XOqNI

[tongueamok]

Hello, this is Carlisle. I mean, it's not Carlisle as in I'm actually answering you right now, so if you're trying to reply to me at the second, you should probably save your breath because I'm not really here. This is some kind of a recording of my voice, but this is my communicator. I'm going to assume these devices are as common here as they are in other places — not my world, but others, ones more technologically advanced than where I come from— so if you'd like to leave me a message, then you may do so here, or er... Right. Here is fine. So just leave yo— [beep]

Comments

[puzzlingly]

「Woah, well that is so not his fault, really. Talk to you friends, Carlisle... He could have thought that someone at least would let him know and be aware of how his privacy had been breached.

This is very much like what happened with Michael, isn't it? Atem trying to fix things, just as he's used to. He would have thought he had learned by now.

Instead of answering immediately, the young man looks away, giving the very angry priest a moment to compose himself.」

Is it a lie?

[tongueamok]

It's none of your business!

[He says that, but given Atem is his student, is kind of is, at least in a way. Carlisle is too furious to see that at the second, to think of anything else about what it is others think they know about him. He's been dealing with it his entire life -- being watched, being judged, being thought of something less than what he is. It's all taken its toll on him down the line, embroiling him in the bitterness that will no doubt fuel the Revenant he leaves behind.

He can't have that, he thinks, his hand tightening against him -- it's on his abdomen now, on those old wounds. He can't have that or think about that or even consider that at the moment because he doesn't have enough time left and now there's ink on the floor again what a fantastic job he's done miserable failure of a Longinmouth who would never amount to anything but the downfall of his family both literally and figuratively—

He tries to clear his throat, but more ink comes up.]

I didn't ask for this. I didn't ask for any of this. I didn't ask for her help, or your accusations, or this damnable curse.

[puzzlingly]

「It's so fortunate that by the time Carlisle met Atem, he no longer was wearing the Millennium Eye, but he doesn't have to be able to see his thoughts to see his very obvious pain and frustration — things that in all honesty are making the young man want to get out of there as soon as possible, it's obvious he's making things worse. For as confident as Atem might look, he's not, he's afraid Carlisle will shut him out, but he has to try. This is not about him, this is about Carlisle and something terrible that's happening to him.

But more ink comes out and Atem cannot keep just being there doing nothing. He stands and approaches back to him again, offering a clean rag.」

I know you didn't. I'm not your enemy, Carlisle, please.

[tongueamok]

[While one hand remains on his abdomen, he brings the other up to keep Atem from him, his whole frame trembling, his legs threatening to buckle as he takes a step back.]

Don't touch me. And don't speak about my goddess in such a way. Don't speak about me in such a way.

[He grits his teeth on the emphasis, ink continuing to drip through them like venom.]

[puzzlingly]

I... wasn't gonna.

「It is him who just gets away again, but not too far, opting to stand somehow near him anyway, just in case because he looks absolutely awful. What would Yugi do? He'd apologize and try to help him anyway, but Yugi is not there. He does not apologize for what he said, because he meant it, besides, going back to the topic would probably make it worse. He simply cannot warp his head around how anyone would put their faith on something that has given their back at them.

He should leave, but he cannot leave Carlisle like that, what if he just, dies right there? Who should he call? Rey, maybe? Could be.」

[tongueamok]

[Carlisle takes a moment to recompose himself, cycle a few breaths through him to soothe his riled energies. He sets one hand along the wall to steady himself; with the other, he drags that ink-stained bandage on his arm across his mouth, trying to get most of the black residue trailing from him. He's met with only marginal success, as usual.

He finds his voice a few seconds later; it's quieter, as shaky as the rest of him, far more graveled than before from the pain in his throat.]

Tell me what you know, Atem.

[That's not a question, nor a polite request.]

[puzzlingly]

「The time that Carlisle gets to compose himself, Atem cannot help but go to these places again, what good is he here for? He cannot really help anyone, not even himself. He keeps trying with terrible results.

Will he stop though?

Probably no. He'd feel even worse not to care at all.」

Your soul is bleeding out.

「That's basically it, wasn't it?」

[tongueamok]

[Was that a heavy sigh that just escaped Carlisle, or is he struggling to breath? Probably a little of both.]

Is that what she said.

[Again, not a question.]

[puzzlingly]

Yeah.

「It's obvious who they are talking about, right?

No, not Kate.」

[tongueamok]

I see.

[He paws at his eye; there's ink there, too. He doesn't clarify who he is talking about, but he has no reason to suspect Atem would have learned such things from anyone else but Kate. His friendship with her is as turbulent as ever in these final months.]

That is accurate.

[puzzlingly]

「Who said it has no real importance anymore, does it?

Despite the distance Atem keeps between them, he cannot take his eyes away from his mentor, still unsure what to do; this is not like him, he's always thinking ahead, trying to predict people's moves, get a solution to everything his uncertainty can be seen just as the fear in his eyes, fear for Carlisle only. But given the priest's state, no one can expect him to be mindful of that at all, Atem of all people hopes how useless he truly is doesn't show.

What can he do? He doesn't dare asking, he knows the answer.」

Should I call anyone?

「It's clear he shouldn't be alone in a moment like this.」

[tongueamok]

There is nothing they can do any more than you.

[At least when it comes to his condition. Either way, he would agree: he shouldn't be alone, as much as he'd like it. He reaches toward Atem, palm up -- he's looking for that rag after all. Finding discomfort in the silence, he continues.]

She is aloof. Not cruel, not merciless, but dreaming.

[puzzlingly]

「Atem handles him the rag.」

... Who?

「Okei.」

[tongueamok]

My goddess, the Camisou.

[It's in those times where he's struggling to get a grip on himself -- on reality, on what lies behind him and what has yet to be seen -- that Carlisle turns back to what he does know: his faith. He tilts his head up, his face visible to Atem now as he glances toward his little shrine on the far wall; one of his eyes is black with ink, a trail of it streaming down his cheek. It coats one side of his glasses, caught under the edge.]

[puzzlingly]

「Oh--

Atem keeps a tense silence from his part, a pale rose coloring his cheeks out of embarrassment. He barely glances towards the shrine before his attention is back to the priest.」

What does she want from you?

「He finally gathers the courage to ask.」

[tongueamok]

She doesn't want anything in particular, save for to be left to rest. We clergy in service of the Clarity try to guide others in her name, lest they find themselves removed from the cycle.

[Needless to say, the deities of his world are a little... unusual.]

[puzzlingly]

... 「Yeah he doesn't get that.」 Then what is her purpose?

「It is not an accusatory remark more than a real question, what does she represent?」

[tongueamok]

She is a goddess. Does she truly need one? And if so, who would define it for her?

[Who is your boss when you're divine?]

[puzzlingly]

「A goddess of what? It's so confusing to him.」

Well... Gods, they protect their followers, they watch after their wellbeing and they provide them with what they need. Either faith, a promise to a better life, for some, even material things. They create. And in return, people believe in them and worship them. They put their lives in their hands.

[tongueamok]

[His world is like that, in a lot of ways.]

My goddess did create. She is the maker of my world. She alone is able to return us to the cycle and give life anew. Without her or the Domu, we are lost.

[puzzlingly]

「The creator god, goddess in this case. Was that so hard to say?」

The Domu?

[tongueamok]

Another deity, the one who collects us upon death, should he see fit. The two have a symbiotic relationship... of sorts.

[He drags his bandaged arm along his face again, straightening up, finally removing his hand from the wall. He's standing well enough on his own now.]

He flew into her great maw to steal her tongue, but found himself ensnared. He now collects souls to return them to the cycle, lest she devour him completely.

[Or so they say. There are a lot of stories and reasons passed down as to why they work together, but that one is the one that his order teaches, and the one that makes the most sense to him.]

[puzzlingly]

「Atem nods at that, sounds a little more familiar that way.」

Will she not help you?

[tongueamok]

That... is complicated.

[He shakily makes his way back to his chair, sliding into it. His tea is cold by now.]

I used to believe that she might take pity upon me, and allow me to return to the cycle despite my affliction. I now know that the problem isn't that my very essence is tainted, but that even if it wasn't, there is not enough of me left to return at all. It is a true conundrum with no real solution.

[puzzlingly]

「For once, Atem keeps his mouth shut, given his earlier reaction, he doesn't want to risk it.」 

Are you sure about that?

「Might as well gauge the situation, that's not at all what Ravine told him. Not everything was lost.」