Day 255 - Thoughtful Zombie

[four_quarts]

Who: Ghaleon and Zulf
Open: closed
When: Night 255
Where: Zulf's room
What: insomnia
Format: action



[Three days.

Seventy two hours.

While not exact, that is how long Ghaleon has been unable to sleep. No matter what he's tried, nothing has helped his mind stop racing. There doesn't seem to be any particular reason behind it; his brain just seems to keep finding a new topic to dwell on each time he dispels the last.

It's rude at best to teleport into someone else's bedroom unannounced at any hour. At this point, Ghaleon is far too exhausted to care.]

...Zulf. I need your help.

Comments

[fuckthemancers]

[Yeah. 'Rude'. That's a nice way to put it. Another way to put it is terrifying.]

[Zulf's own sleep is... as good as it's ever been, which is to say that sometimes it's decent and other times Zia has to shove him into bed and be there when he inevitably wakes up wanting to scream. Tonight, he's delaying sleep a bit although he's already in his nightgown. He's tracing his fingers along the words in a book, just lost in thought...]

[And then he nearly has a heart attack at the sudden appearance of Ghaleon in his room, book falling to the ground with a heavy thump. His hand goes to his chest.]

What in- was that really necessary?

[four_quarts]

Yes. It's an urgent matter.

[Yep, not the slightest hint of remorse for being terrifying.]

[fuckthemancers]

[Well, all that worry starts to make him worried as well, and he carefully gets up.]

What's wrong? What can I do to help?

[four_quarts]

[He runs a hand through his hair.]

Talk to me. The subject does not matter. Perhaps hearing the thoughts of someone else will quiet my own.

[fuckthemancers]

[Ah. A more personal problem than anything affecting the Bastion as a whole. Zulf calms down before awkwardly gesturing to a chair.]

Well... You're more than welcome to sit down then, if you wish. Would... perhaps a story of the Pantheon be suitable? Of Lemaign, or Acobi... I know just about every tale, I believe.

[four_quarts]

[It may currently be a personal problem, but if this goes on too long he knows that it could well become everyone's problem. Ghaleon sits heavily in the offered chair.]

Provided they do not involve the use of a mortal to further their ambitions. I am much too tired to hear of events that were my reality only months ago.

[And crushing bits of the chair in anger would be a poor way to thank his host for actually accepting his request instead of trying to boot him out.]

[fuckthemancers]

The Pantheon rarely involve themselves in the affairs of their mortal kin in such a manner. More often than not, when they are play tricks, it is on one another. The Lorn Mother frowns upon her eldest children when they are cruel outside their station in regards to their eternally younger mortal kin.

[Settling back to sit on his bed, Zulf folds his hands on top of his lap.]

I told the origin story during the Harvest Festival, but that was some time ago... I don't believe you were here then. I'll give you the abridged version.

Micia was born first, skin of stars and hair of the night's blackness, and out of longing she created the world by offering her own heart in its making. From the earth her heart made, Pyth struggled out and was her first son. Desiring more children, she attempted to create the first mortals, but they perished almost immediately in her then unskilled hands. Her mourning tears then created the rivers, lakes, and oceans...

When she had recovered, she resolved herself to do better, and thus sculpted two new children, and then two more: Acobi and Lemaign, Jevel and Garmuth, in that order.

The effort was too much for her, however, for she had no heart to sustain her. She needed the brightest star in the sky to replace the heart she had given for the world. Garmuth directed his siblings wisely, and thus sent Acobi, Jevel, and Pyth to retrieve this new heart. Lemaign stayed behind, and crafted an enormous hammer out of the hope his mother had bestowed upon him at his birth. With it, he protected her and his weaker brother against the beasts and monsters which had come to grow in the unsupervised world which sought to do harm to his family.

It lasted him until his brother Jevel returned with the new heart, and then it crumbled in his hands.

[four_quarts]

[Ghaleon listens patiently throughout the tale, and at the end nods thoughtfully. It is an interesting tale; perhaps he should like to meet Micia if the opportunity ever arises.

A moment passes before he finally responds.]

...I see. And your people? What are your origins?

[fuckthemancers]

[Ghaleon, please do not fuck up things with his Gods]

We are the Lorn Mother's final children, not immortal like her eldest but not losing our place in the physical realm so quickly like her first attempt at birthing life. Much like her, our skin is pale like the stars which started creation and our hair dark like the night sky in which they reside.

[There's a pause, and he gives a dry grin.]

Of course, the Caels would tell you that the Lorn Mother made them before the Ura out of the same earth that brought forth her eldest child Pyth. Both sides have always seemed to differ on that.

[four_quarts]

[By Althena, Zulf, he's not going to try and commit deicide or anything. He respects a near total non-interference policy, even if he can't really agree with outright worshiping any gods anymore.]

Mm. Those both sound much like tales I heard the humans of my world tell when I was young, although our goddess was named Althena and our place of origin was our eternal companion, the Blue Star. They were at least partially correct too: I had the pleasure of knowing Althena personally, and she did indeed lead the people of the Blue Star to Lunar in times long past.

However, unlike humans, my people did not always appear as I do - or rather, as I once did. [He pauses a moment in thought.] ...Well, I suppose most never looked quite close to human enough to blend in well, but I suppose that furthers my point. You see, we were once much more monstrous in appearance; claws, scales, even extra limbs were not unheard of. When I was small, I was told it was Althena who changed us, hoping that a more pleasant form might allow us to live alongside humans without causing them alarm, for she hoped we would teach them to use a gift we find as natural as breathing. She wished for us to teach them magic.

[Ghaleon smiles softly, looking very, very tired and somehow terribly ancient.]

...I was the last to grant that wish. What more fitting end to a hero's tale than for the monster to be slain with the help of the very niece and apprentice it had helped to nurture the potential of?

[And in spite of everything, he is truly proud of them for that.]

[fuckthemancers]

[He listens to it all carefully, but the finish just draws about a frown to Zulf's face.]

...What makes 'monsters'? I know that plenty of ugly pasts behind them before coming here- myself included- but... You don't seem like the person who could be easily called a 'monster'.

[four_quarts]

[Ghaleon yawns softly before replying.]

As you mean it, no. I may be able to act the part well when circumstances call for it, but I could not be a true monster to save my own life.

[He adds quietly to himself:] ...For all the good that did.

[fuckthemancers]

...Is... this what's been making it difficult for you to sleep?

[four_quarts]

This, and a thousand other thoughts, scattering and becoming a thousand more...

The smell of a town that disappeared long ago. A song my elder sister used to sing. Tomatoes. I am the last. How fast can a Pecker fly? What is the ground below like? Do plants have feelings? Will my body one day disappear? Where might we get more books? Should I make it snow soon?

[He sinks into the chair just a bit more, clearly having given up somewhat on complete coherence.]

...You see my problem.