Anyway, when you get that upset about something it's partly my fault, isn't it?
[Once Phil has shifted around, he's just going to lift his hands to start rubbing his shoulders, searching out those spots where he knows Phil tends to carry tension. This too is an apology in a way-- for acting out like that earlier, and maybe more importantly, for not being able to do more.]
Hey, give me a little credit here. You know I wouldn't leave you alone, especially not in a situation like this.
[But Phil's next remark suddenly makes him very glad the two of them aren't face-to-face, if only because it gives him a moment to weigh his options. Option one, lie to Phil to spare him the worry, which likely wouldn't last long knowing him, and then he'd be upset over the lying. Option two... tell the truth and potentially upset him further, but give him the entire picture up front.
Option two it is.]
... normally, yeah, I'd be blaming you for this one.
[ Ah... right. He probably did need this — a fact that's underscored by the small sound of discomfort that he doesn't quite manage to hold back when he feels that careful pressure on a particularly tight knot at the base of his neck.
It's just as he's managing to relax into it that he hears that answer, and then runs it through his head once more, and then tenses right back up again when the implication registers. ]
...Oh.
[ He guesses he should have figured that much; he's well aware that no other aspect of his mirristry powers is working in this world, so there's no reason this would be different. ]
W-well, that should be a nice break for you, right? To not have all my irrational feelings dragging you down.
Trust me, there's nothing irrational about however you're feeling right now.
[His tone carries a slight sharp edge to it-- it's clear Phil isn't the only one who is feeling tense about this. It feels like a part of him has been cut away, and for all that he doesn't like feeling Phil's sadness and guilt, the space that's left behind is raw and aching and empty without its constant presence.
When he hears that sound, he slows down a bit to focus on that spot, rubbing his thumb in firm yet gentle circles over that knot to try to loosen it up a little.]
And that's why I wouldn't be blaming you for how I acted even if I could still feel your emotions.
[No, that one was all him, and he's willing to own that much. That anger - that hatred - that Hamelin managed to inspire with his little revelation? That was 100% his own, because of Phil but not from Phil.]
[ What he's really feeling right now is that it's all his fault they're both here, and his fault if anything goes wrong in their own world because of their absences — which it almost certainly will to at least some extent, without Marcus there to manage the Salvation Front. (Phil may be its leader on paper, but he knows his own absence wouldn't be felt nearly so acutely.)
So maybe it really is for the best that he's not pushing that mess of emotions onto Marcus this time. And maybe this way, if anything happens to him here, it will only happen to him.
...
He lets out another sigh, soft but plain to feel in his shoulders. ]
...Dana, Nuadha, and Balor were originally all human mirrists. It was a war between mirrists and mirrites that led to the destruction of Nibelung, in which Balor sided with the mirrites and the rest fought against them. Dana's Cradle, Tir Na Nog, was created by Dana and Nuadha as a refuge for the survivors of Nibelung, much like the creation myth says.
The god Nuadha is Aifread, who created the spirits of our world. The Aifread whose grave is in the Devil's Vortex is a descendant of Nuadha's mirrite.
And I'm... a descendant of Dana. That's why I was able to hear that voice in the Glasswater Woods all those years ago.
She told me to protect Aifread, but by that point there was too much interference to ask for clarification.
[Marcus is silent for a moment, letting all of this roll around in his head where it tries to find a place to settle. It certainly explains a lot of things-- why Phil has mirristry abilities so strong that they required a protective mirrage to keep them from damaging his own body, for one.
Suddenly, the divide between him and Phil - between mirrist and mirrite - feels almost impossibly wide.]
... that's a lot to take in.
[It's an unusually subdued response coming from him, with none of his typical smart remarks or bravado. Objectively speaking, this changes everything. If the Empire were to find out that Phil is a direct descendant of the Goddess herself... it wouldn't just be Glastein who would be targeting him for his own perverted desires.
But on a personal level, as far as Marcus is concerned, this changes nothing. Phil is still Phil, his hopeless disaster of a master who can't even change a lightbulb without assistance.]
You gonna be okay?
[Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't be asking this question at all. He'd just make some blithe comment and leave Phil to decide how he wanted to deal with it, which 95% of the time would mean Phil would just bottle it up and find some (probably self-destructive) way to cope, if he didn't just instinctively internalize some level of guilt regardless of whether or not it was really his fault at all. But right now... he's genuinely concerned, and even though he knows well that the answer he'll get is likely to be a lie, he's going to leave that door open just in case.]
[ There's a nod, though he isn't exactly holding his chin up high, and his smooth hair slides further forward over his shoulders with the motion. ]
It doesn't change our ultimate objective — why I sought her out in the first place — and it's a good deal more information than we had before, even if it's not necessarily clear how we might be able to use it all.
[ It's a carefully measured response, but it's not insincere. He's spent so much time wallowing in self pity already that he doesn't have any right to not be okay now, when he's such a big part of the reason their world ended up in such a dire situation. If nothing else, this means that he really should be able to play an important role in saving it as well... if he can figure out how. Funny that the question he'd gone there to ask never quite got answered.
He starts to say something else, but hesitates, and then turns his head back slightly, still at such an angle that he can avoid eye contact. ]
Do you resent being created in the way that you were?
[ In a war between mirrists and mirrites, he can't really imagine that his own side wouldn't have been at greater fault in the beginning. Dana and Nuadha's mirrites had remained at their side, fighting against their own kind, and he doesn't doubt that Marcus would do the same for him if history were to repeat itself. But he doesn't like the idea that he might be forcing him to act against his own interests. ]
[That's a new question. By now he's used to the "Do you want to be free?" one (he's not sure why Phil still keeps asking that, as his answer hasn't changed a bit over the years), and he can fend it off pretty easily. This... this one trips him up for a moment before he huffs another sigh and shakes his head, even though he knows Phil won't be able to see that.]
Are you gonna follow that up by asking me if I want you to release me? 'Cause I think I've already made my answer to that one pretty clear.
[It is and will always be 'no' no matter what, even if it means he's going to die when Phil does. He knows that and is prepared for it, because honestly, the other option - living without Phil - is unthinkable to him.]
If we're having honesty hour here... sure, sometimes it can be pretty inconvenient not being able to go that far away from you, and I don't enjoy getting a front row seat every time you're feeling down on yourself.
[A pause, and he focuses his attention back on that knot in Phil's neck, kneading it gently.]
But that doesn't come anywhere close to 'resent.'
[He belongs at Phil's side. As far as he's concerned, it really is that simple.]
[ Some of the tension in him does seem to release with that, at least, with something somewhere between a sigh and a tired laugh. ]
Ha... Right. I'm sorry. I know you don't like questions like that.
I don't know the precise reasoning behind what happened in Nibelung back then...
[ Though there are plenty of things he can imagine that might have incited it; he could hardly pretend otherwise after everything with the dead mirrites. Maybe one of them was just finally the straw that broke the camel's back. ]
I just don't ever want you to feel like I'm forcing you into anything.
[ His awareness of what was going on while Phantom was in charge of things is hazy, but he can guess how that went. And he can't pretend he doesn't bear responsibility for that. ]
Or like I'm holding you back from something better.
[ Phil leaves the trial space as soon as he's able to, and walks briskly back to his room. If anyone says anything to him on the way he doesn't notice, his head down and vision watery. Somehow even though he's looking at the floor he still manages to stumble on one of the stair steps and has to catch himself on the railing, because of course he would; that's what he's good for, doing everything wrong.
He fumbles with the key to his door for a few seconds as he tries to catch his breath, coughing into his other hand. Once he gets inside, he closes the door most of the way — it's cracked just slightly so that Marcus can get in — takes off his stupid outer layers again, and gets up on the bed, where he sits with his back against the headboard and knees pulled up to his chest. ]
[Marcus isn't doing much better, though his expression leans towards the 'barely-contained anger' end of the spectrum, his teeth clenched hard enough to almost hurt as he follows Phil out like a protective shadow. He's so out of it that he barely notices Phil stumble; he reaches out instinctively, but Phil has already caught himself on the railing by that point, and Marcus just curses himself inwardly for not paying attention.
Once inside, he closes and locks the door, then double-checks the lock again for good measure... and then slams his fist into the wall next to the door in a vicious punch.]
Damn it...!!
[There he stays for the moment, leaning heavily against the wall, his shoulders shaking and his breath coming in rough, uneven pants.
[ He flinches at the sound and vibration from the fist hitting the wall but doesn't say anything; he just buries his face in his arms and tries to keep his crying quiet, even if it's nothing Marcus hasn't seen plenty of times before.
It starts to subside after a while, though it's still another moment before he feels like he can speak without his voice cracking. ]
...I accused her of killing someone she'd cared about. [ He raises his head just enough that his words aren't too muffled. ] And I could have gotten her killed.
[ Ironically, this was the one time his wishy-washy way of dealing with difficult subjects — by not dealing with them — had actually worked to anyone's benefit. ]
At least most of them knew better than to listen to an idiot like me.
[At last he straightens up and turns to look at him. Seeing Phil crying is nothing new, no, and neither is Phil blaming himself for things that aren't really his fault. This time, though... he's not blaming himself for no reason, so Marcus can't just blow it off with a joke or a sarcastic remark the way he normally would.
What Phil's saying technically isn't wrong, and he knows they both know that.]
Did you forget I almost put suspicion on you too? You aren't the only one who screwed up today.
[He exhales roughly.]
You were looking at the evidence we had. Given what we knew, it wasn't an unreasonable conclusion to come to.
[But wow does he hate saying that, because he doesn't want to think that someone like Yor could be capable of killing someone in cold blood...]
[ Demonstrable ones at that. Though if they hadn't... well, he would have thought he deserved it anyway. ]
I still don't think it was unreasonable based on the evidence alone. But it's...
[ He trails off briefly, thinking, and sniffs before picking the explanation back up. ]
I think... I just assumed she could do it because I could. That if someone weak like me could attempt to kill a friend, then anyone could do it.
[ It's probably why he found himself leaning toward certain scenarios, too — like the idea that Samidare could have been unconscious at first and woken up in the middle of her own murder. ]
But that's just me selfishly ascribing my own abhorrent personality to everyone else.
[... ah. Is that what's behind all of this? Normally he would've been able to pick up on that much via their connection, but without that...
... well. The fact that he's feeling as upset about the situation as he is even without the help of Phil's emotions leaking over is a testament to just how bad the whole thing really was.]
... do you really think this Hamelin guy would've brought all of us here if we weren't capable of killing?
[He hates it. He hates the thought that anyone he's spoken to so far - Yor, Nageki, even Suga - might be able and willing to commit murder under the right circumstances. As much as he wants to tell himself otherwise, he can't deny that it's the truth.]
'Cause I'll tell you right now, that would make for a pretty damn boring show on his end. He wants to see us kill, and then he wants to see us tear each other - and ourselves - apart over it. Which is exactly what you're doing right now.
[Harsh, perhaps, but he knows he's tearing himself up over it internally too.]
[ There's a whole mess of things behind this, just like always. ]
Well... probably not.
[ Though no, that's really not a particularly comforting thought. And that last part... his kneejerk inner response is then what am I supposed to do? But... well, no. He knows.
He straightens up a bit after a moment and shifts his position to something a little less closed off. One hand adjusts his now fogged-up and tear-spotted monocle, and the other he makes into a fist that grasps at the decorated hem of his tunic and presses against his thigh. ]
...I'm not going to stop working to understand the situation, or to find a way out of it for everyone. I just... need to beat myself up over this for a while, since I'm too much of a coward to let anyone else do it.
[The sigh he breathes as he walks over is audible, possibly on purpose, or possibly just an expression of his own frustration with things. Automatically he reaches out for that monocle to take it off - it's already enough of a mess, and it's certainly not serving any useful purpose at the moment - and set it aside on the nightstand.]
Yeah, I expected that much. And you're gonna work yourself into exhaustion because you think that's the only way you'll be able to make up for what you've done.
[He knows exactly how Phil's train of thought works by now, and he likes it even less hearing this sort of thing out of him here than he does at home. If Phil were to exhaust himself, maybe make himself even sicker, that would make him a prime target for anyone looking for an easy kill.]
Were you coughing just now?
[There's a slight accusatory edge to his voice. Yes, he heard that, and no, he doesn't like it.]
[ There's a small sound of surprise when his monocle gets taken away, though it's true that it wasn't doing him any good in that condition. And, well... yes, that's probably exactly what he was going to do. But what good would he be to anyone if he didn't? It's better than just feeling sorry for himself and doing nothing, isn't it?
The question that follows that, on the other hand, catches him slightly off guard, and his guilty expression in the instant before he catches himself is probably enough of an answer on its own. ]
N-not just now, no.
[ Which is technically true, but he knows a bullshit answer like that isn't going to go over well. ]
...If you mean while I was getting the door open, I was just out of breath from walking a long distance so quickly. It's nothing to worry about.
[It comes out sounding more angry than he'd intended, frustration seeping in around the edges. He hates this feeling of utter helplessness that's just been compounding on itself all week; being able to get his hands on a weapon had helped with that a bit, only to end with him feeling even worse when that weapon had done absolutely nothing to help protect someone who had needed it.
She'd only been about Kanonno's age...]
At this rate no one is even going to need to kill you, since you're doing such a great job on that front on your own!
[... ah. He realizes that might have been too much the moment it leaves his mouth, but damn it, he can't stand watching Phil careening down the path to self-destruction like this, even when he isn't feeling it all secondhand.]
[ Phil shrinks back again at that, hugging his arms to his chest. There are plenty of harsh words that he knows he thoroughly deserves to have thrown at him, but this... ]
I-it wasn't that bad. And I've been taking my medicine and everything, so...
[ He's been plenty worse off than this before, and he's still here.
He frowns down at the covers, arbitrarily focusing on a single line of stitching. ]
I don't have any intention of letting Tir Na Nog down as long as I can help it... or everyone here. I'm not being that reckless.
[Seeing Phil curl in on himself like that is like a knife in the gut, and Marcus utters a quiet curse at himself under his breath. How can he tell him to stop making that face when he's the very reason Phil is making it in the first place?]
... look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that.
[Except for the part where he kind of did. He can't look Phil in the eye after that; turning away, he rests his arm against the wall and then leans his forehead against that while he focuses on taking a few deep breaths.
He hates this-- everything about this.]
I just...
[He doesn't know, honestly. He barely even feels like himself right now, stripped of his strength, his link to Phil, and everything he's come to take for granted.
[ The visible tension in him lessens a little after that apology, though now he just feels bad that Marcus felt like he needed to give it. As usual, there's no part of this that isn't really his own fault if you dig deep enough.
He shakes his head. ]
I know... I know you're just worried. And you wouldn't have to worry so much if I hadn't already given you so many reasons to do so. S-so I'm sorry as well.
[Now he does push away from the wall and stand back up, looking down at him.]
It's not all your fault, so don't go taking all of the blame for this, got it? Let me be mad at myself for once.
[With a sigh, he too sits down on the bed, likewise leaning back against the headboard and folding his hands behind his head.]
Of course I'm worried about you. Kinda goes without saying in something like this. But...
[Phil has him, at the very least. People like Suga and Nageki? Who do they have to look out for them? There's no way that anyone here who might be inclined to attempt murder would see them as anything other than easy targets, and he's painfully aware of this fact.]
[ Phil turns to look at him, expecting the end to that sentence to come... but, well, actually he can probably fill in that blank himself. ]
...Ah. But you have even less say in what happens to everyone else here, right?
[ It's not even just a matter of whether anyone will look out for them but of how much they want to be looked out for. That meeting had made it pretty clear that not everyone was interested in simply following the safest plan of action. (Though admittedly, he couldn't actually guarantee that he'd even follow it himself.) ]
... yeah. So I guess in the end we're upset about pretty much the same thing.
[Intentionally or not, their actions - or lack of actions - have ended up putting others in danger.
He knows, on some basic level, why he really exists-- why mirrites exist. They're living weapons, made to be summoned over and over again to fight as long as is needed. Were they back at home, protecting everyone wouldn't be an issue in the slightest; here, however, where he can't simply be summoned back again if anything were to happen to him...
Well, now he understands just how Phil can feel so useless at times. And boy, he doesn't like it one bit.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
week 1
Day One, evening
After the events of the afternoon, it's pretty safe to say that Marcus isn't sure he trusts anyone here at the moment.]
You awake?
[A rhetorical question, really, given that Phil barely sleeps at the best of times, and this... is most definitely not the best of times.]
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The circumstances aren't exactly conducive to sleep.
[ There's a bit of an ironic smile with that — as if either of them thinks he wouldn't still be awake at this hour even if they were.
He steps back to allow Marcus in, and then closes the door behind them. The few hours they've had here so far aren't enough for him to have made a mess of the place yet, thankfully, though there's already a stack of books from the archives piled up on the vanity. ]
...The Raven here came directly from his own world, by the way. He's not the exoflection Ix and Mileena know.
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I figured as much. Exoflecting an exoflection would be a little much, don't you think? Although by now I suppose we've pretty much ruled the whole exoflection angle out...
[Thanks Hamelin. He may not know exactly what that guy is up to, but he hates him already, even moreso now that he's pretty sure he does in fact remember that 'wish' that Hamelin had been referring to. Oh, the irony.
At last he settles on a spot that's good enough for the time being and drops all of the blankets and pillows onto the floor, then turns to get a good look at Phil. The anger at the shakiness of Phil's hand when he'd grabbed his sleeve earlier still hasn't totally simmered down; though he won't say so out loud, he's concerned about Phil's mental state in light of what was revealed.
... yeah, that's really not doing much to help with said anger on his end either.]
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I'm not taking any of his words without a grain of salt, of course, but... I do think that's where most of the evidence seems to point.
[ Phil sits down on the edge of the bed, for lack of any more suitable seating, and exhales, shoulders slumping. Leave it to him to find a way to make even something like being taken to another world his own fault. ]
It's certainly awful timing, in that case. If we'd been exoflected here, I could have at least assumed that the original me would still be able to relay what I'd learned to everyone, but...
—Ah, I haven't even told you about that yet, have I?
[ This day has sure been a blur. ]
no subject
... no, but I'm getting the idea already.
[And that makes... well, everything about ten times worse in multiple ways. Ugh. What a mess.]
Sorry about earlier, by the way. I wasn't planning on causing that much of a scene.
[He doesn't give a damn what people think of him, but the last thing he wants is for it to end up reflecting on Phil in any way given the nature of their current predicament. Right now, he doesn't want to give any of their fellow "prisoners" any reason to target Phil for anything, murder or otherwise.
Now it's his turn to exhale in an audible sigh as he makes his way over to the bed to sit beside Phil, plopping down rather unceremoniously.]
Here, turn that way a little.
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It's not the scene I mind. I just don't want you to put yourself in any more danger than you have to, especially if it could mean losing you permanently.
[ He looks down at his hands — he doesn't mind the excuse to avoid eye contact for the moment — and fiddles with the edge of his sleeve. ]
...Anyway, when you get that upset about something it's partly my fault, isn't it?
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Hey, give me a little credit here. You know I wouldn't leave you alone, especially not in a situation like this.
[But Phil's next remark suddenly makes him very glad the two of them aren't face-to-face, if only because it gives him a moment to weigh his options. Option one, lie to Phil to spare him the worry, which likely wouldn't last long knowing him, and then he'd be upset over the lying. Option two... tell the truth and potentially upset him further, but give him the entire picture up front.
Option two it is.]
... normally, yeah, I'd be blaming you for this one.
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It's just as he's managing to relax into it that he hears that answer, and then runs it through his head once more, and then tenses right back up again when the implication registers. ]
...Oh.
[ He guesses he should have figured that much; he's well aware that no other aspect of his mirristry powers is working in this world, so there's no reason this would be different. ]
W-well, that should be a nice break for you, right? To not have all my irrational feelings dragging you down.
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[His tone carries a slight sharp edge to it-- it's clear Phil isn't the only one who is feeling tense about this. It feels like a part of him has been cut away, and for all that he doesn't like feeling Phil's sadness and guilt, the space that's left behind is raw and aching and empty without its constant presence.
When he hears that sound, he slows down a bit to focus on that spot, rubbing his thumb in firm yet gentle circles over that knot to try to loosen it up a little.]
And that's why I wouldn't be blaming you for how I acted even if I could still feel your emotions.
[No, that one was all him, and he's willing to own that much. That anger - that hatred - that Hamelin managed to inspire with his little revelation? That was 100% his own, because of Phil but not from Phil.]
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[ What he's really feeling right now is that it's all his fault they're both here, and his fault if anything goes wrong in their own world because of their absences — which it almost certainly will to at least some extent, without Marcus there to manage the Salvation Front. (Phil may be its leader on paper, but he knows his own absence wouldn't be felt nearly so acutely.)
So maybe it really is for the best that he's not pushing that mess of emotions onto Marcus this time. And maybe this way, if anything happens to him here, it will only happen to him.
...
He lets out another sigh, soft but plain to feel in his shoulders. ]
...Dana, Nuadha, and Balor were originally all human mirrists. It was a war between mirrists and mirrites that led to the destruction of Nibelung, in which Balor sided with the mirrites and the rest fought against them. Dana's Cradle, Tir Na Nog, was created by Dana and Nuadha as a refuge for the survivors of Nibelung, much like the creation myth says.
The god Nuadha is Aifread, who created the spirits of our world. The Aifread whose grave is in the Devil's Vortex is a descendant of Nuadha's mirrite.
And I'm... a descendant of Dana. That's why I was able to hear that voice in the Glasswater Woods all those years ago.
She told me to protect Aifread, but by that point there was too much interference to ask for clarification.
no subject
Suddenly, the divide between him and Phil - between mirrist and mirrite - feels almost impossibly wide.]
... that's a lot to take in.
[It's an unusually subdued response coming from him, with none of his typical smart remarks or bravado. Objectively speaking, this changes everything. If the Empire were to find out that Phil is a direct descendant of the Goddess herself... it wouldn't just be Glastein who would be targeting him for his own perverted desires.
But on a personal level, as far as Marcus is concerned, this changes nothing. Phil is still Phil, his hopeless disaster of a master who can't even change a lightbulb without assistance.]
You gonna be okay?
[Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't be asking this question at all. He'd just make some blithe comment and leave Phil to decide how he wanted to deal with it, which 95% of the time would mean Phil would just bottle it up and find some (probably self-destructive) way to cope, if he didn't just instinctively internalize some level of guilt regardless of whether or not it was really his fault at all. But right now... he's genuinely concerned, and even though he knows well that the answer he'll get is likely to be a lie, he's going to leave that door open just in case.]
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It doesn't change our ultimate objective — why I sought her out in the first place — and it's a good deal more information than we had before, even if it's not necessarily clear how we might be able to use it all.
[ It's a carefully measured response, but it's not insincere. He's spent so much time wallowing in self pity already that he doesn't have any right to not be okay now, when he's such a big part of the reason their world ended up in such a dire situation. If nothing else, this means that he really should be able to play an important role in saving it as well... if he can figure out how. Funny that the question he'd gone there to ask never quite got answered.
He starts to say something else, but hesitates, and then turns his head back slightly, still at such an angle that he can avoid eye contact. ]
Do you resent being created in the way that you were?
[ In a war between mirrists and mirrites, he can't really imagine that his own side wouldn't have been at greater fault in the beginning. Dana and Nuadha's mirrites had remained at their side, fighting against their own kind, and he doesn't doubt that Marcus would do the same for him if history were to repeat itself. But he doesn't like the idea that he might be forcing him to act against his own interests. ]
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Are you gonna follow that up by asking me if I want you to release me? 'Cause I think I've already made my answer to that one pretty clear.
[It is and will always be 'no' no matter what, even if it means he's going to die when Phil does. He knows that and is prepared for it, because honestly, the other option - living without Phil - is unthinkable to him.]
If we're having honesty hour here... sure, sometimes it can be pretty inconvenient not being able to go that far away from you, and I don't enjoy getting a front row seat every time you're feeling down on yourself.
[A pause, and he focuses his attention back on that knot in Phil's neck, kneading it gently.]
But that doesn't come anywhere close to 'resent.'
[He belongs at Phil's side. As far as he's concerned, it really is that simple.]
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Ha... Right. I'm sorry. I know you don't like questions like that.
I don't know the precise reasoning behind what happened in Nibelung back then...
[ Though there are plenty of things he can imagine that might have incited it; he could hardly pretend otherwise after everything with the dead mirrites. Maybe one of them was just finally the straw that broke the camel's back. ]
I just don't ever want you to feel like I'm forcing you into anything.
[ His awareness of what was going on while Phantom was in charge of things is hazy, but he can guess how that went. And he can't pretend he doesn't bear responsibility for that. ]
Or like I'm holding you back from something better.
friday, post-trial
He fumbles with the key to his door for a few seconds as he tries to catch his breath, coughing into his other hand. Once he gets inside, he closes the door most of the way — it's cracked just slightly so that Marcus can get in — takes off his stupid outer layers again, and gets up on the bed, where he sits with his back against the headboard and knees pulled up to his chest. ]
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Once inside, he closes and locks the door, then double-checks the lock again for good measure... and then slams his fist into the wall next to the door in a vicious punch.]
Damn it...!!
[There he stays for the moment, leaning heavily against the wall, his shoulders shaking and his breath coming in rough, uneven pants.
What a mess.]
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It starts to subside after a while, though it's still another moment before he feels like he can speak without his voice cracking. ]
...I accused her of killing someone she'd cared about. [ He raises his head just enough that his words aren't too muffled. ] And I could have gotten her killed.
[ Ironically, this was the one time his wishy-washy way of dealing with difficult subjects — by not dealing with them — had actually worked to anyone's benefit. ]
At least most of them knew better than to listen to an idiot like me.
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[At last he straightens up and turns to look at him. Seeing Phil crying is nothing new, no, and neither is Phil blaming himself for things that aren't really his fault. This time, though... he's not blaming himself for no reason, so Marcus can't just blow it off with a joke or a sarcastic remark the way he normally would.
What Phil's saying technically isn't wrong, and he knows they both know that.]
Did you forget I almost put suspicion on you too? You aren't the only one who screwed up today.
[He exhales roughly.]
You were looking at the evidence we had. Given what we knew, it wasn't an unreasonable conclusion to come to.
[But wow does he hate saying that, because he doesn't want to think that someone like Yor could be capable of killing someone in cold blood...]
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At least we had facts we could counter with.
[ Demonstrable ones at that. Though if they hadn't... well, he would have thought he deserved it anyway. ]
I still don't think it was unreasonable based on the evidence alone. But it's...
[ He trails off briefly, thinking, and sniffs before picking the explanation back up. ]
I think... I just assumed she could do it because I could. That if someone weak like me could attempt to kill a friend, then anyone could do it.
[ It's probably why he found himself leaning toward certain scenarios, too — like the idea that Samidare could have been unconscious at first and woken up in the middle of her own murder. ]
But that's just me selfishly ascribing my own abhorrent personality to everyone else.
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... well. The fact that he's feeling as upset about the situation as he is even without the help of Phil's emotions leaking over is a testament to just how bad the whole thing really was.]
... do you really think this Hamelin guy would've brought all of us here if we weren't capable of killing?
[He hates it. He hates the thought that anyone he's spoken to so far - Yor, Nageki, even Suga - might be able and willing to commit murder under the right circumstances. As much as he wants to tell himself otherwise, he can't deny that it's the truth.]
'Cause I'll tell you right now, that would make for a pretty damn boring show on his end. He wants to see us kill, and then he wants to see us tear each other - and ourselves - apart over it. Which is exactly what you're doing right now.
[Harsh, perhaps, but he knows he's tearing himself up over it internally too.]
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Well... probably not.
[ Though no, that's really not a particularly comforting thought. And that last part... his kneejerk inner response is then what am I supposed to do? But... well, no. He knows.
He straightens up a bit after a moment and shifts his position to something a little less closed off. One hand adjusts his now fogged-up and tear-spotted monocle, and the other he makes into a fist that grasps at the decorated hem of his tunic and presses against his thigh. ]
...I'm not going to stop working to understand the situation, or to find a way out of it for everyone. I just... need to beat myself up over this for a while, since I'm too much of a coward to let anyone else do it.
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Yeah, I expected that much. And you're gonna work yourself into exhaustion because you think that's the only way you'll be able to make up for what you've done.
[He knows exactly how Phil's train of thought works by now, and he likes it even less hearing this sort of thing out of him here than he does at home. If Phil were to exhaust himself, maybe make himself even sicker, that would make him a prime target for anyone looking for an easy kill.]
Were you coughing just now?
[There's a slight accusatory edge to his voice. Yes, he heard that, and no, he doesn't like it.]
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The question that follows that, on the other hand, catches him slightly off guard, and his guilty expression in the instant before he catches himself is probably enough of an answer on its own. ]
N-not just now, no.
[ Which is technically true, but he knows a bullshit answer like that isn't going to go over well. ]
...If you mean while I was getting the door open, I was just out of breath from walking a long distance so quickly. It's nothing to worry about.
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[It comes out sounding more angry than he'd intended, frustration seeping in around the edges. He hates this feeling of utter helplessness that's just been compounding on itself all week; being able to get his hands on a weapon had helped with that a bit, only to end with him feeling even worse when that weapon had done absolutely nothing to help protect someone who had needed it.
She'd only been about Kanonno's age...]
At this rate no one is even going to need to kill you, since you're doing such a great job on that front on your own!
[... ah. He realizes that might have been too much the moment it leaves his mouth, but damn it, he can't stand watching Phil careening down the path to self-destruction like this, even when he isn't feeling it all secondhand.]
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I-it wasn't that bad. And I've been taking my medicine and everything, so...
[ He's been plenty worse off than this before, and he's still here.
He frowns down at the covers, arbitrarily focusing on a single line of stitching. ]
I don't have any intention of letting Tir Na Nog down as long as I can help it... or everyone here. I'm not being that reckless.
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... look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that.
[Except for the part where he kind of did. He can't look Phil in the eye after that; turning away, he rests his arm against the wall and then leans his forehead against that while he focuses on taking a few deep breaths.
He hates this-- everything about this.]
I just...
[He doesn't know, honestly. He barely even feels like himself right now, stripped of his strength, his link to Phil, and everything he's come to take for granted.
They both really are a mess.]
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He shakes his head. ]
I know... I know you're just worried. And you wouldn't have to worry so much if I hadn't already given you so many reasons to do so. S-so I'm sorry as well.
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[Now he does push away from the wall and stand back up, looking down at him.]
It's not all your fault, so don't go taking all of the blame for this, got it? Let me be mad at myself for once.
[With a sigh, he too sits down on the bed, likewise leaning back against the headboard and folding his hands behind his head.]
Of course I'm worried about you. Kinda goes without saying in something like this. But...
[Phil has him, at the very least. People like Suga and Nageki? Who do they have to look out for them? There's no way that anyone here who might be inclined to attempt murder would see them as anything other than easy targets, and he's painfully aware of this fact.]
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...Ah. But you have even less say in what happens to everyone else here, right?
[ It's not even just a matter of whether anyone will look out for them but of how much they want to be looked out for. That meeting had made it pretty clear that not everyone was interested in simply following the safest plan of action. (Though admittedly, he couldn't actually guarantee that he'd even follow it himself.) ]
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[Intentionally or not, their actions - or lack of actions - have ended up putting others in danger.
He knows, on some basic level, why he really exists-- why mirrites exist. They're living weapons, made to be summoned over and over again to fight as long as is needed. Were they back at home, protecting everyone wouldn't be an issue in the slightest; here, however, where he can't simply be summoned back again if anything were to happen to him...
Well, now he understands just how Phil can feel so useless at times. And boy, he doesn't like it one bit.]