standvastig | Abraxas Inbox

[Wheat fields unfurl across relatively flat land, dotted with the occasional scarecrow or weather-reporting cow searching for patches of grass along the dirt roads. The golden crops sway gently in the breeze, while the sea breeze is funneled inland by mountains to power not-so-distant windmills.

It is quiet, all things considered. Idyllic. Burnished at the edges like a faded dream.

Hendrik breathes deep, still caught in the throes of meditation he no longer remembers committing himself to. His clothing has changed from the fine robes of a Thornean Summoned to a dark blue tunic and gray long-sleeved shirt, simple in design other than white triangular stitching along the hem in the style reminiscent of Heliodorian knights. His trousers and boots show the wear normal for a traveler, a wayfarer.

He opens his eyes, squinting for a moment against the sunlight before looking at the man across from him. He tips his head slightly to one side, expression blankly confused.]

Hello.

[The greeting passes with an awkward silence. Ten long seconds of secrecy and stillness, followed by the shifting eyes of a man doubting the sight before them. It obviously matters to his old friend that there is somebody visiting him in his dream.

Though he wonders whether that guest is human. His skin is pale as moonlight and his eyes an unnatural red. Hendrik had always liked the colour of his hair; now it attracts the eye because its ashen colour clashes against the golden fields of wheat. The dark energy streaming off his body is the most disconerting sight of all. His face darkens with a frown - a dispassionate expression that hides his curiosity.

Lips thin. Eyes narrow. Lips open and he begins talking.]

Greetings.

[He glances around the fields.]

Wonderful day is it not?

[The question distracts him away from focusing too hard on the man across from him, eyes wandering away to take in the waving wheat and a nearby scarecrow. He hums in thought before turning his attention to the strange man before him.]

It is very nice, yes.

[His brows knit together as he stares at this darkly-colored person with claret eyes for a long moment. There is a growing hesitation as he slowly climbs through levels of awareness, though it is tempered by a curious gleam in blue-green eyes.]

Are you a succubus?

[Jasper directs his gaze upon Hendrik. It takes a moment for him to realise what his old friend is asking - and he can barely protest how wrong he is. His tongue rolls around his mouth in confusion. Fingers stretch and clench - hiding his black nails within his palm - and his eyes narrow in intense focus.

He hardly knows if Hendrik is curious or content to play along with him. The simple word is a shock to his nerves and it takes a good while before he can respond.]

No? I dare say I am confused on why you mistake me as anything of the sort.

[Hendrik slowly nods as he accepts the answer, looking down at his hands as if trying to imagine something had once been there. But that did not make any sense, did it? After a moment, he tries to explain his rationale.]

I suppose I put together that I just woke up and you were there. And you do not look like any person I have seen before.

[So, obviously, that meant that he was a monster, right? And succubi were monsters related to sleep?

But... His eyes wander to a sign on the other's clothing that seems familiar. Despite its abstract appearance, the word 'Judgment' comes to mind.]

[Symbols that meant nothing now mean everything. Jasper hitches his thumbs against his belt. The emblem of his master, etched upon his buckle, is replaced by a meaningless symbol related to his place in this world. He nods slowly and watches his old friend - whose symbol serves as a reminder of his fate.]

I could say the same about you, friend. I have never witnessed such a strange man in all my life.

[Friend is hardly the correct word in this unique circumstance. He shakes his head - it sounds wrong but feels right. Unrecognised by his first and last friend? Though temporary, it is an uncomfortable thought.]

[The stylized skull that marks him with 'Death' is similarly etched onto his belt, plain as it is in comparison to the ensemble worn by the person in front of him.]

Am I strange?

[He seems surprised by the idea but not defensive, mulling over it for a moment before laughing. It is a quiet, breathless sound as his lips quirk upward into a smile.]

Ah, that is probably true. I do feel strange at the moment. Half asleep.

[Jasper straightens his spine and withstands Hendrik's humourous onslaught. His face remains calm and composed - lips closed and impassive - to the point his mood could be mistaken as cold. Not that it is easy to see emotions beneath his ghostly white skin.

It is the laughter that he finds surprising. Many a year has passed since he heard anything like it. His brows raise as though he doesn't know whether he should be laughing.]

Well, you are certainly awake now. Poor soul.

[Though he doesn't tilt his head to one side as he did before, Hendrik is obviously curious by this person's reaction and resulting words.]

Poor soul? Why do you say that?

[He looks around at their surroundings for a moment.]

You said it was a wonderful day a moment ago.

[... ... ...]

Unless you are a monster that intends to eat me. Then that would be a wonderful day for you and not so much for me.

[Is he a monster? That is what he resembles these days: a monstrosity with more in common with ghouls and ghosts than his countrymen. He turns over his hands and regards his black nails with cold detachment.]

You mistake my intentions, Hendrik. I despise eating my food without playing with it first.

[Okay. Maybe he can enjoy himself just a little.]

[Hendrik? He has to search within himself for a moment to acknowledge that the name is his own. So this person knows him.]

...Now I am confused. Are you sure you are not a succubus?

[The return to the question of his status is unwelcome. Eyes narrow as lips frown and curl. His impatience drives him to answer immediately.]

Very much so. Believe me, nobody except you suspects otherwise.

How odd. I thought the succubus was a monster that appeared fetching to humans.

[At least he recognizes irritation, which is something of a surprise considering he doesn't remember any past instances to which he can ascribe knowing of such things.]

Then you must need food from elsewhere.

[Inexplicably, the breeze carries with it the strong scent of bread fresh from the oven.]

[Jasper closes his eyes and inhales deep before exhaling a frustrated sigh. His lips press together, a sign he struggles to hold his words, but he makes a good attempt at keeping a lid on his temper.]

Obviously.

[It is stern agreement but nothing worse. He chooses to focus on more immediate matters.]

Your home is quite pleasant.

Edited 2022-03-16 17:19 (UTC)

[Hendrik watches the person in front of him for a long moment, considering his remarks at face value. But is this his home? He finds that he knows the golden fields and windmills in the distance, but cannot confidently claim them as his own.

And so he instead focuses on this person who remains standing in front of him without walking away.]

You seem irritated. Are you well?

[This spiritual plane is a strange place. Each world builds upon empty space: his labour to rebuild simple and unchallenging. He had refashioned his life and reframed his understanding of the world, finding himself on the outside of society more often than not. Isolation means he finds this world unpleasantly quiet and peaceful to the point of pointlessness.

But home is wherever you lay your head, right? Hendrik understands that and he shall not take peace away from the man. In the end, perhaps home is who you lay your head upon moreso than what.

His eyes narrow in focused thought.]

No. Why must you worry after me after all I have done?

[He blinks once at the question. After all he has done? He could probably ask after that, but it strikes him as unimportant right now. So he answers what seems like a simple question to him.]

Because there is nothing else demanding my attention? Because it is not normal to be irritated?

[Well, maybe succubi are usually irritated before they eat.]

[Hendrik enjoys a simple, peaceful state of mind. Freed of his memories, he looks peaceful and satisfied, living hand to mouth working the countryside. It was brought to his attention those memories are absent upon one's first visit to this curious place. But the experience of seeing their absence within his friend makes his eyes widen.

It tells him there is nothing ordinary about his anger. He remembers being at peace without his experiences informing his behaviour - yet he cannot appreciate their absence. His memories are important.

How they came to be fraught and destructive is beyond his grasp. He relaxes his shoulders - nerves still tense - and glances aside for a moment.]

You mistake my irritation. It lies not solely with you.

[It is with Carnelian - or the monster who had worn his skin. Another fact he cannot - refuses - to grasp.]

[The pale person looks off to the side, making Hendrik focus on those demonic eyes as they come to rest on him again. There's a distant feeling that he should probably be wary, but there are no personal memories to make him fear or feel threatened by this monster's presence.]

I presumed that you were probably hungry.

[But if it isn't that...? What can he possibly do?]

Is there anything I can do?

[Jasper closes his eyes, wishing he could voice his thoughts. By the time Hendrik awakens from this place he shall remember all that was said. Confessing he wishes to be remembered as a comrade and a friend - it would carry from this world to the next. He thins his lips and chooses not to beg.

Besides, this man killed their friendship. His ignorance of his plight is not easily forgotten nor forgiven.]

Not in this world.

[He opens his eyes and looks at his old acquitance.]

Though of course I wonder why a human wishes to help a monster like myself.

[Why does he want to help a monster? Humans and monsters do not necessarily get along. And yet...]

I cannot ignore what is right in front of me.

[The words flow out of him without any hesitation, and he affirms his resolve with a nod. There isn't an ounce of guile in his voice.]

You have not attacked me or harmed anything this entire time. Why should I not help you?

[It seems utterly simple yet he cannot accept this extended hand of friendship. There is no desire to mislead the man after manipulating him for years.]

You are not in possession of all the facts. I would not take advantage.

[Not when it means rising something as serious as building on their relationship.]

[Hendrik stares at the man in front of him for a long moment, brows knitting together in thought. One would think there is a hint to be gotten from everything that is being said.]

You could tell me. Otherwise why would you still be here with me?

[Indeed. Why would he? Jasper brushes his fringe, taking a moment to cast it aside as though ignoring his worries.]

What would you have me say, friend?

[Friends. There is warmth in that word.]

I should rather talk when you are in your right mind.

[Friend. Hendrik tilts his head, wondering about the warmth in the endearment and how it contrasts with ... everything about this situation right now.]

I suppose then it would make sense why you say "friend" and have not smiled this entire time.

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