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 Posted: Sun Nov 08, 2015 10:27 am
Ashanite responded to Mont Blonc's smile with one of his own. He didn't even have to lie, or spin this, or anything - it was right there. And in a way, that hurt, because obviously even his past self was a better, more honest man than he - but there was no sense dwelling.
"Close, hmm?" He teased, raising an eyebrow. It was far too easy to tease, especially since it would almost undoubtedly fluster his companion. "I'm glad we found each other again, then. I don't know what I'd do without you." Let Mont Blonc interpret that how he liked. "Be very alone, I suppose." True enough.
He looked around, at all the strange, branching hallways with their infnite possibilities. "How about we go tot he art room? I'd hate for us to get turned around on your Wonder just because I was curious." He said, but he was still obviously taking in as much as he could. Saturn was lost to him, but he would hold onto any pieces he could get.
At the suggestion that he could return, his expression changed, to a much sadder one. "You might be willing, but..." He shrugged, a little. "I can't be disappearing for hours on end. Especially not if I was last in the company of a Knight." The whys should be obvious enough.
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Posted: Sun Nov 08, 2015 12:31 pm
A blush, fierce and red, slipped across his cheeks in a too-familiar way, and he sputtered out a few things that might or might not have been words before Ploutonion spoke again. And those words did nothing to reduce his flustered blush, although for an entirely different reason, delightfully flattered whether or not he actually believed himself to be the ideal knight, or remotely ideal company.
"I'm glad we did too," he said, a smile on his face, vibrant and bright. "I - even from the beginning, I - was really happy to meet you, you know. E-even with -" His eyes grew a bit sad. "With everything, I'm - I'm so happy that wasn't the end."
As for the pathway, "Then, art room it is, " he declared, leading what was probably the way. It felt like he was going the right way at any rate. It wasn't really like the halls themselves were so different from one another that he'd seen yet. There were probably nuances in those carvings on the walls, riddled with images of the ancient canine, whatever it meant, but Mont Blonc had yet to pay enough attention to truly take note of them.
The torches grew aflame as they walked through the too-silent halls, and at the sadness on his friend's face, Mont Blonc was this time the one to reach out, snaking an arm around the captain's shoulders. "W-we... could figure out ways?" he offered tentatively. "I - uhm - I mean - I don't want to get you in trouble, b-but - maybe we could keep it a secret? No one would have to know but us?" he offered hopefully, maybe too much so.
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Posted: Sun Nov 08, 2015 1:25 pm
Ashanite laughed, just a little. The implication had obviously had exactly the intended effect. It was cute, how easy it was to make Mont Blonc blush and stutter, and it was quickly becoming his favorite game to play with the sweet Squire. And he felt a brief flare of guilt, because it was clear how important their friendship was - and it was all built on a lie, on a misdirection.
But it would not be his responsibility to pick Mont Blonc up when the truth came out. He had a team, as he so repeatedly insisted. That was their job.
He let the other man lead, deeper into the Wonder, taking in the caverns and the magic torches and all of it. Every little flicker and flash of magic was fascinating.
He let out a tiny, sad laugh. "They'd find out. I'm not sure how, but...they would." Exaggerate the capabilities of his captors, build on his own "fear." "I would like to try, though. There's so much here to see...I'd like to explore it with you."
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Posted: Sun Nov 08, 2015 1:39 pm
I'd like to explore it with you.
This much, I can do.
As much as he feared his wonder, the visions that he knew were normal for people like them but still sent odd chills of deja vu down his spine, both for the past and the future, if Ploutonion could draw some sort of solace from this dismal place -
"Then - then let's find a way to make it work," he stuttered out, sounding not half as strong as he felt. "Because, I - I don't want to come here alone anyway, so - and you seem to have a connection here, too, so - so I can tell you, and we can - explore together, maybe."
A way, a promise to make sure he could not lose sight of him. A way to ensure that people like Umber and that general did not take him completely, chip away at what Ploutonion had been to forge Ashanite from the rubble, so that maybe one day the fear would be gone and their friend would return to them. If his wonder could do something like that, then - then it would be worth it to come.
It was around then that Mont Blonc stopped near a door, pondering it for a moment before tugging the knob and swinging open the door. "Ah - here! A-anyway, it's the room I was telling you about, the art room." Old charcoals and paints everywhere with works of art in all stages of creation, some abandoned, some painstakingly labored over and tucked securely into corners.
There were a lot of things in this room - probably a lot of memories, too, whether or not Mont Blonc held the key to them yet.
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Posted: Sun Nov 08, 2015 1:54 pm
Ashanite nodded. "It can't be too regular - I'm not sure how often you can come, I only ever went to my Wonder twice - but...a visit, every once in a while." He considered, aloud. He reached up to run his fingers through his hair, fluffing it briefly. "We can...make it work, somehow," he said. "You deserve to know however much of your past you can discover. Mine is lost to me, but if I can help you be more comfortable finding yours..."
Perhaps he could make up, a little, for everything he had done and would do. Or perhaps he would just make the inevitable betrayal worse.
Ah well, he had made his bed, he would have to lie in it.
He found himself looking around the art room with interest, and only then did he take his hand out of Monty's. "Is it alright if I touch?" He asked, before he actually going to look at the paintings.
And for a moment, there might be a memory - of Vincenzo, posing for the white-haired man to work. His body language and expression said that Vincenzo was flirting, blatantly.
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Posted: Thu Nov 12, 2015 1:17 am
"It doesn't need to be regular," Mont Blonc was quick to reassure him, because really, who would peg him as one to whine and moan that his friend in his precarious position couldn't just drop everything and come to his wonder at the drop of a hat? "Just... whenever you need to get away for awhile. Or if you just want to talk to me, y-you know, safely - Whatever you need from this place, whenever, it's yours." With no prying eyes or ears to find them. And the mention of Ploutonion's loss struck him again, hard, but he smiled softly back in return. "I'd l-like that - thank you. Thank you so much."
Whether or not he really wanted to know more about this awful place and the ghosts within was kind of up for debate, still, but... it was moving that Ploutonion wanted to help him. More to the point, it was enough thing that would keep his friend coming back. Even sporadically, it was better than every goodbye sounding utterly finalized, never knowing which would be the last for good.
Mont Blonc let his hand slip away with a warm smile. "Please. I don't really know much of anything about - " He stared at the mirage, the phantom image of the man he now knew to be called 'Vincenzo'. The former Mont Blonc sat before him with a distinct smile on his face that seemed almost out of place, too bright for such a dour face, his long hair tied back and sweeping around his shoulders with traces of charcoal lacing the white pure of it.
"He was - you were - here, too," Mont Blonc murmured, trying to keep his voice from getting tight as he told himself there was no reason to be afraid. Vincenzo looked anything but threatening, and the man with the white hair looked nothing but happy to see him, even as he worked furiously on a pad of paper tucked into his lap.
Then, the squire's yellow eyes traveled down. He took in a sharp breath that was more out of surprise than any shade of fear as he took in the sheet of paper lying at his feet.
"It's him. - that's him, right? - I mean you - the last you."
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Posted: Thu Nov 12, 2015 6:40 pm
Ashanite nodded. It felt strange, perhaps inappropriate, to use someone else's Wonder as a place of safety - but even if his corruption was a lie, even if he exaggerated the amount of danger he was in, he was still in some danger, was still surrounded by people who distrusted him.
"I can't be there for you as much as I would like to - I certainly can't repay you for all the kindness you've shown me." He smiled faintly. "But I'll be glad to spend as much time here with you as I can."
Even if it was unfair, even if he was stealing time Mont Blonc should be spending with people who weren't trying to turn him to the Negaverse once they got everything they could from him.
Given permission, he ran his hand over one of the paintings, fingers delicate. It felt strange, under his hands - but then, he had never touched a thousand-year-old painting before. He glanced up, when Mont Blonc said he had been here, too, and gave a real, genuine smile.
"And now I'm back," he said, lightly. "Do you...?" He gestured at the paintings around them, hoping the rest of his query was obvious. But with attention called to the drawing Mont Blonc had found, he turneded from the painting he was examining to bend and pick up the charcoal sketch.
"It..." It was striking, to see someone so like himself rendered in a thousand-year-old piece of art. "Yes, it is."
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Posted: Fri Nov 13, 2015 12:02 am
The promise, if it could be counted as one, made the squire quietly smile to himself, his hair falling into his face and across his eyes. "You owe me nothing - you just being you is enough," he said, wondering not for the first time why, how people always managed to say that Mont Blonc was not at fault in this whole mess. Even Scholomance disavowed him of blame, and he could usually count on his friend to be nothing but honest with him about his shortcomings and faults.
It wasn't that he wanted Ploutonion to hate him, and the squire was so glad that he remained seemingly unchanged by his corruption, that he forgave Mont Blonc again and again and said he'd never needed forgiveness to begin with. But he also wished his friend would stop speaking of him as though he were so great, so kind... because none of this would've been if he hadn't failed to him to begin with.
There were so many regrets, and not enough time in any life to swallow them all.
"I... " He blushed, feeling a little silly for his utter lack of knowledge when it came to this place, to himself even. "I think so? - I saw myself, I-I mean the old Mont Blonc, just now, working, so... I... don't really know much of anything about these things myself, but... "
But no. He'd felt it the first time, and felt it now. There was something significant about this place. Maybe not to the wonder and its history, but... to him, maybe?
His blush darkened as he glanced around the room, taking note of other works, sketches and paintings alike, more images of the man who'd been Ploutonion scattered among them. "It's, um. That's not the only one."
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Posted: Fri Nov 13, 2015 1:23 am
Ashanite responded with a smile, and a brief headshake, and nothing more. It was hard to say that he was himself, when he wasn't even certain who that was. But Mont Blonc absolutely did not need a glance down that rabbit hole, not when it led only to questions Ashanite had no desire to answer or even attempt to answer.
So instead he let himself focus on the paintings, the sketches, the fascinating tidbits of information he could wring from this place about his own previous life. What did it mean, that there were so many drawings of the man he had once been? What sort of relationship had the last guardian of the Black Gates had with the Knight of Mont Blonc?
"You - he - must have spent a lot of time, here," he said. "Both of them, apparently." They must have, for all of these sketches to be produced. "A favored subject, or perhaps just a convenient one." He took a few steps closer, idly running fingers through the end of Mont Blonc's hair.
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Posted: Sun Dec 13, 2015 1:06 am
The touches were reassuring. Mont Blonc shut his eyes for a moment; for someone who typically blushed and fidgeted over the smallest things, it was perhaps surprising how much solace he took in the simplest of touches from those people he considered friend, especially those who shared his connection with Saturn. (Or had.) The redness remained on his cheeks, but in spite of the fact that he was constantly uneasy on his wonder, it was clear that he was anything but when it came to Ploutonion.
To put it simply - he trusted him. And the fact that part of Ploutonion had once existed here made it easier.
The squire opened his mouth for a moment, as if he meant to apologize - but he hadn't yet taken the action yet worth apologizing for, and the longer he thought about it the more ridiculous it seemed, but no less desirable, and -
With a shaking breath, he let his head drop, resting against Ploutonion's shoulder. Again, he wanted to apologize for it - but his tongue tied and the words would not come, his face burning out of shame for the touch that might or might not be welcome. But it felt - it felt - needed? Why? Why did it - ?
'Alphonse.'
The voice was not one he knew, another ghost whispering in his ear, traveling through him like a lacing bolt of lightning. But it was not the voice of the white-haired man... and he had a suspicion that maybe he knew what it was, and who it was for.
"Alphonse, " he echoed, soft and almost awed. "I think... my name was Alphonse."
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Posted: Sat Dec 26, 2015 7:02 pm
Ashanite blinked, briefly, when Mont Blonc's head rested on his shoulder, but a half-smile drew itself across his face and he slid an arm around the Squire's shoulders, fingers gently continuing to fiddle with his hair.
"Alphonse," he said, and it rolled off his tongue easily. "I like that name." Though he was sure he would have liked any name, if it was Mont Blonc's - present or past.
(He really had to stop thinking that way. It was just going to end up hurting worse, when the truth inevitably came out. It always did.)
For the moment, he was quietly content. Even if he shouldn't be, and he was stealing moments that should have been given to someone else.
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