presidentheartbeat: (God I wanna fucking murder you)
The beginning of spring has always brought with it a surge of life to the manor, with the flowing greenery and blooming of flowers in the gardens, the return of any staff members who needed relocating through the winter, the sudden influx of reports from every corner of the land stacked into neat papers for Zelos to organize and go through.

It's all so boring, though. Zelos leans way back on his seat, holding some random documents in his hands, lazily scanning the pages one by one. Blah blah this, blah blah that. Taxes, trade caravans, territory disputes, bandits, yadda yadda, same old bullshit, same old problems--and that's without counting any of the other requests from the peasantry accumulated since the last stack. He frowns, sighs. Bounces his leg. This is nothing new or too difficult, but definitely stuff that will take a huge chunk of the day just going through. So even with the sun at its peak and the day warmer than it's been in months, already that's a beautiful day gone to waste.

Good grief.

...And alas.

Zelos sets down the stack of papers and gets up from his seat, leaving his desk to look out the windows behind him instead. Greenery, blue skies, singing birds; already so much better than last week. Spring is here, and two things always follow the first rays of sunlight over the land. The first is more and more work as he grows older, more responsibilities stacking over on his shoulders as he continues to adjust to the title of "lord of the land". Zelos groans, stretches his arms over his head. Pops his shoulder. Keeping track of who wants what and where is always such a hassle.

He bites the inside of his cheek. Keeping track of anything is always such a hassle. Zelos never even wanted this in the first place, anyway, but things sure change quickly within barely a few years when everyone is in a panic after their previous lady dies.

Whatever.

Zelos reaches over and opens a window, sticking his head outside and looking at the main road, squinting. The breeze feels good. Staring out the window isn't productive, Zelos knows, but it's not like he can be assed to go back to the boring stack of papers on the desk any time soon when there's already something else in his mind. Because the second thing that happens, every time without fail when spring arrives, is the return of most of his younger knights from the academy next town over. And among them, there's always--

Hm, okay. Zelos bites his lower lip, then abruptly gets back inside and closes the window, rounding the desk to walk over to the door. The stack of papers remains discarded and unattended to on the desk. But Zelos is distracted, and there's no way he can get any work done like that, can he? He should do everything in his power to clear his mind. Maybe he could take a walk outside, then, subtly sticking to the front garden to keep an eye out for any carriages and marches. Just in case.

After all, it's spring. Lloyd could be returning any time now.
presidentheartbeat: (Oh my fucking god Becky shut the fuck up)
[There's probably something to be said about having 'oh, hell, I really should've brought a change of clothes, huh?' be Zelos' first thought after being stabbed and stumbling as far away from the current town their traveling party's staying at, but whatever it is it currently eludes his mind at the moment. Because he's much too busy holding onto his wound, trying to will himself to put one foot after the other, trudging through grass and dirt until he's deep into some woods he can't recognize, bathed only in the moon's light as it cuts through the foliage and the night.

Somehow, despite the pain that comes with the action and the wince that nearly causes him to lose balance, Zelos still finds it in himself to laugh. Well, this sure went south, didn't it? He's pretty damn lucky nobody saw him sneak out, much less get fucking jumped at by a bunch of randos with an agenda against him.

The problem is, though, that now he's dangerously low on mana and pretty sure that he's going to die if he doesn't get some medical help. And, considering everything else he still has left to do, he kind of just can't let that happen. He needs himself alive--at least for now, thank you very much. So it's either go back and get people asking questions that are better off unanswered, getting help elsewhere and risking another trap, or dying in the woods. Honestly, none of them appealing.

Except for one last, desperate measure that tastes sour like weakness and feels heavy like failure, yet is also his one ticket to, you know, living.

Zelos grits his teeth.

Fine, fine, whatever. Fuck. Aimless, in pain, and already feeling the delirious numbness of blood loss, Zelos stumbles until his outstretched free hand has found a tree in these woods, then leans against it and fishes in his pocket for the little device a certain asshole seraph gave him. Numb fingers fiddle with it until he's entered the number he wants, and he breathes a sigh of relief the moment it finally starts to make a connection. He waits, waits, waits and waits until the little screen comes to life, and then--]


"Yooo, hey there," [Zelos grins, already sliding down the tree trunk until he's sitting on the grass, breathing heavily.] "You, uh, got a sec?"
presidentheartbeat: (Default)
[There's a garden behind Meltokio's castle that's big enough to get lost in, covered in flowers and weirdly shaped hedges and even an entire section shaped like a maze. It's the perfect spot to get lost in after a particularly tough day dealing with whatever political fall-out there is to take care of after everything that's happened, and even nicer for a quick break when everything else, even just the company of friends and family, gets too overwhelming for Zelos.

Granted, it's a little strange and slightly nerve-wrecking for Zelos to be out here on his own, given his status as one of the only two Aegises left in this world, artificial or not, but he figures that he'll be fine. Anyone who cares will know where to find him, anyway, and it's not like he can't defend himself, either. Besides, it's just a quick walk through the silent, empty garden. It's fine. So he walks through the garden and makes it over to a private little section with a fountain and a kiosk, making a beeline over to a rose bush.

He delicately takes one of the flowers between his hands and stares, awed, at a plant he'd never actually gotten the chance to see growing naturally like this--he'd only known what they looked like in vases and fake bouquets, never really in a pristine, beautiful garden surrounded by greenery and life. Much less in the wild. The sight of it is mesmerizing. And then Zelos wonders what it feels like, so he takes off one of his gloves, exposing the glowing, orange ether lines on his arms and palm, and runs a thumb over the surface of the petals.

So entranced is he by the roses that Zelos doesn't notice anything else amiss in the garden, or in the air, nor does he hear the approach of someone else into the scene.]
presidentheartbeat: (Bitch?)
[The wildly flashing lights of the space-time tunnel propelling him forward as the Sylvaranti Aegis' signal retreats back to its point of origin are nauseating. He clings to the signal and squints his eyes against the light show, core crystal flickering, form wavering as his ether is pulled at from every direction as he goes. It hurts, but he grits his teeth and keeps his focus forward, trying hard to remain intact lest he finds himself stranded once more.

Every particle that makes up each universe he traverses is like a wall he crashes through as he momentarily enters each world, every time he does so leaving him gasping like he's breaking the surface of concentrated miasma. The glowing, orange wings on his back ripple like a water surface. Traveling through the multiverse in a single, dedicated tunnel like this is exhausting, but he holds onto the signal and pushes himself through with strong flaps of his wings, aiding it in his journey, begging for his physical form to hold.

He focuses on the way he still feels the sprinkles of mana left behind in his system from when he and his driver connected.

Feels the dark matter of another universe pooling against his eyes as he arrives and leaves.

And then, suddenly, there's ether greeting him like air. Something familiar, something fresh. Something like... home.

Zelos involuntarily lets go of the signal and opens his eyes.

It pulls itself all the way back to the planet without him. Zelos is left floating in space, close enough to Derris-Kharlan for its gravitational pull to force him forward until he's standing on the glass-like surface of the moon. He blinks, startled. Derris-Kharlan is still resting near Aselia, empty and devoid of life--and that's what startles him the most. For a moment he kind of expects to see the teal glow of the network, or to feel the Architect's overwhelming presence wearing a familiar face, but he doesn't. Then he kind of expects to see his last driver still standing by a terminal, scowling and asking Zelos just what the hell he's doing here when he'd literally just sent him home, but that doesn't come either. He's alone, here, except for the morse code-like signal tapping at his forehead, begging for him to pick it up again, aching to connect soon.

He takes a deep breath. There's still leftover pain from the journey here, but it's easy enough to ignore. There's more pressing matters at the moment, anyway. Like how Derris-Kharlan is too empty to be comfortable, echoing network or not. It makes Zelos remember, abruptly and sourly, the fate of the man he'd called god in this universe, how he and the one he'd called his last driver share a past, but now have different futures. It should bring some sort of joy to him, but instead all it does it fill him with worry and anxiety at the prospect of meeting the one last piece in this weird trifecta of iterations and mirrors.

Zelos clenches his hands into fists. Breathes in, breathes out. Straightens his posture. Clears his throat. He has people to see, people waiting for him. He tries not to think too hard on the emptiness the lack of a resonance brings, tries to look forward to meeting his driver again, his sister.

To meeting with--

He walks forward, over to where he remembers the teleporter to be. It's time to go home.]

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Zelos Wilder

November 2019

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