abraxaslogs | [OPEN] cold wind blowing beneath my wings

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[OPEN] cold wind blowing beneath my wings

WHO: Estinien Wyrmblood and YOU
WHAT: Estinien is back in the real world and not particularly happy about it, at least until he manages to meditate his way into the Horizon again. Meanwhile, his cellmate Relena goes missing and he gets very angry about it.
WHERE: In prison and also the Horizon.
WHEN: From July 24th to August 12th
NOTES: If you'd like something more specific with Estinien feel free to hit me up on the Discord or at

quixocalypse.

I➔ And Back Again

The descent from the Horizon feels akin to being summoned back to a dead body, both in terms of power and relative comfort. The aches and pains of his imprisonment return with merciless acuity. While his energy had been boundless in that higher realm, here it is reduced to scraps as the ravages of hunger and exhaustion weigh down on him. It's the contrast itself that is the most jarring, along with the fact that he wakes up in shackles.

Yes, the fear that had been haunting his subconscious his entire stay in the Horizon has come back into context. This is what he'd been desperate to escape, and now that he's returned to it, he feels no less dread. Even worse is the fact that Ambrose seems perfectly chuffed with himself for what they've experienced.

Upon being returned to prison, he wonders what it was all for. Any connection to the power of the Horizon seems to be gone, and given that somehow accessing the Singularity was his one hope of escape, their return leaves him in a rather dire mood. To make matters worse, it seems that the guards haven't forgotten about his aggression on the way to the portal, and also on the way back. They decide to deny him food entirely on his first day back to his cell. He should be glad he's not been simply put back into solitary, something in his gut says.

The atmosphere around him is one of miserable defeat, during those first few days back in prison. Even during the recreational hours, his accumulated frailty can be seen. As much as he tries to flex his muscles, he soon finds himself slumping against the rec yard wall. He's tired, starving, and clinging more and more tenuously to any sort of hope. Was the Horizon an escape at all, when it was all according to the High Mage's plan?

II➔ To The Horizon

Fortunately for him, his obsession driven life means he is not one accustomed to giving up for good. It takes only a couple of days before he realizes the futility in surrender - especially when he's hardly explored all his options. The Horizon was something experienced outside the body, was it not? So why not see if the connection remains?

He spends the rest of that day attempting to sink back into the Singularity's power, carefully clearing his thoughts. He is used to stilling his mind from years of being connected to Nidhogg's eye, but it has been a while since such intense concentration was required of him. He's not sure when it happens, but finally, something clicks.

Instead of awakening on his prison mattress, he wakes in a field of rolling grass - and not long after, a pile of snuffling karakul. Everything comes rushing back. He'd remembered his time in the Horizon, but something about experiencing it again reforges the connection between those two states of mind: the mind of the dragon, and the mind of his true self. To think, that all of this had been made by his hand.

He frees himself from the overzealous affection of his flock, a lifetime of memories allowing him to better keep his reflexive fear of them at bay. He wanders the valley for a while, his memories casting all he sees in a new light. What did it mean, that his unshackled soul decided to build this? Was this what he wanted, after everything? He comes along the long bit of housing within his domain, a single-family household carefully crafted of timber, but left completely empty inside. For all the time he'd spent in the valley, he spent little time dwelling on this creation. He thinks he can understand, the emptiness of its walls resonating with a similar emptiness in his heart.

He traces his fingers along the windows, across the door, but he doesn't dare open it. Instead, he decides he'd rather go somewhere else.

Without his memories, he hadn't been particularly curious about other people's domains, mostly interested in his own creations and keeping them safe. Now, though, a lifetime of experiences draws him to the outside world. He wonders if anyone else has reawakened to this place. He traverses the Horizon on foot this time, and occasionally in soaring leaps and bounds that are nearly akin to flying. Yet, he summons no wings. He can't imagine he made a particularly good impression on anyone, the way he was before.

III➔ The Weight of Absence (Aug 5+)

And then, some days later, Relena is taken.

He doesn't know the meaning of it, at first. The guards simply come to remove her from the cell, saying it's for some manner of 'trial', and she goes, with nothing he or Himeka could do to stop it. He demands answers at the time, shouting at the guards, but receives none. Initially, he wonders if she'll be freed, much like Kay was. It'd make sense, he thinks. If the trial was just, he could see no reason for her to be put in solitary or anywhere else, and he knows she has at least one friend on the outside.

Yet, when he doesn't hear anything from her in the coming days, he can no longer rely on that hopeful thought. Kay has been allowed to come and go, just like the other guests. Would Relena not have come to speak to them, after being freed? If not for him, for Himeka or the others?

As each day passes, his frustration and worry increases. He'll start attempting to flag down any passing guests, asking if they have seen her amount the others upstairs. On the way to recreation, he will check to be sure she hasn't simply changed cells, and ask around the other prisoners.

"Relena - the girl from my cell, with the long sandy hair - the guards have taken her somewhere. Have you seen her?"

With fewer and fewer kind possibilities in his mind, he'll start turning his aggression to the guards, shouting at them to ask for her location, and trying to grab at them through the bars when they inevitably ignore him. Finally, he manages to catch sight of a guard he thinks he recognizes from the day she disappeared. He manages to catch them by the arm, dragging them back against the bars of the cell.

"Where is the girl?" he snarls.

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"Huh?"

It's an unintelligent noise that slips out as he's wandering through the halls of the dungeon. He's come to really like all the prisoners a lot more than the honored guests; he likes their spunk and their tenacity; he likes their spirit and how it's not yet been broken. He wonders how much longer it will take before everyone decides to murder as many people as they can in pursuit of freedom and justice.

"Hey." Nero cries out instead as he gets a better look at the person behind the bars. His own pointed ears lift in interest. An elf! Unlike when he met Link, he's feeling at ease in meeting one of his kind in this situation. The reason for that is that the dungeon seals away their magic.

"Life seems to not be treating you very well, cousin." He saunters up to the cell so that he can get a better look. Leaning against the bars, he tilts his head up to look at the other elf. Fucking shit. He's tall. "Wanna talk about it? Sounds like you're having yourself a time."

Edited 2021-08-16 05:29 (UTC)

Estinien is standing in the corner, ostensibly just finishing up making use of the bucket that serves as their lavatory when Nero approaches, and he is clearly not prepared to be engaged with such enthusiasm. He jolts in surprise, hefting up his poor-quality hempen pants.

It's easy for him to notice that this man is a creature like him - an Elezen of some sort. Maybe too short to be an adult one, but without the features of a teen. It doesn't look quite right, through a mixture of his proportions and other more minor features, and it's enough for Estinien to be unsure.

Does it really matter, though? It's the first elf-like being he's seen since arriving in this world of Hyur. Not that it guarantees this man can be trusted.

He furrows his brow.

"Depends on who's asking," he says. "One of the High Mage's guests, I assume?"

"You assume right." His shoulders give a small shrug. He wonders if his cousin is sad that the High Mage didn't cry tears of joy at seeing his junk like he did Nero's. "He really just seemed to love my dick so much that he welcomed me into Thorne as a guest."

Did that actually happen? No. Does Nero like saying it happened? Yes.

Honestly, he isn't sure how else to take someone suddenly crying out in joy at seeing his whole hog. He certainly wasn't sure what to make of the warm welcome he got after climbing out of a well stark naked. Sure, it had something to do with the tarot that was drawn for him, but whatever.

"Don't worry." Nero quips back, cheerfully. "You also have an impressive piece, cousin. I'm sorry that the High Mage didn't understand to appreciate it more."

Edited 2021-08-16 06:07 (UTC)

What the fuck?

Estinien has had a lot of conversations with strangers in this place, from both sides of the bars. Never has anyone immediately started talking about their dick. Never have they immediately followed that up with talking about Estinien's dick.

He recoils very slightly, mostly just due to being caught off-guard. It's just not generally the sort of thing that would happen in Ishgardian society all that often, even in a particularly bawdy place like the Forgotten Knight.

"...So you're a degenerate, then."

Nero takes in that comment, carefully.

His expression becomes complicated. He grabs onto either side of the bars and pushes his face against the small opening. Honestly, he can't deny that he is a degenerate; there are things that he has done, however, that'd make degenerates upset that he's lumped in with them.

"Come on now, cousin." His words and voice are slightly distorted due to his face being smashed between two bars. "There's no reason to be that way. I've come to listen to your problems. I honestly don't know what's going on around here... so I'm hoping you'll be able to enlighten me some."

He smiles. "Pretty please?"

This is truthfully the first time Estinien has felt distinctively threatened by one of the guests, in so far as he can be threatened by someone on the other side of a set of iron bars. It's just strange behavior that causes his skin to prickle. It doesn't help that Estinien is a private person to begin with.

All the same, he doesn't really want to show that. He stares at Nero silently for a few moments, keeping his expression blank even as he feels his discomfort.

"...I would think it was obvious," he says, "what my problems are. I was summoned here and then imprisoned and starved for weeks on end." He narrows his eyes. "You'll have to be more specific."

"I see, I see."

His eyes close as he attempts to nod in agreement with his cousin. Of course, that's rather difficult with his face pressed between the bars. He pulls his head back as he reaches into his tunic.

"Makes sense that you're hungry... puts anyone in a bad mood." Nero carries on in a cheerful tone as he removes half a loaf of bread that he smuggled away from the buffet table. It is something that he intended to give to a prisoner anyway, so why not give it to his tall cousin?

He extends his hand through the bars, holding the piece of food out. "Why not have something to eat after that piss and you can maybe tell me if they've told you why you're locked up here, cousin."

Estinien reserves of pride have not been completely depleted at this juncture - so he at least hesitates to take this offering of food. Ultimately, though, he decides that denying him isn't really worth it. He dares to wander close enough to the bars to snatch the bread away from Nero, only to retreat back to the other side of the cell.

"Told me? Nay. Not besides vague allusions to being a threat to the nation. Twas by other means I discovered that the High Mage is in possession of a magical tome - one penned by his exiled predecessor. Supposedly, it speaks of our deeds and intentions, and he makes his selections based on those most likely to serve his cause."

He lifts his arms in a shrug.

"It was by that method I was determined inadequately pliant. Mayhap he disliked my history of dealing with despots."

Edited 2021-08-16 18:19 (UTC)

Nero turns his hand around as soon as the bread is taken. He curls his fingers in a light fist before jerking his thumb up into the air, giving his tall cousin one big thumbs up for accepting his post-piss snack.

His hands slide out from the bars as he mulls over what the elf is saying. He feels his face scrunch up in confusion as he points to the man then to himself; his eyes roll up to the ceiling as he seems to be doing some calculations in his head as to how he is free and his cousin is not.

Also, damn. Motherfucker, what year are you from? He can't remember when any of the elves talked like that, but hey. His ears wiggle a little in thought. Nero feels his expression souring before he asks a seemingly random question.

"Hey, how old are you?"

Best ask that before getting into everything else that was said.

Do you talk like that because women think elves are ethereal beings? Trying to hustle some prison girlies?

Nero thinks back just a second ago with the man calling him a degenerate. Nah, probably not then, huh? He might just be like this...

Edited 2021-08-16 19:04 (UTC)

Estinien watches Nero's expression, not certain what he seems so baffled by. Most likely some other realm-based confusion - transdimensional culture shock. Estinien has been around long enough that it no longer surprises him. He honestly expects that most people here come from different starts with different expectations.

"I could ask the same of you," he says, having already wondered about Nero's relative lack of heigh. He's either a different sort of elf, or an extremely rude child. "But fine. I am... thirty and some summers."

He says this in a way that implies he doesn't remember precisely how many years, or that he's lost track of when his birthday was. The last time someone asked him for his age they immediately used it to mock him, so he is already preparing himself.

"Shit. I'm older."

He holds his hand up as he has to accept that answer. His head tilting hard enough to the side that it is pressed slightly against the bars of the cell.

"Well over a hundred years old. But, I gotta say that once you hit fifty, you just stop giving a fuck about it." He lifts his head up. "You know... I haven't seen another elf for all that time and now I have run into two. It's nuts."

His arms open as he shrugs in a dramatic fashion, still leaning against the bars.

"Anyway, guess I take it that you are from an earlier time what with that sort of talk. Or you're hoping to attract some prison pretties?" Nero had thought that he wouldn't ask but now he feels like he will. "Ease some of the loneliness of captivity? Yes? No?"

He makes a gesture with his hand, attempting to indicate if he's hot or cold with his questions.

"Or steaming with rage and hoping to do some justice for yourself and all these wrongfully imprisoned fuckers?"

Estinien furrows his brow, looking generally displeased. It's not like he hasn't noticed that most of the people here speak differently than him, but this is the first time anyone has gotten in his grill about it. At the least, Estinien knows what he means by 'elf'. Alphinaud told him that was the word they used in the First.

Apparently, this man hasn't been here long enough to realize that you can't make assumptions based on how things work in your own world. Estinien shakes his head.

"More likely is that we're not from the same star at all," he says. "My kind rarely live to see three hundred... not least while having gained such little height."

He narrows his eyes. The part about 'prison pretties' isn't even worth acknowledging.

"But aye, 'cousin.' Were I free, I would visit justice upon the High Mage and the Royals both... and any of their 'guests' that would stand against me."

Again, his hands open in a gesture to indicate how baffling he finds what the man just said. He thinks that he is quite tall and towers over most humans, but he decides to let that point go.

"Well, my kind also rarely lives that long because people love to kill us." Nero doesn't sound that choked up about it, however. Such is life. So, he doesn't see much reason to get too upset about it. His own time will come and it will probably be a disappointing affair, but he has no complaints.

"I knew we would see eye to eye with one another." He smiles wide, loving to hear the murderous intent in such pretty of words. "Guess that means even if we are from a different star, we still desire the same things."

He twists his body around to hold his hand out through the bars. "Nero." Ah. He jerks his hand back so that he doesn't shake his hand. They yet aren't close enough to be hand-shaking with the same hand either one of them uses to shake their dicks after a whiz.

Estinien crosses his arms, not having been willing to shake Nero's hand anyway, given that he is clearly some kind of lunatic. As for the rest... well, it's hard for him to be upset about another guest apparently being on his side. More or less, anyway. But, this is far from the kind of behaviour that gives him much faith in the man's ability to aid him.

"So you are not among that number, then..." he says. He wonders what his motivation is.

"Estinien Wyrmblood."

"Fuck no."

He turns his head to the side, nearly smashing the side of his face against the bars in doing so.

Granted, if Nero hadn't known about the prisoners and got a chance to chat them up, he would be all for whatever insanity that Thornes had in mind. As it stands, he is much more interested in the insanity that these pent up, poorly treated people are going to unleash.

"Pleasure, tall cousin." Why did he ask his name if he is just gonna call him that? Eh. Who knows?

"Anyway, I am on your side." He doesn't even throw in a "for now," he likes what he hears and is all for it. The blood and screams will come pouring down the walls and he can't wait.

"Whatever you need, I will do what I can to get it for you."

"I see..." Estinien murmurs, but he does not seem convinced. The man hasn't exactly seemed stable to him thus far - is he really someone he wants on his side? Alternatively, can he really afford to say no?

"A bleeding heart for us prisoners, then? I can only wonder, what inspires such generosity? One of the guests has already been sentenced to death for treason, I might remind you."

If Estinien knew what Nero was thinking, he would be incredibly disquieted - but right now he's just too angry and too desperate to question his own violent impulses.

"I don't really seem like the type to be a bleeding heart."

Nero decides to dismiss the idea that he has some gracious and loving heart for the suffering. He wonders if Estinien would accept his help if he knew what his actual reasons were. His eyes close for a second as he mulls it over. Lying is utterly annoying and he hates to do it.

Sometimes, he just spouts off some obvious bullshit or white lies, but actively lying to cover up his real intentions is just a lot of unnecessary work.

"I don't care if I happen to die because I help you." His tone is genuine because those are his real feelings. He opens his eyes. "You don't need a bleeding heart to want to lend a hand to someone who wants it."

Estinien stares at him for a few moments long, keeping his arms crossed. Well... he really can't see what benefit there would be to lying about this. It's not as if Estinien hating his captors is secret information that needs to be wormed out of him.

He glances away from him for a moment, before turning to face him more directly.

"Fine. Then give us your help. I cannot find a way out of this place myself... but if you were able to, I would be grateful." He hesitates a moment longer and then adds. "I'm also looking for a girl named Relena. The guards took her from our cell some days ago, and she has not returned."

"I'll do what I can for you, tall cousin."

Honestly, who knew that he'd be attempting a jailbreak? Again, the people of Thorne really shouldn't have let him know about the prisoners. He might have been willing to play nice with them otherwise; he might have been willing to rain down as much death as they wanted from him.

Oh, well.

"Relena, huh? Is she your little sweetie?"

"She's a child," Estinien snaps, having little patience for that comment. "She was simply one of the people assigned to this cell, so I noticed when she was taken. Allegedly for a 'trial', though if that was the case, nothing has been heard of the royals' verdict."

His teeth grit, anger turning his gut, and not just because of Nero being a creep.

"She did nothing to deserve their punishment... she was arguing in favor of pacifism, even, not long before she was dragged away. If they have harmed her, they are little more than beasts."

Nero steps back away from the bars; he holds his hands up in surrender due to the tone of Estinen's voice. His head drops slightly in apology as he turns his expression to a somber one.

Touchy, touchy.

The elf can't help but feel his face scrunch up to offer an incredulous expression at the idea of some little girl arguing peace. Well, shit kids are always getting themselves into trouble. He does feel like the guards dragging some kid out is going a little overboard, however.

But then, again, so is locking away everyone who doesn't fit the bill. So, whatever.

"Aren't they already little more than beasts, cousin-dear?"

Edited 2021-08-17 02:23 (UTC)

Estinien pauses, even in his anger, casting Nero a more careful glance. What does he mean by that exactly? He raises an eyebrow at him.

"Is that your opinion of this kingdom? Or are you simply waxing poetic about the state of mankind? If it's the latter, I've little interest in semantics."

He's spent enough time pondering over the monstrosities of mankind already. It's nothing new, and he certainly doesn't think it's something that can be assigned to people without their deeds speaking for them.

Edited 2021-08-17 02:28 (UTC)

"The state of mankind?" He echoes the statement back. His face starts to scrunch up almost immediately at the man's comment. "I hope that you're not saying that you think of them less than us."

His expression darkens considerably. "Because it'd be real upsetting to me. I get to see two elves after a hundred years and one of them is already spouting the same fucking shit I heard in the clan all those years ago."

His tongue slips out from between his lips. Saliva drips down from the roof of his mouth and down his chin. Nero draws in his spit before turning his head to lop a thick loogie down on the ground. "So, why don't you tell me what you mean by arguing semantics with me, Estinien?"

Sweet Halone, this man really never ceases to be a nightmare. Estinien gives him an incredulous, and also disgusted, look. He has no idea what he's talking about and it shows.

"You don't consider yourself a part of mankind?" he replies, somewhat taken aback by how purely over the top this reaction seems. Like, what in the seven hells? "Elezen are a race of man as much as any other... or elves, as you put it. I was speaking of men proving their beastliness by the cruelty of their deeds - you're the one that suggested they were already subhuman."

He scowls a little, his confusion flipping right around to anger.

"Do you always begin to drool on yourself the moment you hear something that displeases you? I'd have had hoped that someone as old as you would have learned some self control."

Edited 2021-08-17 03:14 (UTC)

His anger settles down almost immediately. He takes in what Estinien says and feels all the tension fade out of his body. Taking a step back away from the bars, he completely drops all of his aggression. He barks out another laugh, but this one is much more jolly than the ones of before.

"Ah, what a misunderstanding." Nero takes a step back so that he can slap his hand over his forehead. He acts as though the two of them had just a simple miscommunication and not that he wanted to rend the other elf into multiple pieces.

"Most elves when they talk about 'mankind' are only talking about humans." He points to his face. "I don't think that way at all. We're all in this shitty world together and gonna suffer its cruelty one way or another. Doubling back... I'd say that some of the people of Thorne are, indeed, subhuman. They can justify and ignore the pain that they cause others while also denying any accountability."

It's probably troubling that he can admit that with an easy smile. But hey, that's his motto! If a person is going to make someone's life shit, they need to take responsibility for it.

"Still... drooling? I guess I never thought about it." He wipes his chin with the back of his hand. "I might? But anyway, age has little to do with self control. In fact, as you get older, you find more reasons to excuse the things that you do."

A beat.

"But don't worry. I don't excuse my drooling. That was my bad, cousin-dear."

iii/wild card

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