abraxaslogs | ❄ october catch-all

( It's a question that deserves as much attention as anything, and Jill sets the food aside for a moment, gaze cast down as she gathers the right words, though as she speaks her tone gets sharper and sharper. )

Almost. It is used to light fires, to heal and to wound. But those that cannot use magic naturally must rely on crystals to do so, and those who can are enslaved so that they can be ordered around, dictated to on how to direct and use their magic. They are treated like things, and-- ( Jill's anger fades, her shoulders dropping somewhat as she returns to chopping her vegetables. ) discarded when the magic takes its toll on their bodies.

( A shake of her head. )

So yes, we rely on it too much.

[ As soon as she asks the question, Hilda can tell based on Jill's halted actions and the way her voice sharpens that she had inadvertently brushed against a sensitive subject. It's a stark contrast to the calm, pleasant demeanour from before.

Hilda stills too, unable to stop herself from holding her breath, an apology already on the tip of her tongue. Her cheeks burn slightly with shame at her own fumble, but her brows furrow as if borrowing some of that anger from Jill. Faintly she can't help but wonder if Jill is a magic user - if she had to undergo some of that treatment as well. ]

What? That's awful! I'm sorry feels so useless to say here but I also just -

[ She falters. What else were you supposed to say after hearing that? It seems insensitive to ask if Jill had experienced that treatment firsthand, especially when this is their first meeting. ]

But if they were able to use magic naturally, wouldn't they have been able to fight back somehow?

( Jill is lucky, in her estimation, that she was never branded herself. A Dominant; there are none who would dare push her too far without breaking her spirit first out of fear that her retribution would come for them all. That she spent slightly less than half of her life in chains, a slave in all but name to the whims of a nation that used her power for assassinations and warfare at the pain of not her death, but that of children, does not change her opinion of her fate. She is a lucky one -- she was freed, and not through her own doing.

Hilda's question doesn't take her aback, but instead gets a rueful, tight smile from her. )

Perhaps, once. But it has been centuries upon centuries of this -- one forgets how to fight after enough time. That it is even an option at all. ( And it eats at her, her own failure to do so. ) But it is my hope that one day, perhaps soon, there will be no magic in our world. That all will be equal and free.

( Clive said he was successful, and Jill clings to that hope as hard as she can. She's stopped prepping her food completely, and begins to start again. )

But enough about my world. Tell me more of yours, if you'd like.

[ There's a quiet strength to this young woman in front of her. It could come from any number of things - injustices and being unable to do anything about them, seeing loved ones have to go through them, being a victim of it herself - whatever the reason or reasons, something that can only be called respect stirs in Hilda.

She understands what complacency and turning a blind eye looks like in the face of an oppressive, unpleasant force. She's worn it, maybe been the poster child for it in some respects. Which really only makes the respect even more deserving - and perhaps prompts her to offer up something about Fodlan that she hadn't really talked about at length before.

Pulling another knife and cutting board towards her, Hilda offers a hand out for some vegetables in a silent offer to help. She gives her a short, quiet laugh. ]

You sound a lot like my friend who could probably explain this a lot better than I can. He's trying to achieve equality in our world.

[ There's unwavering admiration in her voice as she speaks to Claude's dreams. But after a moment it ebbs into something a little more sobering. ]

But instead of magic we have something called Crests in Fodlan. They've been passed down through bloodlines which makes them really valuable to noble families. It's caused a lot of problems for children that are born in those families that don't have Crests because if they don't they could be passed over for inheritance or disowned completely.

( Jill happily hands the vegetables over, glad for the help, and starts preparing the meat she'd conjured up -- beef and chocobo. Though the latter just looks like a rather large bird thigh. She listens with that same quiet intensity, though part of her can't help but feel pleased that there were others on various other worlds who weren't going to simply let inequality stand.

Something in Jill's chest catches at Hilda's, her mind instantly going to Clive. Perhaps nobility was all the same, no matter which world. How horrible that is, that the people who were responsible for the wellbeing of the people could be so cruel to their own family. )

I can imagine all too well what they would do to those who were born without them. ( She says, after a moment, picking her words carefully. Jill has no wish to air Clive's struggles to people he doesn't even know; he hasn't even told Gav, she knows. Or Otto. ) There are those in my world who easily eschew their children should fate have other things in store for them than expected.

[ Vegetables in hand, Hilda gets to work. Her work is slower than Jill's, but methodical. Like someone who wanted to do something correctly even if it wasn't her favourite thing to do in the world. The pieces end up in neat little rounds or cubes - whatever it is that Jill has in mind.

Hilda's thoughts drift to Sylvain and Miklan before going to Holst and herself. Once again it doesn't escape her how similar their lives could have been had Holst become a vengeful person or had her parents cared more for a child with a Crest over someone who was incredibly capable without it. ]

Sometimes passing over them as heir is the kindest outcome. [ But that isn't always the case. In fact it's rare. She attempts to pull some levity into her voice. ] But that isn't always the case. Holst, my brother, wasn't born with a Crest and he's still the heir to our family. If our parents cared much for a child having a Crest, it would have been me instead - which honestly sounds like far too much work.

Then I am glad for you that thinks have worked out in your favor. ( She says, genuine in her kindness. ) The country I grew up in had a different perspective. There are... Bearers born with more power than others -- the details are complicated, I suppose, but there is only ever one of a certain aspected magic in a generation. And in Rosaria this individual leads the country, with marriages being made in order to ensure that they are born within the line of succession.

( A sigh, as she adds the meat to a hot pan, watching it sizzle in the oil. )

The eldest son of the Archduke failed to awaken any magical talent at all, and his mother turned upon him with a hate unlike any other. Her own son, her own flesh and blood -- she would have sooner seen him dead than love him. ( Oh, Anabella hated Jill, regarded her as a savage not worth keeping around -- not when Elwin would have had her marry either Clive or Joshua. But that was understandable. To hate Clive-- ) He still bears the scars of it even now.

[ Jill's genuine kindness touches Hilda, but it isn't quite enough to dispel some of the lingering guilt that she feels as silly as it is to feel that. ]

Rosaria is starting to sound a lot like Fodlan.

[ All of the noble lines and ruling bodies had a Crest - Edelgard, Dimitri, Claude - there wasn't a leader that didn't have one as far as she was aware. ]

Although the place I'm from - the Leicester Alliance - is ruled by a governing body of the nobles families there unlike the other two nations in Fodlan. The families there decided that they didn't want to bend to a king or the emperor. But I guess it's sort of the same thing in that sense even if the power is meant to be spread out.

[ It was a structure she vastly preferred for reasons that weren't solely related to the fact that shared work meant less work for her when she was sitting on the Roundtables. Lazy tendencies aside, it seemed like a far better political system because it meant that other opinions and voices would be taken into account. Or at least, that was the hope.

Her brows furrow at Jill's account of a mother scorning their own child. ]

That's awful. Do you know them personally? Are they okay? Scars aside of course.

There are very few countries governed like that in my world, though I think from my time here there is more value in such governance.

( But she is relatively certain no nation would survive what she and Clive hope to do -- what they have succeeded in doing -- and that no nation that would arise after them would be perfect. But that is part of the human experience, Jill knows, to never truly find perfection. Their flaws are what make them, drive them, just as much as their passions and bonds.

Bonds that tie her to the scorned firstborn son of the Duchess. )

I do. ( Unmistakable fondness creeps into her tone at that, though her face remains as neutral and as polite as ever. ) He is as good a man as any I have ever known.

( Something made far more impressive by what he has suffered, endured. Not just the hatred of his mother, but the years of slavery and war after. Yet Clive is not as different from that young boy she'd admired so much as a child, no matter how difficult he might find it to see the boy within the man himself. )

I'm sure there would still be problems but – [ She shrugs. ] that's not something I'll have to worry about if I return home.

[ Because once this war was over, and she knows that it will be thanks to the headache that had come from the comparison of timelines amongst her friends, that Holst would be the one taking over. The thought of having free time to do as she pleased again was something she had dreamed and hoped for when she was in the thick of war. But now, the thought of having the days stretch endless in front of her as her friends all moved onto things they wanted to do and strive after filled her with an odd gnawing sense of anxiety.

Jill's fond voie is enough to pull her from her thoughts. It's a stark difference from how she had spoken before and has her glancing over curiously. ]

Oh? [ A teasing tone creeps into Hilda's voice. Familiarity or lack of it will never stop her from sniffing out stories about love and affection. ] Do you maybe like this man too?

( It's one thing for all of the Hideaway to know of her affection for Clive, as it was back in Rosaria -- where workers in the castle would grin and smile at the both of them, making remarks about betrothal feasts and marriages to one of the Archduke's sons. It's another for someone to ask her plain as day, about liking Clive Rosfield.

Jill's cheeks pink, her gaze focusing on the work at hand rather than Hilda in order to hide her embarrassment a little. )

Quite a lot, yes.

( She feels as if this is an understatement, but she's unsure of how much Hilda wants to know about her love for a man she hasn't met. )

[ Up until now Hilda had been given the impression that Jill had been rather reserved. There was nothing wrong with that of course; some people were shyer upon first meeting and didn't really open up until you got to know them more. But there were always other things aside from time and familiarity that showed a person's colours. Affection for another is one of them. And if there's one thing Hilda Valentine Goneril loved more than all the sparkly accessories in the world it was seeing others in love.

Keen eyes spot the telltale pink against pale cheeks and a squeal of excitement comes from Hilda's lips as she immediately latches onto Jill's arm. That should tell Jill all she needs to know that she does, very much, want to know about her feelings for this amazing man. ]

Jill - tell me more! Does he know? Does he return your feelings? He must. I mean you're so lovely he'd have to be stupid not to.

( She makes a soft sound when Hilda squeals and grabs her, reeling slightly. The gesture isn't unwelcome though, just-- it's enough to make Jill turn a deeper shade of red. It's not something she's ever talked about; not really. Well, besides with Clive -- and even then there was always the way they understood that they were in love, and never needed to speak the words until later. )

He does, on both counts. ( She shakes her head, however. ) And I am... lucky beyond words that he feels the same.

[ Jill's pale complexion only serves to accentuate the blush on her cheeks and briefly Hilda can't help but think that it suits her. A woman in love never failed to send her heart beating a little faster like she was the one experiencing it.

Of course that being said, she knew when to back down if it seemed like it was getting a little too personal for Jill's tastes. But until she got the sense otherwise...

She lets out another gasp of delight. ]

Oh, I'm so glad to hear that! And is he here? You haven't been separated have you?

[ She hadn't been so certain about Viktor's plan to rip open the universe but she'd do it for Jill, this person she had just met, if that was the case. There was truly nothing worse in her mind than separating two lovers. ]

( It's strange, but not unwelcome, to have the attention of someone so firmly on her relationship with Clive. But Jill adores Clive, and will never tire of talking about him. Besides, the other woman has a way about her that seems to make her want to talk. )

No, we haven't. He's in Thorne -- the same as I. ( Jill snorts with amusement, shaking her head as she finishes cooking the meat and moving onto adding the potatoes and vegetables that Hilda has prepared. ) Had he have ended in any other faction, you would have doubtless heard of his efforts to either come to me or bring me to him.

( Not because Clive is possessive or controlling, but simply because after all they have been through there is nothing that would ever stop him from returning to her side. The only thing that would is death, and even then Jill isn't convinced he would not do his utmost to find a way around that particular problem.

They have spent so long denying themselves the love of the other. Now that they have it, both of them are as committed to it as they are breathing. )

[ Relief releases the momentary bated breath that Hilda held waiting to hear from Jill that if she was here in Abraxas at least she was here with someone that she adored. The release makes way for the bubble of excitement to begin anew.

Jill's anecdote doesn't paint Clive as possessive in the least; in fact, swoons. ]

That's so romantic! Can you imagine? I mean, not that I would want that for either of you, but the thought of anyone going to rescue someone they love or be with them is truly a testament to how they feel about one another.

[ A childhood being fed fairy tales and stories of heroic gestures, love stories and more had left Hilda with an insatiable hunger for love stories whether they were her own or not. And lately, well, hers was turning out nothing like what she had ever imagined. Better to fill her belly with other people's stories.

That being said, she hasn't completely forgotten what they've been doing. ]

Will you tell me more? Once we're done that is? I can even make us some tea if you'd like some.

I'd rather him not end up imprisoned for it.

( She says, though a small smile chases across her face at the idea. But Clive has certainly come to her rescue, in more ways than one -- it is part of the reason she adores him; he is everything she could ever need and want.

As long as Jill has Clive, she has enough. )

If you'd like, yes. I would enjoy that greatly.

I hope he never does. [ Her smile turns a little goofy. ] But you have to admit that would probably only lend to your love story.

[ Her grin softens out into something warmer. ]

I would love that, Jill.

[ A random wander into someone's domain has turned into what she hopes will be a blossoming friendship. ]

❄ october catch-all

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wrapping this up, start a new thread soon?

🎀 consider it wrapped!