thenearshore | [Closed] There's one thing I want to say, so I'll be brave

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[Closed] There's one thing I want to say, so I'll be brave

Who: Ginia and Caster, later Archer | Ginia and Alex | Ginia and Ebisu | Ginia and Iskandar
When: January 17th, January 19th
Where: Caster's temple | Alex's temple | Ebisu's temple
What: A god and shinki part ways. | A god and shinki talk | A god welcomes a shinki to his temple | A shinki apologizes to a god
Warnings: See subject lines.

Caster, can you meet me outside? I need to talk to you.

Ginia stares at the sky, the grey of winter and the grey haze of smoke and ash indistinguishable from each other. The smell of smoke hangs in the air, a constant presence the last three days. As Ginia breaths in and exhales, breath swirling around in the cold air, the grip on her phone tightens. Her knuckles ache from the force, the metal of her phone case cold on her fingertips.

Lucky whines at her feet, sniffing at the bags next to her, barking as she circles and sniffs, runs off the front porch of the temple to the grass and returns with a stick. Ginia gamely throws the stick for her puppy - no, the temple's puppy - and watches her dash off.

Three months of living reduced down into a backpack and large duffel bag. It's more than she arrived with, and there are things she left behind. Replaceable things, frivolous things, things that were never hers personally and belonged more to the temple as a whole. The bedroom, the bathroom, she couldn't remove every trace of herself, but she did her best to strip everything down and clean. Nothing left but a few boxes and neatly labeled piles to hold or discard.

Discard. Hah. She's good at that, taking people's good-will and throwing them away, breaking promises. Ginia huffs and looks down at her feet, the events of the last three days rolling through her mind like a train racing through every station on a collision course with reality.

But absent is guilt and the searing blight with it. How could she ever feel guilt for wanting to help, to protect, to aid others? No. That is not the cost. Her chest aches as a burst of sadness grips it, mirrored now on not one god but three. Ginia sighs and tempers her emotions down, seizing calm and control in its place.

She will not cry. She will not cry.

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The message beeps, and Caster almost wants to ignore it. He's not really sleeping, the hallucinations brought memories whilst being awake, he doesn't need to risk seeing them again if he tries to sleep. But he's not really awake either. A strange rift to fall into.

He sits up and reaches to the phone seeing a message. Ginia. Outside. At this hour? It must be important.

Everyone was running, going somewhere, errands here, gotta help there. They all threw themselves into the struggles of helping with the crisis. They've all done some really stupid things and some really impressive things. Mostly alone each, though. There was too much chaos to organize something for all of them- besides spreading out allowed them to find more opportunities to help. That's what he thinks.

But perhaps, doing that was a mistake. Some of the gods organized their efforts rather tightly.

So naturally, he thinks that this meeting outside must mean something needs to be done about the volcano again. He warps outside, without bothering to throw the cloak on. The winter chill might wake him up.

It's colder outside then he expected

"...are we going somewhere?" He asks as he moves closer towards to her, noticing the backpack.

Lucky's insistence they play and run around draws Ginia off the steps of the temple and into a game of fetch when Caster appears. The question throws off her script and Ginia blinks at him before shaking her head. No, there's no we, just her. Just her going.

Ginia's breath catches as she looks at him, taking a step away to put more distance between them, because now, more than ever, she can't have him close. She can't want to hold him, to tease about warming him up, to toy with his hair, to feel his hands and arms around her body, the warmth of his mouth, she can't want him because there's no right to that.

Numbly, she raises her phone and inclines her head, focusing as she types away a message, her phone's voice cutting the silence of the cold morning. Funny, it was cold that morning too. Lucky drops the stick at her feet, whining and stomping on Ginia's boots for attention.

"I was going to write you a letter, try to explain everything, so it'd be easier. But when I sat down to write, I couldn't find the words. Nothing I wrote made sense."

Page after page, discarded and crumpled, ultimately curling in the fireplace with so many other pages as the fire reduced it to ash. Her mouth is dry as she types and plays in small spurts, disconnected thoughts woven together in a narrative that has to make sense.

"I want you to know this isn't a slight against you. You are an incredible god and I have been blessed to be in your service. I care deeply, I love you, and that's why I'm asking you this."

Ginia's chest tightens again. She swallows hard, shoulders, hands shaking as she forces out the words that will end everything. She's run them over her mind again and again, seeking the best way to phrase the request, and it hurts, it hurts so much, but it'll only hurt more if she puts it off. Ginia's thumb presses the play button. The message plays, eyes averted.

"I have broken your oath. I have wronged and dishonored you and I regret hurting you, but I cannot take back my actions either. There is only one course of action. Cú Chulainn, will you release me?"

Do not cry, do not cry, do not cry...

The temple could suddenly explode and forest could have catch fire and Caster would not notice. Seconds ago he was still barely truly awake, and now what even is tiredness??

"Ginia, wha-?" For a second he stutters, the shock showing. It's really a lot to take in in one go. It hurts to hear those words. To hear words of love and care and then followed by this.. decision.

What caused it? What happened? What feelings and concerns he never heard about? It hurts that she never made him part of the road to reach that conclusion. Would it go into a different place if they could hear each other out, and talk?

That ultimately doesn't matter. Words like this can't be unsaid.

"My words bind me, a gift and as a curse." Caster whispers, last traces of the pained expression disappearing from his face as he steels himself. This isn't a conversation before Caster and Ginia, but between a god and his shinki. Invoking every ounce of divinity he can muster, he straightens his back, summoning his staff. A spear would be better for such ceremonial moments, but alas, he will live with the druiden oak.

"I made a promise, I won't hold any shinki against their will. You're all free to leave any time you want, no question asked." Maybe not exactly a geis, but still as important. "Ginia, you served me well, you made me proud. It was a joy having you grace my temple with your presence. May the sun always shine on the road you walk."

Wherever you are father, that's your job, the sun part.

"I release you from my service-"

That's all that there is, a simplest of spells but he can immediately feels it's effect. The name disappearing, link severed, a muted presence somewhere at the edge of his mind - gone, silent.

He could use his hood right now, but alas. Not so easy. Just as she tried not to look at him, he tries not to look at her. What if he had done something stupid. What if he would run to her and tell her to not go? Too late for that, it was never possible, with the way this request was timed and worded. But being bind by the words means, they are the most powerful at their literal interpretation.

Caster never promised to not ask questions after releasing a shinki. Though is there a point now? Does he really want to know why? He leans his back against the trunk of a massive tree, finding a cigarette pack in the pocket- one of the rare good things about that druid skirt really, how many stuff you can carry. He takes one, lights it quickly and inhales the smoke deep into his lungs.

Well, shit, gods, Servant, who cares, everyone falls to the blessed nicotine.

"You said you wanted to talk, but what it really was, was a statement." His breath combined with the smoke painting itself clearly in the cold air, his voice muted, subdued. Resigned. Done with doing the godly duty, it's back to personal feelings.

"I love you" words like these are wasted on a wraith, a shadow of memory. But it's been half of the year, and this place slowly was becoming his home. He cares about those people, this pack- love is definitely not out of the picture as it would be anywhere else.

Releasing is as easy as naming, simpler ever. With her eyes averted, Ginia doesn't see the pain in his expression - I'm such a coward! - but she can hear the hurt. Her heart twists and she bites down on her lip, wants to close the distance between them and beg for his forgiveness and understanding, but what would it do? What would it matter when she asked and asked and asked until someone gave her a name?

She made her choice, she can live with it. Ginia forces herself to look at Caster, steeling herself. His praise hurts, but no more than declaring her love and then her departure must have. He didn't have to praise her, but he did, and she can carry that with her.

The name lifts off, a glow in front as it disappears. Ginia's hand flies up to her right shoulder, clutches where her name used to be. Harder she bites on her lip, the thin edge of pressure nearly giving away to pain, to blood. Lucky whines at Ginia's feet, pawing and leaning against her leg. It brings Ginia back; her teeth release her lip. It throbs, slightly swollen from pressure. Her breath shudders out, a cloud of air to match his smoke, mingling, disappearing.

A statement. So it was. Ginia looks away, knowing she didn't give him a choice, took it from him the moment she offered the option of a name to another god.

She could leave now. No questions asked.

Her phone raises, thumbs tapping at the keyboard. Sadness continues to roll in her, a heavy weight choking everything out, and it's not fair to Ebisu or Alex, but at least Caster can't feel it now. And that, in a strange way, makes it easier to talk.

"I'm sorry for taking the choice from you." A start, better than nothing. "I'm sorry I forced your hand."

But what other choice was there with what she did? Ginia unzips her jacket and lifts her shirt up past her stomach. He knows the expanse of skin well, of the muscles and small marks. Bold red strokes paint under her rib cage, straight lines and angled slashes. She lowers her shirt and resumes typing.

"I hallucinated ayakashi on the volcano. They were all fake, but I couldn't risk being wrong, I couldn't risk someone getting hurt. I offered myself to several gods in case they needed protection."

Her hands shake and she swipes at her eyes before tears can fall. Weak. Coward. Dammit, dammit. Ginia sucks in a breath to steady herself, not for the ragged scraps of her dignity, but for the sake of Alex and Ebisu.

"It's not because I think any less of you as a god. It's not because I think any more about them. But I can't stand to see the people I care about hurt."

And yet here they are.

"Two refused me, but two named me. Alex and Ebisu."

Edited 2018-09-14 22:12 (UTC)

Caster puts his forearm across his face- there is no really a sun-glare to protect oneself from it but, well he does it anyway. Wondering what questions to ask- if there are any. No, not about why- the why's are over, the decision is made. He wants to ask about what's next. But then she starts talking all on her own, unprompted. Now that the name no longer binds them together, now that he can't feel what she feels. Does it really makes it so much easier for her? He listens intently. Grimacing at the series of apologies-

His arm drops as she proceeds to show another name, and he can't help but wonder how many more are of them there. How many more she would like to take. And why for? She speaks of a genuine wish to protect people, but he sees it as naive and childish. You can't protect the whole world, you pick and choose your battles.

"But only one of them could wield you, how were you protecting the others then?" Caster says quietly Part of him understands her reasoning- wanting to protect, to defend. To fulfill a purpose to feel useful in the great scope of things. He knew of that wish when she came to him asking to Nora her, because Nona of flowers would not fight. Did she talk her decision through with her? Or did she one day just proclaimed that she's leaving, and now it's repeating it today? He promised to not question if any of his shinki wanted to leave him- but damn it, he did hope if anything bad happens, they would try to talk it out with him first.

He walks towards her, red eyes shining in a way they never did before.

"Woman, why are you telling me all of this now" To rub salt into a knife wound? He's not going to say thank you for an equivalent of emotional stabbing, and he reacts viscerally "To let me know you were so afraid to talk with your god about it?"

Or maybe she was afraid they will talk it out. Maybe, she just wanted to leave and do those things that enticed her so much, and this just provided an opportunity. He always knew how quick she was about the names - either being named or naming the soulless creatures herself. Words, pretty names, a means to an end instead of promise and bond. Something he couldn't and still can't understand. Why throw away those that care about you, why throw away place you belong to, to belong nowhere, to sacrifice yourself for nothing and no one in particular because of some twisted sense of "helping."

Really, he could understand a Nora that just wanted to fight. Nothing else, just pure killing machine, seeking battle where it sees an opportunity to. At least Nora like that is genuine and honest about their selfish desire and unwillingness to form meaningful bonds. You get exactly what you ask. But a Nora who speaks of love and willingly throws away the people that care and love her. That's a level of twisted logic he can't get.

Maybe he is too ancient for that.

"I've experienced first-hand what this mountain does to your head. Do you really think, I wouldn't understand if you spoke to me?" He's still raw after the experience, after feeling so alive, alive in one of the worst days of his life. Memories and feelings buried and put aside, dusted with age, subdued - now intense again. But it's not about him- well, wait, no. He is not her god anymore, he holds no duties about it, he is no longer responsible for her. This ache he feels, this fire of emotions - it is all on him. Wise guide the temporary druid, be damned.

He can't shake the feeling that she should have started with what she's explaining now, they could have found a resolution together. Now, what does he needs to know it for? He takes a deep breath, another intake of smoke, so much it irritates his throat. There's one thing he needs to do now, and it is - staying calm. Sadness, frustration, regret, all those negative feelings are very easy channeled into anger. Why be sad, when you can rage at what makes you sad. Why process the loss when you can be mad at those who took something from you. Tears speak of vulnerability, and there are very few people a warrior is allowed to show that to- but anger, anger is easy to understand.

Well, he could be summoned as a Berserker for a reason.

But he can't allow himself anger now. He can't go the easy way, and he has to suffer through the feeling of rejection and disappointment as best as he can. Because despite how hurt and betrayed he feels, he still worries and cares. The answers he wants to hear are to different questions, so he suddenly closes the gap between them and catches her wrist in a gentle, but strong grip. He won't let her run away until she hears him out right back. He starts with a quiet warning.

"The new gods, many don't give a shit about words and promises, you're safe with them." It's a brutal way to sum it up, but no matter how much he adapts to the modern word, in some ways he'll forever stay an outsider. It's a bit unfair to Alex, because he suspects that if Alex named her, it was to keep her safe, to alleviate her fear of the illusions. Wonder who had rejected her. But he's generalizing on purpose, the other name she mentioned he knows all too well. Not just a God of Fortune, one of the old gods himself. Ebisu. Shit, that could be dangerous.

"But the old ones- be careful around them. They made the rules, they have the power over this land."

For a second he thinks of letting her go. Of letting her go and going back to the temple, because everything has been said and done. And no amount of sad puppy whining at their feet can change that. But there is one question that nags at him from the start.

"So before you go at least give me this: what have I done to make you so afraid of telling me? What have your Exemplar done?" He's almost certain that she didn't run this through Archer- if she went to Archer with pain and uncertainty, he'd try to help her out. Heck, maybe they would have this conversation all three together. And even if really, really the only way it could have ended it was through parting ways, they would reach that conclusion together. Peacefully.

Caster's question cut in a way she hadn't considered. She has an answer - even if she isn't there physically, the emotional bond provides some peace of mind and a warning, that this is a longer term protection instead of a one-time thing - but they feel hollow and short-sighted in the moment. Maybe they always were.

He approaches and for a fleeting, uncharitable moment, fear blossoms as she wonders if he'll hurt her. If he wanted to, could she stop him? Would she stop him? Woman. Ginia flinches. Not a name, a nickname, just a single impersonal reminder of her humanity. Or perhaps she's just another woman without a name. There's a long string of them in his personal history. What is another to his list? She's no Emer, that's for sure.

(At least it's an upgrade from Iskandar's use of "girl.")

His words cut, she flinches again. It wasn't fear, but a decision made on the mountain, of talking with everyone else that pushed her to making a choice. But no, even talking was generous. She heard what she wanted in support of her own rash decision, disregarded or ignored everything else when it didn't suit her. Talk it out with your god, talk it out with your god, and yet she came in with an ultimatum.

Would talking have made a difference though? She didn't want to leave, but when the problem was her wants and beliefs in conflict with Caster's, how could she force her god to bend on something he'd already bent on before? A god's will was law and she broke it so easily, so what good was she as a shinki to him? A shinki was a tool, a guide, but they were right to follow their own wishes and needs too.

There lies the problem too; Shun's curt correction echoes in her head. Who she is as a person outweighs her role as a shinki. She wants to protect and care for people not as a shinki but as herself. It's a need, a compulsion, and sometimes it eats her up because if she can't be a good shinki, and she's failing as a good person, then what else is there to do but sacrifice herself again and again for the better people in her life?

Caster's grip on her wrist is heavy as iron and for once he might not release her if she pulls away. Ginia's eyes glance at his hands then back to his face, accepting his weighty trip, forcing herself to look at him. He's so calm and wouldn't it be easier if he was sad, if he was angry, if he was anything else? He's no longer her god, he owes he nothing now. But maybe calm is all she deserves too, when every other emotion is too real, too honest, too much for her to keep.

(The emotional bond of a shinki and god run one way. She only knows what Caster feels from what he shows. In her own act of concealing her feelings and tempering them down for him, how much did she overlook? How much did he hide from her so to not worry her?)

Ginia frowns at his words, at the implication she doesn't care about words and promises. She does dammit, it's why she broke things for his damn sake. He's a new god too, but no, he's an old one in some ways, here as himself. Displaced, perhaps, drifting between both circles, welcomed in both but also not fitting entirely. There's so much she's never asked him. So much she wondered about but never found the words or time to ask. Did she ever do enough for him? Did she care enough for him?

Does it matter now that she's broken things so completely? The mention of Archer opens up a new wound. There's a letter waiting for him in his bedroom. Maybe he's read it by now, maybe he hasn't. Would he try to stop things? Ginia glances at the door and realizes maybe it's what she wanted. For someone more sensible to put things to an end, to talk her down and help make everything right.

But Archer is her (now ex-) exemplar, her (probably now ex-) boyfriend, not her babysitter. If she truly wanted to stop things, if she truly wanted to stay, she would have said something, or said nothing, or did anything else instead of torching everything she loved first.

With her world already consumed in flames and ashes, maybe all she could do was immolate herself too.

She knows how dangerous it is being in the company of the old gods, of Ebisu, already executed once by the Heavens. Treading dangerous ground at agreeing to help look into the same thing that got him killed. On a different day, the framing could be kind, that she's joining his temple in order to save Caster and Archer and Lancer from any potential wrath her investigation could bring. It's a lie though.

"I had a feeling things would turn out this way ever since you visited!" Kimi's exuberance is painful now. Was it always so clear? Did going to Ebisu's temple for information that day ensure she already had one foot out Caster's door? She can't deny Ebisu's conviction moved her, she can't deny the glimpse of dedication and purpose was too tempting.

It wasn't as if Caster's temple didn't offer things though. A purpose, a cause to dedicate herself to, but more importantly, support and comfort, a home, a family, everything she wanted and needed and yet discarded so easily for what?

Ginia looks at her phone, mouth parting as she tries to find the words. In the wake of sadness, there's only numbness, a heavy weight dragging down her being. She smiles out of reflex, a ditch effort attempt to diffuse the situation, but her lips feel too taut, her teeth too sharp, it hurts and she dismisses it with a shake of her head.

"I thought this was what you wanted. I know how important promises and oaths are to you and if I'd broken them so far, leaving was the only way to respect you. I didn't want you to have to bend on things. Not for me, not again."

The words tap out and play in the air, a rehash of her previous words. They feel hollow. Ginia sucks in a frigid breath, throat and lungs aching. Every new second is another step closer to more tears, but she can't cry, not now. Another day she might have sobbed into his shoulder, allowed him a glimpse at her fragile vulnerability, but now there's no comfort, no support, tears would only look like another weaponized attempt at pity and she's hurt him enough.

"I don't know how to serve a king, Caster. It's not what I'm familiar with. But I see people I want happy and want to protect and so I'll do whatever I can. I value you, Caster, I value your beliefs, but if I refused a name out of respect for you and someone I cared about died because of that decision, that betrays everything I stand for."

Loyalty or personal happiness. No, maybe it was loyal or selfishness. It's easy to stare at her phone as she types, as she listens to her words read out for her. It's easy to retreat. Ginia types and forces her eyes up again, forces herself to look at Caster as her message plays, even if she feels like the slightest reaction will break her.

"But I understand your concerns. If you needed me and I couldn't help because I was helping elsewhere, if someone turned me against you, I would hurt too. I do not think you're wrong in any regard. That is why I didn't talk to Archer, that's why I made this choice. I'm sorry I put your position as a god first when I should have put your feelings as friend and lover first. I'm sorry I made a choice for you. Would you have let me? Did you want me to stay? Do you want me to stay? If I stripped every name off and asked you to name me again, would you? Or would we run into the same problem again?"

As last words are spoken from Ginia's phone there is zero chance given for Caster's reply. From seemingly nowhere a big snowball lands on his face. Ginia can admire the sight for like half of second because her face is next target. And then for unknown reason - it's a bow, it's always a bow - the tree they were standing beneath shakes and buries them under a lot of snow.

Enjoy the cold, fuckers. For here comes Archer, and he Is Angry. And frustrated. And hurt. But he's also incredibly done, and is not going to have anymore of this.

"WHAT DO YOU DRAMATIC ASSHOLES THINK THAT YOU'RE DOING?!"

Congrats, you have unlocked the rarest breed, Archer speaking very loudly. He's there in a moment, digging the snowdrift for bodies.

"Drop this shakespearean tragedy and act like functioning adults for once. Back to the temple, in warmth."

He's not resorting to words only; once both of them are out of the snow he throws Caster over his shoulder, Ginia under his arm and marches into the temple to unceremoniously throw both of them on the sofa near the fireplace. Then he crosses arms over his chest and fixes them with heavy glare.

"I'm going to make you hot tea while you talk. Caster, next time don't run almost naked in snow."

this was freaking beautiful

futhark - 2018-09-21 20:40 (UTC) - Expand

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cw: self-harm

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surprise hijack

Closed to Alex

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Closed to Ebisu

ALMOST... FORGOT ABOUT THIS... OOPS.

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Closed to Iskandar - January 19th

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