[Lovecraft is trudging along the corridors, winding and waxing, and doing his best to ignore the rumors. All this undue attention is making him itch, so he's beelined to somewhere quieter, which would be...well, where the graves are.]
[He's just curled up in front of his one like a black cat in a makeshift bed, only opening up a weary eye when he hears Solomon come closer.]
It seems our dear and gracious Father wants us to get to know each other, for better or worse. Silly is an understatement.
[But refusal meant annulment, and annulment.... well, they all felt exactly what that meant with Don. It twists Solomon's chest a little to think of the same being done with such a timid, depressed man.]
I'll take it you haven't bothered to start it with someone yet?
[Hello! Doesn't this look like the most trustworthy man to have ever walked the planet?
His smile does touch his eyes briefly at the acknowledgement. Hi, buddy.]
I've done parts of it, yes. [We, uh, are NOT going to talk about his escapades so far. It's fine.] And I wouldn't say it's hard. Unusual, perhaps. Uncomfortable at times, yes. And it might take some trust. But it doesn't need to be complicated.
Obtaining the flower itself is the hardest step. The rest just requires your time.
[oooooooooookay well now that the stars are kind of dancing around his vision, he looks a tiny bit dazed and a little colored in the face, but at least he's collecting himself, holding obediently still. The bud sits against white locks in a brilliantly deep shade of warm blue contrasting the brassy warmth of his eyes when they finally look back towards Lovecraft.]
There we are. That's the hard part, I promise.
[And once again, he holds out his palm for Lovecraft's hand.]
N-no, no. Not at all, actually. It's just a little startling.
[Even though he's expected as much, it's still a little embarrassing to admit out loud. But he clears his throat, keeping Lovecraft's hand in his own as he carefully starts rising to his feet.]
Here. Come with me. I think I remember seeing something about you enjoying sweets, correct?
I figured we could start there. Our task requires intimacy, and intimacy comes in all sorts.
Keep hold of my hand for now. I'd just like to start by taking you to find something I know you like. Maybe we'll learn something about one another, you and I.
[This is why he offered to do that part, buddy, he's not sure if it'd fry your brain or not and he doesn't wanna do that to you.
Lovecraft's clammy hand firmly in his own, he'll guide them back out of the courtyard. Time to descend to the cafe.]
Oh, I don't.
But isn't that the fun in getting to know someone? Something unknown turning into something known, and becoming something to share. It's like giving a small piece of yourself to another.
He expects at least one to kill. And He expects everyone to follow his tasks, or he'll consider it a break of his engagement... which, I expect, will lead exactly to what happened with Don. If we completely refuse to kill, I'm unfortunately expecting the same.
[Which is why he's stepping in here to lend Lovecraft a hand. No turning into a gore rose today.]
But I would like to make sure as many of us make it out of this alive as possible, regardless. We can't change if someone decides they're too frightened, or want to save their own wish too fervently, and choose to act on his demands and shed someone's blood. But I wouldn't see any of you left on the wayside within what we can still control.
I would hope so. I've fought very hard for my freedom, too. I don't see a reason to give it back.
[They've made it down to the cafe area by now, Solomon's hand still tucked against Lovecraft's as he casually leads them over to see what's available at this time of day.]
I wasn't, no. But I would rather focus on the present, and let tomorrow hold its worries for itself.
[Smile quirking when he feels the tug, Solomon lets the other man take the lead, scanning over the selection. He's never had much of a sweet tooth himself, but he did always feel pretty spoiled between Barbatos and Luke being suck terrific bakers. If only they'd let him join them more often!]
Never saw it before?
Do you not get to eat sweets very often back home?
Ahaha -- wait up, hold on, I'm coming. [It's cheerful as he's once again pulled along, letting Lovecraft pick whatever table of his choosing before settling their little handful of prizes down.]
The power for what, exactly? Is it a skill you have, or something else?
[He chuckles. The bud at his ear flutters to life.]
Nothing as flashy as that, maybe. But normally? Yes. I'm a sorcerer.
[He remaneuvers the fork on his plate with a mouthful of cake, holding it out to Lovecraft. To take, to eat right off the fork - really, he's just curious to see what Lovecraft's priorities might be.]
[Again, something new - he glances between the fork and Solomon, as if a little unsure...but takes the final distance to take that bite with his mouth.]
Mmph. [And a swallow.] A sorceror implies...multiple...abilities.
[The question gets him thoughtful.]
No. They are useful, but...people look scared when I use them. I don't understand...why.
Finding like-minded people. Finding a place that you can rely on for safety, even if it's just with each other. Watching in what ways and places we show our gifts.
But, most important... believing in yourself, and what you're capable of, even if others will never do the same. Feelings are our strongest power. We cannot control how people react to us. But just because we may scare the world does not mean we need to think of ourselves as frightening.
It's not where I wanted it to be. It's had other places come and go with it, as I get older. And sometimes, I still wish it could be better. I have a lot of responsibility weighing on keeping it a safe place.
But at least I can still be exactly who I need to be that way.
[He gently lifts the fork back up. There is more cake on it.
His name is Belphegor. Lover of pillows and naps, who tends to fall asleep wherever he pleases. He says things exactly as he sees them, and knows how to make others do his work for him by looking cute.
[Bitter, dangerous, tried to kill his apprentice a few different times. You know, normal stuff. But that isn't relevant for Lovecraft to know.]
Mm? Well, I could see you being very good at it, if you tried. You're very endearing, in a strange way.
[Time to grab a forkful off a different one of these cakes for the baby bird that is Lovecraft.]
Ah, in Belphegor's case, it just means he's a representation - in this case, of the sin of Sloth. His behaviors tend to embody what he represents, because of that connection.
If you're not all that much into sorcery, then I wouldn't worry about it.
[He has to readjust his elbow for how long his hand's been sitting here with cake At The Ready, chin resting against his free hand as his brows raise.]
Not a fan of me doing this, or have we gotten too distracted?
[It's rather late in the evening when Solomon drifts by the pool for the first time since their arrival. No need to really risk it when he didn't want his seals on display for the entire world to see. But that was a moot point now.
He steps in, pace pained and unsteady with shaking breath. What injuries he's gained are joined by quite a bit of new bruising now open to the air, mostly across his front and blossoming against his neck and parts of his face.
Lowering himself takes some effort. But at least for now, he gives himself a moment, dipping his legs into the water with his hands loosely wrapped against Something in his lap and his eyes following the ripples. Lovecraft had to be around here somewhere, but... maybe he could continue his search in a little bit. Just a little.]
[Oh. Well, he sees the shape, but for it to be Lovecraft???????]
I... ah. Hello, Lovecraft. [He sounds rough, buddy.] No wonder I couldn't find you. I wasn't aware you were taking a swim.
Ah, nothing. Nothing. [A weak wave of his hand - lifting it does reveal he has something plush in his lap, though! It is very colorful] Some disagreements after the trial, nothing more.
It's going to heal eventually. No need to worry about it for tonight.
I don't like to owe favors for things I've requested, so it was the least I could do. [He'll hold it up for a better look. It's shaped like a cake slice! It probably has a smiley face on it too, who knows, but it sure is cute. Solomon will make sure it stays nice and dry for now.
At the guess, he just raises a hand as though to halt the question, before shaking his head.]
Who it was can stay between them and myself. I can lick my wounds without getting anyone else involved. Besides, it was a bit of a personal matter, and I don't want to drag the Troupe through it.
[A weak laugh.] I have a knack for it, I'm afraid. Even here.
I can't control how others will perceive me. The most I can do is just stay true to what I believe is important, even if how I need to get there is a little... unconventional at times.
Have you ever had an enemy, Lovecraft? Someone who was against you, but that you still had to stand up to, because it was important to you?
And what would you think you would do, if someone decided you were not important anymore - not deserving of anything anymore - and couldn't have the things you wanted? You wouldn't want to just sit and take it, correct?
Ahaha -- something like that! It's all gotten pretty bureaucratic, though.
[Joking tone aside, he does fall quiet and thoughful as Lovecraft struggles to place his words.]
Mm. I wonder if your contracts work a little more like mine, then. Getting something you need, but having to pledge obedience to a task or use of yourself in return. [Sometimes indefinitely, if you're lucky!]
[He nods, carefully leaning his hands against his knees (dont worry plushie you're not gonna go in the pool) and extending one of his arms out. The costume change for the pool area has left him more bare than he'd like, so in addition to all the wounds from the trial and the new ones on his face and neck, all of the seals that line his body are in full display.]
Willingly, at least. [His fingers trace one of the circles against his forearm, labelled ASMODEUS in its outer ring.] You could consider each of these an agreement I made with someone.
"You'll have someone here to tell you how wonderful you are. Forever and ever." I'm pretty sure that was my pitch.
I found him completely by chance at a bar near my hometown. He'd been broken up about some failed exorcism or other that had taken him away from a person he'd charmed. Drank himself deep, until he was red in the face and crying.
He spilled the beans on his identity, and I took my chance to talk to him. That was all it really took.
[Asmo may not have been happy about it at all when he sobered up. But so it went with demons.]
[It's his turn to grow quiet, now. A furrowing at his brow, an awkward enough hesitation to show that, while he has an answer, something about it isn't... clicking.
...
A beat. An exhale.]
I guess you could say I'm doing it to protect the place of humanity in everything else.
Ahah... No, no, I remember that much. [He'd be having WAY harder of a time justifying himself if he didn't know his stance.] Please, Lovecraft, I'm trying to be sincere!
It's just a little... fuzzy. I know I've answered this before. But if I think about it too deeply, I... can't really seem to remember that much.
[...]
Well, anyway! It's not the first time something's left my memory. Maybe that's why it doesn't feel very urgent to me right now.
he... needs a second..............................
...]
...Well, if I said all that and you still think so, I guess I can count myself lucky.
[Nobody really likes him anymore. And that's okay. And it's okay, he knows, if Lovecraft eventually changes his mind. It always happens.
But he'll enjoy it, for today. Tomorrow will worry about itself.]
No, no, you can if you want. It's yours now, after all.
Just make sure to wring out the water when you leave. I'm not sure what will happen to it if you keep it wet for too long. Plus, I don't know if Sika will make me another one after what I went through to get that one.
You take advantage...of others. But for now. You have been nice to me.
[And the man insists he is telling the truth. He is too exhausted to assume otherwise. He simply wants things to be as simple as possible.]
I will do so. [And rhe smallest upturn of his mouth.] Thank you.
[And with that, like a creature taking its prey under the water, he slips back in with the plushie in tow, sinking to the bottom of the pool once more as a dark spot.]
[He'll watch the man fully descend (how in the world is he breathing? Does he NEED to breathe?), watching the surface of the water settle back to calm.
It's only a couple minutes of silence. Of no movement from Solomon. But eventually, Lovecraft will be able to see the sorcerer's legs finally lift from the pool, and his silhouette vanish from the water's surface.]
[He's in new duds this week! All settled among the roses with a pen idly flicked in his fingers, eyes tipped towards the uncanny sky - an exhausted reprieve from patrolling the school. From the back of his neck, black spreads up and out under his skin like ink dripped on a paper.
He hears Lovecraft, and his face turns to meet him. Smiling. Tired. Very tired.]
Yes. With no small amount of embarrassment either, ahaha...
[That tracks. Lovecraft had seemed confused at times in their short time together, but never distressed. Maybe the knowledge was merely an anchor to an identity that felt secure.
At the question towards himself, Solomon grows quiet, forcing out an exhale as his uninjured hand rests against his chest, eyes drifting to the ground in thought.]
Mm. Forgetting is something I'm used to. But this...
It was a person from my childhood. Such a small piece to the puzzle. Even now... I can't remember their name. Only their face. But...
The ache I felt when they returned to me... it was bittersweet.
[Oh... headpats... He halts for a second, obviously taken aback, before chuckling weakly.]
Ah -- no need for that, Lovecraft. Please, just... sit, if you'd like.
[He'll pat a spot next to him in the gardens.]
Yes, I'd say it is better. Though I could have lived without it, I'm much more resolved with it in place. It makes things feel less... pointless, in a way.
The country I grew up in... magic was a fearful thing. To know it, to practice it. It would send entire families to be executed.
I'd had a gift since before I was old enough to know what to call it. But my family, afraid as they were... they knew what would happen if it was caught. They didn't encourage it. But my gift kept growing.
So I was kept in a basement. My parents told people I was ill. Plague was going around, so no one ever questioned why I was never seen. Many assumed me to be dead.
...
[His expression grows distant.]
I remember a little latticed window near the ceiling was all I had. You could just barely see the people that walked by. The reflections of the sky, sometimes.
They were just a child. They found me on accident, while waiting for a family member. [His lips quirk.] We both screamed the first time we realized someone was looking back at us.
But they weren't scared. They just... talked with me. As odd as I was. We sat there at that window for hours and hours.
And they came back. Over and over, just to talk. I was always frightened someone would catch us, but... they wanted to know so much. And when they learned of my gift... there was no judgement.
They thought I could do amazing things. They believed I was a good person.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
WEEK 1 DAY 1
[He's just curled up in front of his one like a black cat in a makeshift bed, only opening up a weary eye when he hears Solomon come closer.]
What is it.
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Napping again at a time like this, Lovecraft?
Are you sure you're feeling alright?
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I never feel alright.
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[Jokes aside, he does keep his tone gentle.]
You can't let the ennui take you so, or who knows what that bastard Father's going to do with you. Is something on your mind?
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[Why....why does he have to go from one job to....whatever this is? He almost prefers a job.]
But I don't understand this...task. The flowers. It seems silly.
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[But refusal meant annulment, and annulment.... well, they all felt exactly what that meant with Don. It twists Solomon's chest a little to think of the same being done with such a timid, depressed man.]
I'll take it you haven't bothered to start it with someone yet?
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[He makes a little noise.]
Mmhm.
[That's a no, good sir.]
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[He can't pick this man apart and figure him out if he's dead of god-induced explosions.]
Would you like some help?
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Have you done it, yet? Is it...hard?
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His smile does touch his eyes briefly at the acknowledgement. Hi, buddy.]
I've done parts of it, yes. [We, uh, are NOT going to talk about his escapades so far. It's fine.] And I wouldn't say it's hard. Unusual, perhaps. Uncomfortable at times, yes. And it might take some trust. But it doesn't need to be complicated.
Obtaining the flower itself is the hardest step. The rest just requires your time.
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[Then again, he's just constantly uncomfortable. Being here feels like he's itching, constantly. Like he doesn't belong here in more ways than one.]
But if you know how to do it...then show me.
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I doubt anyone likes it, to be fair. But sometimes we must face the uncomfortable if it means we get to see something better on the other side.
Here. Sit up, and give me your hand.
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[Nothing goes well if you make any effort for it. Obviously.]
[He moves to sit up, hair draping everywhere like wet strands of seaweed, pauses, and then...]
[Here. His slender, clammy pale hand.]
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[It's like watching someone freshly dipped from the sea... fascinating. But he takes that clammy hand between his own, pausing just for a moment.]
Do you wish to take my flower, or shall I take yours instead?
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....What do you prefer?
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If you're nervous, you may take mine. I know what to expect.
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[He's still a little hesitant, hand sort of hovering.]
[Lovecraft moves it forward, splaying it on the other's chest before...it sinks, to his surprise.]
[He blinks, fingertips touching something firm.]
There's...something here. I have to pull out, yes...?
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It takes him a second to respond, eyes shut in concentration and visibly bracing himself, but he nods.]
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[And coming from his chest, like some kind of magic trick, is ab unbloomed rose. Lovecraft stares at it, turning this way and that.]
It feels like a real...flower.
[The next step is...to put it in the hair, right?]
[He moves to do so, tucking it above the man's ear.]
1/2
2/2
There we are. That's the hard part, I promise.
[And once again, he holds out his palm for Lovecraft's hand.]
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[It's a nice shade of blue, really. The rose, obviously.]
Hm. [Again, he offers his hand, still a little tense.] Did it hurt...?
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[Even though he's expected as much, it's still a little embarrassing to admit out loud. But he clears his throat, keeping Lovecraft's hand in his own as he carefully starts rising to his feet.]
Here. Come with me. I think I remember seeing something about you enjoying sweets, correct?
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[Oh, looks like Solomon is standing - he's pausing, before pulling himself up to his feet as well, a gangly noodle as he always is.]
....Yes? Oh. Yes, from the grave. That's right.
1/2
2/2
I figured we could start there. Our task requires intimacy, and intimacy comes in all sorts.
Keep hold of my hand for now. I'd just like to start by taking you to find something I know you like. Maybe we'll learn something about one another, you and I.
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...Well. If you know what...you're doing.
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Lovecraft's clammy hand firmly in his own, he'll guide them back out of the courtyard. Time to descend to the cafe.]
Oh, I don't.
But isn't that the fun in getting to know someone? Something unknown turning into something known, and becoming something to share. It's like giving a small piece of yourself to another.
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[Giving yourself to people? He's had way too much of that, thank you.]
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I promise I don't mean that literally, if that's what you're worried about.
Have you never made a friend before?
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[Was any of them a friend?]
Maybe John. He was...nice.
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What sort of person is John, that you'd call him that?
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[Very VERY opposite from him.]
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Haha, alright, I know that sort. Was it pleasant to be around him?
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[He's not the best at explaining.]
But he was nice. Like you are nice.
1/2
/2
[It's lost a smidge of its usual bravado, but he clears his throat and it's all right back to normal.]
I'm glad to hear that's not the case. I do just genuinely want to understand you better.
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[are you secretly mean, man]
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Mm. It's hard to say.
I always try to be sincere, but some consider it to be an annoyance more than a help.
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[sincere]
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Ah, I see.
[heart shattering noises]
Well, at least I hope my intention is clear, regardless.
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[But,]
At least you don't mean any harm. I think.
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Besides, I think it will be for the best of all of us if we can learn more about one another while we're still able. Who knows what might happen.
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[He doesn't seem to be the nicest fellow.]
And there was that part about. Killing?
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He expects at least one to kill. And He expects everyone to follow his tasks, or he'll consider it a break of his engagement... which, I expect, will lead exactly to what happened with Don. If we completely refuse to kill, I'm unfortunately expecting the same.
[Which is why he's stepping in here to lend Lovecraft a hand. No turning into a gore rose today.]
But I would like to make sure as many of us make it out of this alive as possible, regardless. We can't change if someone decides they're too frightened, or want to save their own wish too fervently, and choose to act on his demands and shed someone's blood. But I wouldn't see any of you left on the wayside within what we can still control.
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[So Solomon wishes to save as many as he can in this wild world. Like a person scooping out ducklings from a grate.]
You don't....know us. But you wish to save us. Why?
[Simply because he is a good man? Is he?]
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Do I need a reason?
People deserve to be free.
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[He asks, staring at him.]
Do you deserve to be...free, too?
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[They've made it down to the cafe area by now, Solomon's hand still tucked against Lovecraft's as he casually leads them over to see what's available at this time of day.]
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[The fact that he's held his hand this long is surprising, he thinks. He's not some kind of expert at hand holding, himself.]
[The food draws his attention, though, and he's tugging a bit like a kid in the direction of the sweets.]
They have so many. I never saw it...before.
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[Smile quirking when he feels the tug, Solomon lets the other man take the lead, scanning over the selection. He's never had much of a sweet tooth himself, but he did always feel pretty spoiled between Barbatos and Luke being suck terrific bakers. If only they'd let him join them more often!]
Never saw it before?
Do you not get to eat sweets very often back home?
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[Holy shut-in, Batman.]
[He does point at a few cakes, though.]
Let's try these.
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[Oh, what a selection. He'll nod his understanding, gesturing for the staff to take care of placing the order.]
Would you like to share, or do you prefer a helping for yourself?
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[He seems very genuine about this.]
[He thinks a moment, glancing at the flower in the other's hair. It needs to bloom...]
I can share. I guess.
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Well, he'll make the gestures to the staff quick, because he'd rather get back to this chatter because what do you MEAN you don't know, my man...]
Do... you not remember what you were doing during those years, Lovecraft?
Surely you weren't sleeping that whole time.
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[His brow furrows, like he's trying very hard to remember...]
[But it seems he just gives up, heaving a sigh.]
I must have been sleeping.
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Are you not human?
[Just. Putting that out there a little frankly, because that would explain a lot.]
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No......................?
[He literally looks like this one cat from this meme.]
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Oh! Well, then that's slightly less concerning.
I'm sorry I haven't asked until now. It seemed a little rude. But if you're not human, what would you call yourself?
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I think I am human....? Ah...
[Now he's chewing at his nails.]
I'm not...sure.............I'm an ability user...like some others......
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[Still, poor Lovecraft doesn't sound very confident. So: eyes emoji dot jpg
Solomon's quick to pick up their little tray of sweets.]
Come, let's find a table real quick. No need to chat in front of the staff.
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[The select few. Blessed! And also cursed, perhaps.]
Okay. [He's perking up.....sweet time!] Let's go.
[And a tug tug tug towards the tables.]
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The power for what, exactly? Is it a skill you have, or something else?
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[He's swallowing one right away, before peering over thoughtfully.]
To do all sorts...of things. Everyone has their own. Ability. Could be anything. Transformation. Elemental...control. And the like.
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Ah, something of the supernatural, then.
Do you remember what yours was?
[He'll get busy cutting this piece of cake in half, don't mind him.]
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[And now he looks a little nervous, like he's wandering into territory he knows he shouldn't talk about.]
It's a...transformation power.
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As in, you can turn into something else? Or you can turn others into something else?
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[A little flustered.]
Do you...have abilities, Solomon?
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Nothing as flashy as that, maybe. But normally? Yes. I'm a sorcerer.
[He remaneuvers the fork on his plate with a mouthful of cake, holding it out to Lovecraft. To take, to eat right off the fork - really, he's just curious to see what Lovecraft's priorities might be.]
Are you embarrassed about your powers?
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Mmph. [And a swallow.] A sorceror implies...multiple...abilities.
[The question gets him thoughtful.]
No. They are useful, but...people look scared when I use them. I don't understand...why.
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People fear what they can't understand. And abilities, magics, anything like that... they can be very, very hard to understand.
[Fork meets ceramic, a subtle noise as more pastry is gathered.]
Would you like more of what I just gave you?
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[He would ask for more, but he has to ask something first. Something in what he's saying...]
Do people fear you...too?
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Sometimes, sure. Though I'd like to hope I've grown out of it a little.
Or perhaps, we just learn to adapt when the world won't adapt to us.
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[It feels like he never will.]
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But, most important... believing in yourself, and what you're capable of, even if others will never do the same. Feelings are our strongest power. We cannot control how people react to us. But just because we may scare the world does not mean we need to think of ourselves as frightening.
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Have you found a place of safety, Solomon?
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It's not where I wanted it to be. It's had other places come and go with it, as I get older. And sometimes, I still wish it could be better. I have a lot of responsibility weighing on keeping it a safe place.
But at least I can still be exactly who I need to be that way.
[He gently lifts the fork back up. There is more cake on it.
Wiggle wiggle wiggle you know you want some]
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[Good for you.]
[He has a place of safety himself. That is home. He wants to be home.]
[The fork wiggles.]
Give it here again.
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I'm sorry if it wasn't an answer you wanted to hear.
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[And yes thank you he WILL get his piece of cake to swallow.]
Mmph. It...takes work.
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[Holding hands and feeding a squid man cake, what a way to spend an afternoon.]
Talking like that, though... you really do remind me of someone from home.
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[He tilts his head curiously.]
Who?
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[Bitter, dangerous, tried to kill his apprentice a few different times. You know, normal stuff. But that isn't relevant for Lovecraft to know.]
He's the appointed Avatar of Sloth.
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[As if HE could be cute even, come on.]
What's an Avatar?
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[Time to grab a forkful off a different one of these cakes for the baby bird that is Lovecraft.]
Ah, in Belphegor's case, it just means he's a representation - in this case, of the sin of Sloth. His behaviors tend to embody what he represents, because of that connection.
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[SOUNDS FAKE!!!]
[Also nice, another forkful...he looks expectant, though still curious to learn more of this Sloth lore.]
A representation. Literal, or...metaphorical?
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[Holding out the fork again with a smile.]
And I mean literal, yes.
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[SIIIIIIGH and also Wait a second. Even cake can wait for clarification.]
What type of creature is Belphegor?
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[Said as though they're just talking about the weather.]
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[not an actual DEMON]
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Is it really that hard to believe?
All sorts of things exist out there.
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[Somewhere, a priest is sneezing.]
That sounds scary, though.
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But, like anything else, they're easier to manage if you know how to deal with them safely.
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Where do you even get...that kind of experience?
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[He has to readjust his elbow for how long his hand's been sitting here with cake At The Ready, chin resting against his free hand as his brows raise.]
Not a fan of me doing this, or have we gotten too distracted?
WEEK ONE - SATURDAY POST TRIAL
He steps in, pace pained and unsteady with shaking breath. What injuries he's gained are joined by quite a bit of new bruising now open to the air, mostly across his front and blossoming against his neck and parts of his face.
Lowering himself takes some effort. But at least for now, he gives himself a moment, dipping his legs into the water with his hands loosely wrapped against Something in his lap and his eyes following the ripples. Lovecraft had to be around here somewhere, but... maybe he could continue his search in a little bit. Just a little.]
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[Only to reveal the pale face of Lovecraft himself. By the looks of it, he is still fully clothed. How long was he down there for?]
Solomon.
[He intones...before noticing the wounds.]
What...happened?
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I... ah. Hello, Lovecraft. [He sounds rough, buddy.] No wonder I couldn't find you. I wasn't aware you were taking a swim.
Ah, nothing. Nothing. [A weak wave of his hand - lifting it does reveal he has something plush in his lap, though! It is very colorful] Some disagreements after the trial, nothing more.
It's going to heal eventually. No need to worry about it for tonight.
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[He moves to the side of the pool, draping his arms over the side so he can peer up at the man, and...oh! His prize.]
You heeded your promise. [There is a rare smile on his face.] But disagreements...was it him. Fandaniel?
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At the guess, he just raises a hand as though to halt the question, before shaking his head.]
Who it was can stay between them and myself. I can lick my wounds without getting anyone else involved. Besides, it was a bit of a personal matter, and I don't want to drag the Troupe through it.
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[Still, the plush doesn't keep the curiousity he has out of his features. Could a personal matter really cause this much fallout?]
I noticed...Nishi was. Mad at you, too. You shouldn't...make enemies. Solomon.
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I can't control how others will perceive me. The most I can do is just stay true to what I believe is important, even if how I need to get there is a little... unconventional at times.
Have you ever had an enemy, Lovecraft? Someone who was against you, but that you still had to stand up to, because it was important to you?
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[He thinks for a long moment.]
There's really nothing...important to me. So no.
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Why did you choose to swim fully clothed, for example?
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[He shrugs.]
I didn't feel like I...wanted to waste effort.
[Sometimes...you are lazy.]
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Nobody will bother me. It's quiet. And I can sleep...as much as I want.
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Would you be upset, if someone said you could not have those things?
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[He says, like its fact.]
I'm already upset.
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[...]
[The questions sit in his stomach, churning. They make him feel strange, like brushing up against a wound he didn't realize he had.]
...I suppose not. But sometimes...my contract...asks for this in return for payment.
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[Hello?]
What contract is that?
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[Everyone has a contract when they work for someone, of course?]
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[It's like a whole club!]
[That totally do nice things!]
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Why would you accept a contract if you don't care for the terms of it?
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[The question makes him look a little troubled, casting his gaze down at the edge of the pool.]
I'm not sure. It is...as if I am...compelled, sometimes.
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[Ah. This, at least, is diving into territory he is a little more familiar with, weird framing or not.]
...Compelled? In what way?
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[beep beep?]
[He is squeezing his eyes shut, trying to...remember, but he can't. It feels so out of reach.]
I don't...know. Like a leash.
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[Joking tone aside, he does fall quiet and thoughful as Lovecraft struggles to place his words.]
Mm. I wonder if your contracts work a little more like mine, then. Getting something you need, but having to pledge obedience to a task or use of yourself in return. [Sometimes indefinitely, if you're lucky!]
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That's it. You also...have to work like that?
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Willingly, at least. [His fingers trace one of the circles against his forearm, labelled ASMODEUS in its outer ring.] You could consider each of these an agreement I made with someone.
A pact.
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[Something in Lovecraft's usually dour face turns somewhat pensive as he looks over the winding tattoos, the name emblazoned on his forearm.]
...I assume. Not with humans.
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[His smile is easy as he brings his arm back to his lap, eyes against the water.]
Humans are caught up in enough troubles as it is.
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[His mouth twists to the side.]
What do these creatures get out of this?
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Some only want items. Some want a favor. Sometimes they just want someone there to stroke their ego. It depends.
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And what did this...one want?
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"You'll have someone here to tell you how wonderful you are. Forever and ever." I'm pretty sure that was my pitch.
I found him completely by chance at a bar near my hometown. He'd been broken up about some failed exorcism or other that had taken him away from a person he'd charmed. Drank himself deep, until he was red in the face and crying.
He spilled the beans on his identity, and I took my chance to talk to him. That was all it really took.
[Asmo may not have been happy about it at all when he sobered up. But so it went with demons.]
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[Sounds less like a creature to be summoned, and more like a person who had simply been through a failure.]
[Lovecraft stares, unsure what to think.]
Why did you want him?
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I would say... probably for the same reasons your contracts want you.
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And why do you...search for power?
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...
A beat. An exhale.]
I guess you could say I'm doing it to protect the place of humanity in everything else.
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[Yes, he notices that pause, alright. He sighs.]
You don't remember. Do you.
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It's just a little... fuzzy. I know I've answered this before. But if I think about it too deeply, I... can't really seem to remember that much.
[...]
Well, anyway! It's not the first time something's left my memory. Maybe that's why it doesn't feel very urgent to me right now.
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[Whatever he's missing. Because he feels it, too. Someone has it, somewhere, and he doesn't know who.]
You've...forgotten a lot?
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I'm well aware.
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No, no, pull it together. Lovecraft just asked a question.]
...Ah. Sorry.
Yes, I have. It's only natural. People can only remember so much.
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Does Fandaniel have it?
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[Oh he can't help the laugh that bursts out.]
What a question. Why do you think it's him?
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You're...intense around each other...
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I just don't think he likes me very much.
[teehee]
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[HE SAW THAT BITE MARK IN TRIAL, MAN]
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I told you, I'm trying to be sincere.
[there could be 1993485937485938475 reasons why Fandaniel would bite him!]
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[He's making grabby hands for the plushie. Give it here.]
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[He sighs, sitting up and lifting his arms away from his lap. There you go, pool man, all yours.]
Are you going to take this poor thing into the water with you?
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[Yay! The very cute cake plushie...big eyes...what a wonderful thing. He squeezes it a little.]
Why...can't I?
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he... needs a second..............................
...]
...Well, if I said all that and you still think so, I guess I can count myself lucky.
[Nobody really likes him anymore. And that's okay. And it's okay, he knows, if Lovecraft eventually changes his mind. It always happens.
But he'll enjoy it, for today. Tomorrow will worry about itself.]
No, no, you can if you want. It's yours now, after all.
Just make sure to wring out the water when you leave. I'm not sure what will happen to it if you keep it wet for too long. Plus, I don't know if Sika will make me another one after what I went through to get that one.
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[And the man insists he is telling the truth. He is too exhausted to assume otherwise. He simply wants things to be as simple as possible.]
I will do so. [And rhe smallest upturn of his mouth.] Thank you.
[And with that, like a creature taking its prey under the water, he slips back in with the plushie in tow, sinking to the bottom of the pool once more as a dark spot.]
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You're welcome, Lovecraft.
[He'll watch the man fully descend (how in the world is he breathing? Does he NEED to breathe?), watching the surface of the water settle back to calm.
It's only a couple minutes of silence. Of no movement from Solomon. But eventually, Lovecraft will be able to see the sorcerer's legs finally lift from the pool, and his silhouette vanish from the water's surface.]
WEEK 3, TUESDAY
[He regards the mage coolly, sitting in the field of flowers.]
Have you...retrieved what you have lost?
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He hears Lovecraft, and his face turns to meet him. Smiling. Tired. Very tired.]
Yes. With no small amount of embarrassment either, ahaha...
How about you?
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[He did get new duds, but is not wearing them now. Only his regular trenchcoat.]
[He comes over, puts a clammy hand over that blackened neck.]
What is this...?
I forgot his hand is all bandaged up too whoops its been a long week for sol
He sighs, uninjured hand lifting to pat Lovecraft's arm.]
The consequences of a contract, Lovecraft.
I'm not in any pain from it. Pay it no mind.
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[His hand doesn't leave that spot of skin.]
I thought our...abilities didn't work here. Unless this is something done...before you came.
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And no. It was not. [Even though that seal has, in fact, been on his neck since the very first trial.]
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Then tell me of it. If it troubles you so.
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The pen flicks in his hands.]
...
What do you know about Sika Madu, Lovecraft?
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[He squints.]
Not much. I know...they chose...our secrets.
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He nods after a moment's hesitation.]
Not much of a start, but yes, that's something.
Do you know what they are?
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[As much as he knows.]
Are they...a demon?
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Though they claim to not prefer the label.
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[He...really doesn't like that.]
So. This fact...what does it have to do with your contract?
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I asked them for a pact. They agreed.
[You know. Normal things!]
This isn't normally how I like to do it, to be honest. But time wasn't on our side, and what's done is done.
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[And he will flick the man in the side of the head.]
You are a fool, Solomon.
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Ahahahahah -- I've been called worse.
Still, I assume you didn't walk over here just to pour salt in my wounds and call me names. You said you remembered what you were, correct?
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[And a haggard sigh.]
I have been called..."god" by those who have summoned me. I suppose...that is the best way to...describe it.
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[He leans his chin against his hand as he looks up at lovecraft with a cockeyed grin.]
Here I was wondering. You never really struck me as a human.
Does it bother you?
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[So fucking small.]
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I meant more the realization of what it is you are. Are you at peace with it?
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Are you...at peace with what you have had returned?
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At the question towards himself, Solomon grows quiet, forcing out an exhale as his uninjured hand rests against his chest, eyes drifting to the ground in thought.]
Mm. Forgetting is something I'm used to. But this...
It was a person from my childhood. Such a small piece to the puzzle. Even now... I can't remember their name. Only their face. But...
The ache I felt when they returned to me... it was bittersweet.
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But it's better to have them back. Isn't it?
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Ah -- no need for that, Lovecraft. Please, just... sit, if you'd like.
[He'll pat a spot next to him in the gardens.]
Yes, I'd say it is better. Though I could have lived without it, I'm much more resolved with it in place. It makes things feel less... pointless, in a way.
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[He sits down, slouching over.]
Well. You now know your goal. And....I suppose...nothing can sway you from it.
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I always knew at least parts of my goal. The inspiration for it was all that was taken from me, that's all.
Remembering someone's belief in you is a powerful thing.
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What was that person like? The one who gave you...such inspiration.
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Friendly. Incredibly bright and curious. I remember their eyes shone like diamonds. Always seeing right where I was.
We were only children at the time. And I was...
...
I was used to different treatment.
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[Who saw him with different eyes.]
You were treated differently? Why?
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I'd had a gift since before I was old enough to know what to call it. But my family, afraid as they were... they knew what would happen if it was caught. They didn't encourage it. But my gift kept growing.
So I was kept in a basement. My parents told people I was ill. Plague was going around, so no one ever questioned why I was never seen. Many assumed me to be dead.
...
[His expression grows distant.]
I remember a little latticed window near the ceiling was all I had. You could just barely see the people that walked by. The reflections of the sky, sometimes.
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[Kept away. Like an animal.]
And this person...came by to save you?
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They were just a child. They found me on accident, while waiting for a family member. [His lips quirk.] We both screamed the first time we realized someone was looking back at us.
But they weren't scared. They just... talked with me. As odd as I was. We sat there at that window for hours and hours.
And they came back. Over and over, just to talk. I was always frightened someone would catch us, but... they wanted to know so much. And when they learned of my gift... there was no judgement.
They thought I could do amazing things. They believed I was a good person.
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They sound like...a very good friend. To think such things.