[ good monday! on this fine monday morning, marina can find rondo out being a jock. by which i mean, he's hard at work swinging his sword! if she doesn't see him right away, well... she'll definitely hear him. ]
Haaah! Hraaaah!
[ he may in fact be the loudest man on the planet. hello ]
[ THIS MEME. also what the hell that's a dope sword rondo, what the fuck. she really was reading her little gothic romance novel when she starts hearing the grunts of a man in labor and goes to see what all the hub-bub is about. she keeps a safe distance away but meanders into view and waves! ]
Staying in shape for the inevitable horrors ahead of us?
anyhoo thankfully despite all the yelling, when he's addressed, he stops mid form, catching himself with a surprising amount of grace! and when he realizes, he beams at marina, pulling his sword down to stick it in its sheath and wiping his mouth. ]
Haha, not just for that, but that's a bonus, too! I'd never miss a day of my training. How are you, Miss Marina?
[ some of his ever bright energy does fade a little, but when she asks after the sword, he pulls it out so she can see it. it catches the light oddly - sometimes shining blue, sometimes pink. ]
This is Fisteralda... It's a holy relic of the Order of the Sacred Flame.
[ marina may examine it up close! and she can also see now if she comes a little closer that the ink splat on his chest forms words - Not being able to stop him. ]
[ haha wow this sure is the effect this week isn't it. she's watching the sword at first, taking a brief moment just a couple of steps away as though to gather herself before she gets in a little closer and peers at the sword, for a long moment pretending she doesn't see the words spread over his chest.
these have all been uncomfortable. about as uncomfortable as the word -scorched that creeps across her cheek, only partially hidden by her hair. ]
The Sacred Flame - what's that?
[ she'll... get to the words in a moment, let them have time to marinate with a little background. ]
[ rondo hasn't even noticed his own words - he's caught up in his own blade, too. she can look at it as much as she likes. the blade, fisteralda, is somewhere between holy and unholy, beautiful and terrible, and rondo's hand is curled tight, tight around the hilt, though he smiles a little more gently when marina asks. ]
... It is a gift that was brought down to Orsterra by the gods above, to bring warmth and light to the continent and protect those who live upon it. The Knights Ardante are those who swear to follow its guidance, and bring light and warmth into the world as they follow its path.
[ as he looks back up, he catches marina's words - confusion flickers across his face, openly, but he is polite enough not to say anything... ]
I've never heard of such a thing, but... it sounds like an incredible gift from the gods.
[ in comparison to everything marina has ever read, ever experienced, it sounds like an incredible breath of fresh air. she doesn't know what to say more than that as she takes it in. there's barely anything comparable to it... it puzzles her.
she won't touch it of course, that's his blade, but she does trace the line of it in the air, like committing the image to her memory. ]
It's very beautiful.
[ hesitation as she sees that confusion in a brief flash, and then glances towards his chest. ]
This place is playing some kind of stupid trick on us isn't it.
[ she can touch it if she likes! rondo doesn't seem to mind. when she traces the air, he nudges it up a little bit, if she wants to touch the actual blade itself, though she'll notice that he leans it slightly more towards the blue side.
though... when she hesitates, he nods, biting his lip. ]
...um... yes, it seems like it... I'm sorry. I can pretend I didn't see it?
[ oh! well... if he is inviting her to touch, she will. she is very careful, though does note that she's guided towards the blue side and gives the sword an even more curious look.
when he speaks, she just gives him a little smile. she looks a little at not being able to stop him and her expression softens. ]
I mean, it isn't going anywhere soon, if it is what I think it is, so.
[ a little wearly laugh. ]
How about we... trade?
Edited (i had an extra enter space /dies) 2024-06-14 03:45 (UTC)
marina is just out here by the pyre with her book against her chest and just kind of loosely hugging a knee with one arm. she has a sigil drawn in the ground by her that she keeps another hand on, like she's willing something, anything to come back, but she smears it quickly when she hears footsteps.
she should have figured, the fire is both comforting and eerie to her, just warm enough to keep her remaining here. ]
the pyre is where rondo wants to be, too. he's run around since the reveal was made clear, but he constantly finds himself back here, his gaze constantly drawn back to the bright blue flames. it's not... it isn't the sacred flame, but staring at it makes him feel better. it feels like he could reach out and hold it in his hands, like a reminder of strength in adversity, in pain. so.
when he spots someone else here, rondo looks at her - and then speeds up to walk a little closer, dropping into his usual bowed greeting. he's not nearly as energetic as usual, but that's probably to be expected. ]
Miss Marina. [ in greeting, quietly, and then, genuine and concerned: ] Are you alright...?
she sees rondo coming so she doesn't startle or anything, rather, she sits up a little straighter, sitting tailor fashion now. he bows and she gives a little pinch of her skirt to faux curtsy despite sitting. she just pats a place beside her like come on. sit sit. ]
Oh... yeah, I'm okay. All's ship shape here.
[ the posture says otherwise, but you know. it's the truth. ]
Refectory was a huge mess when Pickles, Gale and I got there, but... it's gone now. The mess... Are you okay, though? Didn't get hurt yourself, did you?
[ he will come to sit when invited, spreading out his cloak so he doesn't sit on it. marina can see as he approaches that the ink shadows of the week have multiplied, on him, stretching out in places across his pure, white uniform, like a tapestry. not being strong enough to protect the people you care for. not being strong enough to protect the people you care for. not being strong enough to protect the people you care for. not being strong enough to protect the people you care for
we are SO ship shape here. ]
...I'm alright. [ in a manner of speaking, at least. ] You all saw something...?
[ oh rondo... yeah we are super ship shape here. when he finally sits he can see that she just has a thick line of revolving words just sort of serpentine sliding themselves slowly around her neck, her wrists and fingers. TERMINA IS UPON US, the words repeating over and over again like a mantra or a prayer or a warning, or maybe all of them.
still. she scoots closer anyways, looking at those words with a very quiet acknowledgement. ]
We are alive... so there's that... huh.
[ she then nods. ]
The place was a mess - we found foot steps leading out of it towards the theatre. Blood and wine in some places. Gale even found some weird blue substances, and Pickles found some broken glass in the cellar. I think it must be a real mess down there.
[ ah. well. he knows what that is, so that's! Bad. that's bad. poor marina. he frowns at the words a little further, and... unconsciously scoots closer to press his shoulder to hers, gently. if she'll allow the contact, at least. ]
... Some kind of a fight...?
[ what... ]
I... they couldn't have harmed each other, could they...? But why...
[ she stiffens, but in the animal way people do when they aren't touched very often. still, she leans a little into it, offers a gentle hand on his arm if he lets her. she reads those words over and over again and just squeezes a little bit. ]
I think so - refectory to the theatre... where they found Aventurine's body, apparently.
[ her voice goes soft: ]
And... I don't know. I felt like Death has been very helpful to us - they... he... helped Daan procure some medical supplies, and even took a bit of interest in some issues back home...
Of course. You can consider any secret safe with me.
[ nodding...! it's earnest and honest, and he means it with his whole chest.
with that, though, he agrees - he lets her take his hand once he sheathes his sword! and they can go sit down.
rondo's quiet, for a long moment. he did volunteer to share first - he puts his hand very gently over the ink spot, like he could feel out the words even as they disappear and reappear through his gloves. not being able to stop him. ]
...My world is in grave danger. [ is how he starts, finally. there's a weight to rondo that's not usually there when he speaks, something more tired and solemn, something - something sad. ] There is someone who seeks to wipe all of humanity from the face of Orsterra. According to him, we don't deserve to live because there is no good in humanity - that even when there is good, it is only temporary. He says that the desires of human beings are too powerful for them to ever overcome, and he wants to recreate the world as one without desires.
[ he absolutely will let her! rondo is a very touchy guy so she can rest her hand on his arm. he's very warm.
... ]
Maybe. [ ugh. ] ... I liked Death a lot. They were - they had so many helpful things to say, even if they were a little prickly about it. I... I just wish there was something we could do.
but she just nods quietly in agreement with this. ]
He took an interest in a few things from where Daan and I are from. And he was pretty helpful when it came to asking him about this creature that the ritual put inside us. He told me quite a lot about mine and I... well.
It was helpful in any case.
... maybe they were considered "too helpful."
[ like this was a punishment. cutting off a finger. a hand. a warning. ]
that - that's such an awful thing to think about, that maybe it was that he was too helpful. rondo thinks about the newly revealed profile, the line about a younger sister he barely remembered, and his heart aches.
there's a long, long quiet, before he says: ]
.... We have to find a way out of this. We cannot let his death be in vain.
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