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...yes. Alright.

[It's those little orders that gets Sinclair moving. Message Oria. Tell him he's heading back (and why did he think Oria would be in here to begin with?). He moves a little with sluggish steps, expression blank but expectant as he follows Michel out. It's easier to just do as he told right now.

Especially since he can't stop crying]

[ That's... progress, of a sort. Michel shuffles along at his side, shepherding Emil out, tensely averting his eyes from the reflections. His hand hovers just over Emil's shoulder to guide him.

What in god's name came next? He's hardly the comforting sort of person who could reassure with words. Hugs? Even worse. But even if Emil isn't aware enough to mind now, how much would it bother him later if someone else saw him crying? Michel pauses close to the exit to turn to him awkwardly. ]

Which guild did you have a room at?

Um. Moon Tree. Zelkova's guild.

[ His breathing is a little less ragged now, eyes firmly trained on the ground as Michel leads them out.

His chest hurts, his head pounding. All he wants to do is run away...but to where? Offline?

Rodya would be sympathetic but she didn't know about his family either.

And then there were the lingering remnants of Michel's memories in his head, the casual cruelty of that girl bleeding into Kromer's laughter. He feels sick, his stomach turning.]

Moon Tree.

[ Michel pauses as he thinks it over. Zelkova... there could be worse witnesses. But he wouldn't feel comfortable leaving Vogel in his care, either. No — is there a single guild leader he could say that of?

More than a little uncertain, the gesture awkward, he reaches up to help scrub tears from Vogel's cheek with one sleeve. ]

Is it quiet there? If you need more space, we can find a dungeon.

[ Anything should do. At the level cap as they are, Michel doesn't doubt he could keep any monsters off of Vogel if he needs room to think. ]

Sort of...

[His steps come to a sudden slow halt. He doesn't really want to go back to the guild, as friendly as Zelkova is. He's frustrated in a way he hasn't been in a long time. He blinks a little, finally coming a bit more back to awareness when Michel tries drying his face. He mumbles something and dries the rest of his face roughly. That's a little embarrassing]

...a dungeon...might be good.

[He wants to break some things]

[ Michel stops, pulling his hands back with just a bit of an awkward fumble. He would ordinarily tuck them into his pockets, or sleeves would do as a last resort... there's nothing on his armor to make it easy to hide the gesture now.

Just one more way that creating an alternate persona in this game hadn't changed the core problem at the root of all of them. ]

This way, then.

[ He'll just shuffle Vogel to the Chaos Gate expeditiously. No need to think hard about where they're going. Anything will do. ]

[Sinclair would have begun biting at his nails now. Or clawing at his arms. It's a good thing all he can do right now is wrap his arms around himself and follow Michel to the Chaos Gate. He should say something to make it less awkward.

...

He doesn't know what to say.

Softly]

...sorry.

[Yep. That's all he has. Generating some key words then

Deleting.

Going back to the first dungeon they ran: Hidden Advice Night Moon.]

Edited 2023-08-20 08:57 (UTC)

[ Ah. He hasn't run so many dungeons that he has any trouble remembering past ones. Known hazards might be a clever choice, considering the circumstances...

Maybe if Michel were more adept with words he could have already filled the silence so Vogel doesn't feel the need to keep saying "sorry". He reaches over to bop him very, very gently on his fluffy hair. ]

What do you think you have to apologize for?

[ Into the dungeon they go. Talking here, with only monsters to overhear. ]

Ow.

[ Sinclair startles a little, rubbing the top of his head. Looking up at Michel with wide eyes. That's rude.]

That...you had to see 'that'. [ And now that the worst of his anxiety has cleared...

Ah.

Michel has been through a lot too, hasn't he?]

And...

[ Michel raises an eyebrow a little, trying not to look guiltily over at his hand. He didn't bop him that hard, did he?

But, no. Just for that proclamation, he'll pat the top of his head again. Maybe he can condition Vogel by doing this every time he says something ridiculous. ]

No. I'm the one who should tell you that I'm sorry. I saw something so personal and so painful, and I didn't look away. [ Couldn't look away. ] But I don't intend to pretend I didn't see it now.

[Ow. He didn't do anything this time?? But he nods, looking down]

People were talking about it for a very long time. [So in a way, Michel isn't even the first to see that day, raw and bloodied and anguished.

Sinclair shakes his head too, biting his lip]

No, I do need to say that. Because I saw one of your memories too.

[He wraps his arms around himself, squeezing tightly]

[ Having already come this far, it had crossed his mind that he could look up the rest of the information later. A full real name and a clear incident was enough to go on. Whether it would be a further violation to do that...

The thought is deferred for another time when Vogel says those words. Winter freezes, tilting his head slightly in defiance of the jolt of panic that shoots through him. ]

...What memory?

[ Most of his were unremarkable. Year after year in that silent, dark house. Safe. Let it be one of those... ]

[Ah. This is going to hurt Winter too, isn't it? But he has to tell the truth now]

...you were being tortured by a horrible girl. [Frowning, as he tilts his head, considering his next few words.]

She was disgusting. She hurt you. [And a clear, unhappy realisation] Your family let her hurt you.

[ Each word is like a knife, one after another, lodging between his ribs and stealing his breath. Michel tilts his chin up and folds his arms around himself slowly. His fingers dig in with force until he pauses; the AFK pose is for more than just thought, as he adjusts his settings.

It isn't Vogel's fault. He's being honest, earnest. And still when Michel wonders what he might have seen, he feels sick. He waits long enough to be certain his voice is even before he speaks. ]

They... didn't know. [ Vogel is sharp. He can read between the lines, but— ] It was long ago.

[This is what it's like to hurt someone else.

Sinclair hates it. He bows his head, shuffling forward a little to lightly place a hand on Michel's arm]

...it was still wrong. You shouldn't have had to put up with that. With her...

[Frowning]

---your real name is Michel isn't it?

[There's a clear American emphasis on that name, in no way remotely similar to Michelle]

[ If it were someone else, it's very likely he would have jerked back. At least involuntarily. Vogel is, perhaps, the least threatening person he knows. ]

...It was. It was a nightmare, and it was wrong.

[ He should probably say something softening to that. But it is what it is. His expression eases very slightly at the question, and he nods. ]

Mm. Yours is Emil?

Mm. Emil Sinclair.

[A small nod. Michel is welcome to look him up if he wants. There's a lot to find there. His brow furrows a little, as he tries to find the words. He can put the pieces together. Michel was Michelle, which implied a lot of things. He's not sure if Michel wants to talk about it, if he can even talk about it anymore than Sinclair can talk about his problems.]

[ Michel stares back at him in equal awkwardness, pondering where to start. What a pair they make...

He doesn't want to linger on that memory. Vogel likely doesn't want to think about his, either. But none of that will change their pasts in the slightest. ]

Do you want me to call you that? Or "Vogel"?

[ Start small, easy questions. Names matter. ]

Mm...it's fine to call me that in front of Oriade. Or Mithrun. But around other people, I prefer 'Vogel'.

[Shuffling awkwardly as they are approached by deadly presents]

They know who you are?

[ Ah, trivial monsters. Michel gives them a distracted glance and draws his sword. His heart really isn't in his attack, but perhaps they'll find it easier to talk while they're occupied with something easy. ]

Yes. Our families met at some point in real life--and they recognized me.

[Sinclair's aggressive reaction to one of the presents is probably a surprise. He stabs one with particular viciousness]

[ That's... definitely surprising, yes. Michel pauses to stare, almost long enough to let another present hop(?) at Vogel from the side. But he rallies quickly to slash at it, more of his attention on Vogel now.

So. That's one piece of evidence towards this not being something they can continue not talking about. ]

Before what happened to your family.

Yeah.

[Ah. Switching the conversation back to him now. He stabs another present violently]

Oriade and I are around the same age, so that was natural. But the last time Mithrun saw me must have been when I was...5?

[ And it's going to stay on Vogel (probably) since Michel is dealing... well. Or at least, with exactly appropriate force in his stabbing present monsters. The combo flow of regular attack into Cross Slash into Sword Flash does feel cathartically satisfying. ]

He mentioned being a friend of yours... Mithrun, that is.

[ It's good, that Vogel isn't alone here. ]

Mm. We are. [Friends. It makes him happy to hear that, enough that the next present meets a more dignified end.] He understands...a lot, I think.

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