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Startling at least was very rarely violent, and his eyes fluttered full-open from their thousand-yard half closed. The fires re-lit. He had not been present, half-drift between meditations, waking and sleeping. The book with the letters of Carl Sagan's name on the spine was laid aside, pushed to the space between seat cushion and the arm of the plush chair. The other hand covered over the talons for a moment, the digits of the hand gaining a flood of warmth as metabolism sped to accommodate activity and not 'sleep' state.

"That is not your usual demand." But the sculptor let hand fall again to support himself to rise to standing and stretch. He looked over shoulder through the screen of ashen bangs to see if there was a mask glued and garish over the painted face, "Alois."

"Are we staying here, or going out? " That his thoughts were made available went without saying, the question was where the half-youma would feel at ease to make use of them. A shiver raced Quenton's spine- it sounded like a start to a heavier discussion. After so long. I've missed it face to face. Your voice and cadence of breath. Yes. We can talk.

Quenton got as far as the kitchenette to put on water as he listened. It took looking back, the intention to follow conversation with direct eye contact until the kettle whistled, to notice the cat-like acquisition of his seat-in-absentia. I wonder how often he gets tar stuck in his own hair, having his hands near his face ever

Even with the digression of one thought, the rest of his mind focused on the set of the wings and shoulders, the lines and locations of blue hues mottling the thinned skin. "Common device for trying to encourage feeling better- shift the blame on others....Blaming protects the heart, this...Metallia, protecting that soft domination in each individual self. If you cannot, in your feeling and thought, assign the ownership of that pain to the heart, you're left scrambling. Your soul remains in the dark and you will be able to commit not only myriad sin but bring about greater darkness. "

"There is a reason that every empire whose proletariat has gained reason and education, has learned logic, has overthrown slavery and tyranny. Or is working towards that." He left it at that a moment, brewing tea for a precise 4 minutes, sweetened with gentle honey and cream, and brought over two mugs. Quenton didn't trouble about the seat- they were both narrow as hunting hounds and could easily fit even perpendicular on the seat without stressing the oak frame under the deep cushion. He climbed aboard, tucking leg into space between the boney hip and the seat back in a kneel, straddled Alois' hips, and brought up the second leg to complete the hemming in on the last ledge of the seat cushion.

Then he offered the second mug down. If Alois' claws became a trouble in drinking with the implement, it was simple enough to transfer the hot, sweet nectar mouth to mouth. He looked to need some heat in his stomach to encourage blood flow before risking offering food. "Left full faculties any creature has free will, even if they do not choose to exercise it. The tyrant doesn't invest without surety of payment back- best to block your will against the source of all things, if not others. It only ultimately matters if you are a loyal tool to the source. "

"The self is neutered- *Also, meine Liebsten, wie ihr allezeit seid gehorsam gewesen, nicht allein in meiner Gegenwart sondern auch nun viel mehr in meiner Abwesenheit, schaffet, daß ihr selig werdet, mit Furcht und Zittern."

"At best, it is your will against Metallia's in your own body. You must be master of yourself. At worst, a method...some other magic must exist, to cut the connection for even an hour so that you can think and exercise your will clearly and build up new wall. The magic exists to begin with to separate you from your will; there must be some process to modify it to cut you from hers. This isn't a philosopher's stone with no precedent- the process is there in one proof in you. "

"If we want surety- Have you observed it in others? Have you tried goading others of your organization to lay blame on Metallia, or have you observed torment in rejection of her will and that struggle?"

Should I be jealous? The implications of the ideal itself personified, lover-χάος was one that drew closer to the mark of something 'threatening' the way others may have found Alois' other bedmates. 'Should' put it too vaguely. The obsession was there and plain. It had been in conversation many times. It was already an impulse acted on, relished, developed and hungered for often enough until it ceased to serve new mysteries to keep the General's attentions.

Unkind. The questions of what brought this change of awareness of what Metallia is and is doing to you, is full of cynical answers. The impulse and regard was there from the start, even if we can't just prove it.You did and do have some satisfaction of the villainy. The callousness towards other persons beyond introversion, the abuse of animals, the casual detatchments but fascinations with breaking to come to understanding, all point to some maladjustment in developmental awareness that has manifested antisocially. We seek the stages we miss- whether object permanence or the actualization of others as autonomous and equal selves like us. People who bore the loaded gun and drove thorns into skin out of Abramović's 72 items because they had the power to in their hands. Because she gave it them.

The question the- do they make us better? More whole? Better for what purpose intended? I'm circling. We've done that one before.

"It could be such a way. How some lips adore the poisoned cup for its burning instead of water for its freshness. And the youth survived his own shame, pattern and precedent set in his body made most wretched- "

"Need puts us to a heavy task." The old impatience and expressions at burning his tongue were their own tears, servants to obsequious heart and memory not yet committed to the grave, if such weeping was kindness at all to either of them. It was human.

The tracing finger as well. The marring drew attention as it was from normal fare, but from Alois it had always seemed an especial point of interest. The fallen Dresden to the fair youthful face, most like. An 'improvement', And wear a mask and go by Alicia Hunt? I'm even blonde. I'd need a dress fit for Ascot races and a hat.

The pad of the finger was kissed ere withdrawal. Distractions at his thigh- right hand small favour to grace right thigh when it was the left that had taken the burning and the tar. The skin there was still uncertain if it wanted to be too sensitive or not at all. It drew thoughts and attention to Alois' new-old wounds, looking for how the they healed. Was it like a black cat, who's scars came in with white fur as the Youma pieces claiming more territory on the human corpse? Or did the cauterizations and stab wounds heal with knotted flesh streaks like any other man?

"Does it cost them much to take you? Keeping control group, if there is time, would be to go if you can to whatever far reach and see if there is a difference. Thought, senses, or the strength offered you in power and mobility. If the chaos is weakened in you, it might be a hope for a second shot at freedom. Or at least a piece of a puzzle that would work. Are there others with the power to do so? Just the one girl wasn't enough. Getting however many their are might be another avenue to increase the strength of their...spell."

Even as a senshi himself, the word 'spell' can rough and disfavored in tone. Spells, rituals and mysticism, and all the culture and history were poor husbands to reasonable conversation.

"Skepticism and question helps us to grow, but you let it twist to the blind mastery of authority again. "

"The runaway. Even the 'juvenile' rebelling against their parents comes of reasons for it. If there is flaw or short sightedness, it doesn't lesson the spirit of rebellion itself- even a failed attempt brings attention to the flaw and can plant seeds for later success or change. Nor does sustaining yourself refute reason for the move. You do little more than survive in their ranks. You can do that much on the street, but have the freedom to do and think as you choose. "

His first instinct was to toss the whole of his own drink into the Alois' face. The scalding and breech of etiquette would get attention, surely. Bad shocks usually did. But this was more than just needing him to attend and focus- it was as much a plea for support as the rest. It was a long haul already, and with a failure under belt that was grave (as much as it had lacked in taking him to the peace of one.) Quenton opted for a lesser version, dipping his fingers into his drink and flicking them at Alois' face like a truant cat on the counters. He followed the spatter of liquid with a lean forward. His mug was held out to the side of them, hovering over the floor threatening it. Lips brushed lips, then backed enough to let flame piece gold and speech make brushes of intimacy. The position felt bodily familiar, suggestive, distracting and comforting. He fanned his second hand along a too-prominent clavicle. "Why do you suddenly want to 'accept', which is to say capitulate, to surrender? What would you gain? Happiness? You don't have that now, and nothing they have wrought brings it. Purpose? Again, there is none now except the enigmatic and self serving ones of your leader. You haven't gained anything from it but closer slavery. You speak of capitulation like you should because nothing has changed and nothing will change as though that will somehow convince yourself that its become more acceptable and bearable now than it has for the last however many months you've served."

"You are speaking out of exhaustion, not sense. The damned in the Inferno didn't feel better or languish less if they accepted their lot. Do not love Metallia- she does not love, only consumes. The 'bounty' of her love is starvation, the promises given more slavery, her mercy to be made one of those will-less shadows of the Rift you so revile to live in." A used up toy that has spilled over with malice and no longer has enough humanity to gather energy or serve better purpose than shock fodder. Forgotten and left in this...Rift.

And your own enjoyment of schadenfreude, of 'changing' others with suffering, only they never did much. It wasn't the right kind. Fear and pain alone, sudden and senselessly random, are constrained to reactionary lessons and then out of sight once the threat is out of mind. Or if the subject dies it is equally useless. No. This is not a tribunal to judge your deeds. I need relate none of that. That phrasing, even if the reasons are good, feels too like shaming and judgement. He does not need torn down, reacts badly to just correction. Correction without showing alternatives is a cell without a door, window or key anyway.

"Defeat and failure are temporary states- they can be overcome on following battles and experiments. They necessitate further tries. The only certain, pervasive ending is giving up. It is permanent. You've come so far, Alois. Of course the path seems redundant- rock bottom is the same rock wherever you stand, but it can be built upon with surety of foundation. Try the next step- getting as far away as possible from Metallia and seeing if there is an effect in you. One of those at that ceremony must be willing, if they stood by you that far. The man in the roman gear, the woman with the star magic, one of the senshi that surrounded the woman with the wings. We can work this out, variable at a time."

The inclusion was deliberate, punctuated with gentle stroking of cheek against cheek. "Keep to choice, keep trying, and I will help you. I will help you on this side, and I will be there to help you on the other. Choice is worth the suffering, is the suffering, is the lesson."

"The unchained intellect has no price. You are worth it," Quenton set his own drink down to better push both hands into the lanky, black hanks of hair and massage the temporalis muscles beneath. "You need actual rest in the sleep- deep repair doesn't come to the hunted."

"I will watch over you."

Considerin what you've done as Bischofite, the calling of ending your life 'murder' might be a subject of its own interesting debate. That you hold it in every iteration of wishing for it, talking of it, is something of a proof that there is still a want for survival there. You still consider it a crime that anyone should seek to end your life.

"Kairatos...? of Knossos?" He had enough slides of the remains of the palace and its archeology in the Bronze Age slide series of lectures he had to give to the freshman Early Art Class to have recognition of the river is not its relation to the Knight in question. What did a Knight have to do with a river in Greece? The rest of it sounded suspect, but Quenton refrained from leveling any 'looks' - "Just how Kairatos came by your starseed was melodramatic, I wager, and by your own hand in half want and experimental hope that it wasn't returned. "

It was the sort of thing someone who wanted to die, but wanted to survive, would do- continue putting the choice in someone elses hands. The kiss, and breath hot from words against his neck distracted the train of thoughts. In another time and place, with a regular person, they could have convinced themselves for the count of seconds that their lover was returned and live almost normal.

He couldn't even pretend his mind could push the reality away. It was Alois, yes, but it was also Bischofite. Funny lessons, the judgements passed on others idly and without solid cause can so quickly come back home. I thought in horror at first assumptions that Ida had been sleeping with him after learning he was of the Negaverse. And all my kisses, letters, and the food left for him? letting him sleep here? You must answer for it, Thraen. What is it that you are doing? Would you sleep with him now? How does the revelation come to the seat of your high ideals?

Quenton gave no vocal answer but carefully pulled away to the stand by the chair. Strong, calloused hands accustomed to stone carving, pouring and welding metal, and pushing earth -clays to form threaded under base of wings and knees to lift the insignificant weight.

"Rest, lover."