I confess that I've been terrible, things have been so chaotic since my arrival...and yours as well that I haven't had time to invite anyone over for a social calling. I needed to know you were okay.
[After all they've been through since their arrival and after certain things have come to light Dorian couldn't help feeling a little protective over the man he called his rescuer. Like a brother might be over a younger sibling, though Dorian had none, he suspected that this is what it must feel like.
He pours a drink for Soubi and then for himself, not knowing what the younger man liked in particular he went with an easy brandy.]
[Soubi doesn't have siblings, either. He's never had anyone look out for him quite like that.]
I'm fine, [he answers, watching Dorian as he does. There's something more here, isn't there? He glances at the drink that's been poured, considering for a moment before he lifts it. He doesn't often drink, but he finds himself curious about the taste.]
[Dorian is aware that Soubi isn't a fool, he's very bright in his own quiet way...and Dorian could spot a fool a mile away so he wasn't going to treat him like one. The mage had too much respect for the young man to do that to him.]
I met a young man with a sadistic streak, ears, tail...and a very interesting perspective on how they treat their partners. [Dorian didn't catch his name.] I say interesting, but I mean disturbing.
[He took a sip of his drink before setting it down and leaning back in his seat.] You don't have to say anything if you don't want to, but one conversation with him and I learned quite a bit, enough to be concerned.
[He's aware that Soubi is an adult and he could associate with whoever he wanted.] I just wanted you to know that I'm here if you need...well...anything at all really. I won't go anywhere.
[Soubi's gaze drifts away from Dorian's face, picking a neutral place to look as the man brings up Seimei. Because the person he describes is, unmistakably, Seimei Aoyagi. What did he say? What did he do? Soubi has, perhaps, been intently ignoring the network post. He's seen it. He has no need to respond to it. If Seimei wanted to hear from him, he would have made that clear.]
There is nothing to be concerned about.
[This isn't the first time he's had some semblance of this conversation. Not the first time someone has approached him after meeting Seimei. Kio hated him, was glad when he thought Seimei was dead. He shivers and decides then to take a long drink from the glass he's holding.
Eventually, he lifts his gaze to meet Dorian's again.]
It's difficult not to be concerned, not when he can do the things he claims you can do, but he keeps you on as a spare...and not when...[Dorian gestures to his neck indicating that he knows about the fact that Seimei carved into Soubi like a Feastday pheasant.]
I see you, how bright and clever you are, your quiet compassion and the hurting [Dorian doesn't miss it when he observes Soubi.] I won't push, because you've your right to your own autonomy and space in your own thoughts, but I cannot help but be concerned about those words. When I told him how mages were treated in parts of my world he seemed to think they were good ideas, it's very telling.
[It's definitely not Soubi he questions, but Seimei and his treatment of Soubi.]
I don't claim to understand what that means [being someone's] it sounds like possession or ownership.
We are a matched pair, [he says quietly.] Fighter and Sacrifice. I fight the battles, he takes the damage. People like us occur in pairs sharing the same name.
[Autonomy? If only Dorian knew. The idea of autonomy is so foreign at this point in his life, young as he is, that he doesn't know how to want it. Soubi knows what Seimei is, maybe better than anyone. But, until very recently, he could not imagine a life without Seimei there.
Yes, he did explain a bit about how Fighters and Sacrifices work, I get that's a function of your world's magic, it seems cumbersome, but it is what it is. It sounds like a partnership to me, partnerships involve a level of trust, cooperation, and equal equity.
[Leaning back in his chair and taking a more relaxed posture Dorian took a sip of his drink.]
He doesn't appear to view you that way, more like chattel or property.
[As someone who had to learn how wrong it was to own a person, Dorian can recognize how one can normalize something like that.]
We had a brief conversation about how some mages are treated where I come from, the Saarebas are treated like prisoners within their own body adorned with heavy pauldrons and chains, their faces covered with visors, their mouths sewn shut, or tongues cut out [the Qun had terrible practices when it came to mages] aside from being entombed in their own bodies they are constantly leashed to a keeper, Arvaarad, and if they are found astray, even by accident, they are killed.
[Dorian wasn't one for frowning, he made an effort to always have a pleasant air about him with the people he liked, but he was deeply concerned and this was a rare situation for him.]
He seemed to think this was a fine idea and that's when I knew I had to reach out to you. I don't like the idea that I might have put a wicked notion in his head, before fully understanding his connection to you.
[While Soubi cannot imagine anyone treating a Fighter exactly like that - they need a certain amount of physical freedom to perform their roles - he can imagine Seimei seeing an advantage in it. Not all leashes need to be physical, and Soubi's is already wrapped tightly around Seimei's hand.]
Sewing my mouth shut would defeat my purpose, [he says, as if that is any consolation to what Dorian has just told him.] And I am his. Wholly. That is what I am.
[Not who he is, what he is. Though even as he says it, he knows that there is a fracture in that.]
Well, that's something, I don't know what kind of something, but it's something [Dorian's not comforted by it, that mutilating Soubi's ability to vocalize doesn't mean he cannot mutilate] if he does brandish a needle at you, I do recommend running in the opposite direction.
[Dorian doesn't miss the bit at the end where even Soubi refers to himself as an object or a what and not a who.]
What purpose could there be in hurting you? What is the net positive, the greater good, the advantage in doing that? [Because Dorian can see no net positive other than selfish motivation.]
[Dorian isn't the first person to look at him this way. Kio did. But he didn't expected Kio to understand, nor does he expect Dorian to. This is his life. This is all his life has ever been.
And he doesn't know what to do with his doubts.
Soubi looks down at his glass and runs his thumb along the edge. He knows that other pairs don't function this way. But all of those other pairs have lost to him.]
A great many terrible things have been done in the name of being the best, my own father thought along those same lines. In my homeland we don't have children, we breed traits...the expectations that were leveled on me were oppressive and this was before I was even born. [Dorian doesn't often tell anyone the story of his life, he hates talking about it, but Soubi deserves it and so Dorian pours himself a drink for fortification.] My parents married, not out of affection, but because of powerful lineage, they loathe each other, and yet they are bound by duty, glory, legacy, and the very best. They thought they would get all of that through me, I would take my father's place in the Magisterium and then rise to the most coveted position of Archon the perfect mage: perfect mind, perfect body, the perfect leader.
[When Dorian spoke these words they were clipped almost like he was spitting every single syllable out.]
These are impossible standards you see, because it assumes people have no flaws and every single flaw, every aberration is unacceptable, it must be hidden. I was a prodigy, among inventing time magic I am the closest that anyone has ever gotten to curing the blight in our world, I also came into my magic at a remarkably young age and my control was beyond exceptional [Doian's boastful, certainly, but he had a reason to be boastful, he was and is as good as he says] I had many successes, a good thing for my mentors because my successes are their successes. It also made me a right little pain in the ass, boredom and brilliance gave me a sense of superiority and I bullied those beneath me, or who I thought was beneath me. I was a little monster, fortunately, I grew out of it.
[And grew into something else.]
I also admired my father, I thought he was different, better than the others...the things he preached with such moral conviction: blood magic, the resort of a weak mind. Those were his words log that away. [Tilting his head back Dorian gathered his thoughts in a way that was digestible and appropriate.]
Growing pains happened and I became more aware of the things my family wanted of me, the best of me, the best for me...the best for themselves and their legacy...anything for that. I would have to follow this path they'd designed for me without question, marry the girl, bury my feelings, and live my entire life as a lie. [Dorian had no interest in such constraints and even less interest in marrying the girl, or someone he didn't love.] Living a lie, it festers inside of you, like poison. You have to fight for what's in your heart. For a long time, I was poisoned, always drunk, out of control, combative...I could care less about legacies or achieving the best. Being the best was superficial if I had to spend the rest of my life fighting for the scraps of my own existence.
[And Dorian is still self-destructive at times, but he's also incredibly self-aware...and aware of others.]
Needless to say, my family couldn't have that, my father...who I thought would understand, who I thought loved me enough to understand imprisoned me and intended to perform a blood ritual on me in order to change me, make me acceptable, control me...all in the name of being the best. Wanting the best. Maintaining the very best of appearances. [Dorian leaned forward in his seat, drinking the glass before pouring a third] I learned some important lessons...sometimes the ones you love are also the ones who disappoint you the most. You think if they love you they wouldn't want to hurt you. It becomes very difficult to untangle the love from the hurt and so you keep on hurting because you think hurting is who you are.
[Dorian pauses here taking a sip.]
You deserve more than scraps Soubi, just because he wanted you doesn't mean he deserved you.
[Soubi listens, though his gaze is focused elsewhere. His thumb continues to brush along the lip of the glass in a slow back-and-forth as he lets the narrative of Dorian's life trickle through his mind.
There are parts of it that strike him, the familiarity of being pushed, of being considered special. A prodigy. A bright future.
It becomes very difficult to untangle the love from the hurt.
Soubi sets his glass aside and slides his cigarettes out of a pocket. He doesn't immediately take one out, but that is his great desire. A familiar comfort. And, in the same breath, a thing that ties him to someone he would sooner forget.]
I didn't have a family, [he says quietly, distant and still not meeting Dorian's gaze.] My parents died when I was young. I was taken in by a guardian. Someone who knew my mother.
[Ritsu. The mere thought of him sends something twisting through Soubi. A feeling he can't articulate. He slides a cigarette out of the pack and tucks it between his lips. He pauses long enough to light it. And if Dorian wants him to smoke elsewhere, well. The conversation will just have to move. Or risk ending.]
He was all I had. He was my entire world.
[He rubs his thumb against his bottom lip. Normally Soubi is quite still, but now he is struggling not to fidget. He doesn't want to talk about this. He doesn't want to think about it. He doesn't want to consider what his life might have been because there is no point in it.]
I was blank. I had no destined name. No other half that would someday find me.
[Here, in this opulent house, in a dream or nightmare or whatever this place is, Soubi considers speaking the thought that has lived in him for a long time. He takes a drag, lingering over it before he exhales.
He can't.
Silent, he tucks his cigarette between his lips and holds it there so both hands are free. He unwraps his neck, revealing the scars: crude barbed wire or thorns around his neck. The word Beloved.]
[Fortunately Dorian doesn't have a problem with Soubi smoking, he has his own vices that help him to cope and he's not about to deny the man his. Granted he doesn't have an ashtray so he scoots an empty snifter the younger man's way as much to say he's fine with it as he is in offering support.]
I won't say you're lucky because you're not, if what I've seen in your memories was anything to go by then your guardian was a piece of work.
[When Dorian is honest, his honesty is typically frank and without any hidden messages. If this guardian was who Dorian surmised he was then the man was shit.]
I'm sorry that your entire world revolved around a person who had no idea how to appreciate you, Soubi.
[Dorian would have said more, but for the first time Soubi began to unwrap his bandage and reveal the scars that the mage was already aware of but hadn't seen. It was hard to look at, not because it did anything to defile Soubi, but because Dorian couldn't imagine that there was any genuine consent that went into being marked in such a way.
It made him think of cattle branding.]
Amatus [Dorian said slowly reading the word Beloved that was carved into Soubi's skin. To him the word is a term of endearment, but there's a kind of bastardization when he sees it carved onto someone. Like the meaning was changed.]
[That's right, Dorian had seen Ritsu at his finest. Soubi lingers over another drag. The word flickers through his mind as somewhat familiar - Latin? Or something.]
Seimei's name, [he says quietly.] A blank Fighter can be named once.
[Even as he says it, he thinks of Ritsuka. And he realizes that he doesn't care if it means going against this name for the rest of his life: he would dedicate himself to Ritsuka in a heartbeat. He has, in a sense, no matter how much Seimei's presence complicates matters.
Soubi leans to tap his cigarette against the empty glass. Then he sits back. Perhaps the only reason he can bear to even think about revealing more is because Dorian has already seen so much.]
I don't know what he will do here. [He's quiet for a moment, speculating far more than he ever would elsewhere.] If does not have an enemy, he will find one.
[Latin, but in Dorian's homeworld it is Tevene and it is the word for Beloved, though they use it as a term of endearment.]
I assume that there is a sense of irony in that being his name? [Or vanity] Is it necessary to Carve it into the Fighter's skin, I got the impression that it wasn't, just his...expectation.
[And it was even more vexing when Seimei said it was Soubi's choice, maybe it was, but somehow Dorian didn't get the impression that it was wholly Soubi's choice. He probably assented to the demand because pain was an expectation and it was a bit part of his life. What's a little more pain...but was it really a choice?
Dorian couldn't imagine it. A slave could choose to be subjected to all sorts of things willingly for freedoms or rewards, but there was still a power dynamic and years of systematic abuse and manipulation. Had there not been any of these things in the way would the slave be able to choose more freely for himself.
There were mind traps at play and Dorian considered them all when he looked at the scar.]
I don't enjoy complications [Dorian confessed simply] and I certainly don't go around courting conflict [he does enjoy relative ease in his life] but if he harms you, physically, mentally, or otherwise [and I find out about it was left unspoken] then there may be a few words between us.
I've never met another blank, [he admits.] But all names manifest physically.
[So, he assumes, that marking a blank fighter always means literally that: putting the chosen name somewhere on their bodies. But he doesn't know, and likely never will. Seimei's method might have been cruel, but it was his choice. Wasn't it?
He looks up when Dorian makes that last remark, as it sounds like a thinly veiled threat. Maybe not for violence, but something. And he knows that if Seimei feels the need for protection or offense, he will pull Soubi into this. In the end, Seimei's word is law. Whatever he might think or feel or want, Soubi has not been able to break that deeply ingrained need to obey.
Soubi rubs his bottom lip with his thumb and he considers all of the scars that Dorian has not seen. Ritsuka asked - commanded - that he show them once. Only once.]
So you might have to go into a bit of detail here, I'm not clear on what it means to be a Blank or the physical manifestations of these names.
[Because Dorian is naturally curious about such things, especially because it's magic and it is a kind of magic that operates very differently from his own.
There's also the fact that the more he knew the better in this situation, the better he would be able to engage, and the better he would be able to protect Soubi if it came down to it. It had crossed his mind that someone like Seimei might attempt to use Soubi to hurt him, might even attempt to get them in an opposing situation.
So the more he knew the better and the one thing Dorian had up his sleeve was Necromancy and Spirit magic, his two branches of magic that had been unaltered...clearly, this world approved of magic that inspired horror.]
I don't want anything to happen to you either, Soubi, and I hope that if there is ever a case then the matter can be settled diplomatically. I'm certain the boy was also made to be what he is, not born that way, and I can sympathize to an extent [but Dorian's compassion only extends so far] but your well being is a priority.
Fighters and Sacrifices occur in pairs. They share the same name - that name usually manifests somewhere on their bodies as they get older. Like... a birthmark. They feel drawn to each other. And, eventually, they find each other. They strengthen each other.
[He flicks more ash off his cigarette.]
Blanks don't have a destined name. They don't have a partner waiting for them. They have all the potential power of any other Fighter or Sacrifice. They can take a name once. Ritsu said they could replace partners that had died, or be used if one never surfaces.
[He sits back more, partially curled in on himself as he rests his heel on the edge of the sofa, knee against his chest. Soubi is not so convinced that Seimei wasn't born the way that he is. He's been this way for as long as Soubi has known him, and, he suspects, for as long as Ritsu had.]
So, you're a blank fighter, meaning you did not have this naturally occurring mark on your body as an identifier, and you were chosen by someone who carved this mark into you?
[That was the gist of what Dorian was understanding anyway. Dorian does want to understand as much as he can, especially if he wants to be able to help Soubi in the event of an incident.
Still, he can see that this is a very difficult conversation for him to have just by the way the younger man curls in on himself in the corner.]
Hmm...I'm here and I'll protect you...but I can see it's a bit much and we can leave it if you like.
[Soubi snubs out his cigarette and leaves it in the glass he's been using as an ash tray. He picks up the discarded bandage to wrap it around his neck again, winding it carefully. Even when the scar isn't exposed, it's still like wearing a collar. A constant reminder.]
You said you need your voice to use spells, that your spells are verbal? Is that how you know what your counter spell will be.
[Dorian doesn't require any verbal cues to cast a spell, it did make battling other mages something that was quite strategic. Dorian also understood the mechanics of this world where not all abilities worked the way one imagined, but Dorian came into this world with a select set of abilities that...clearly this world liked and left them completely intact.]
You're right [Dorian said in a very chipper voice] it's anyone who attempts to hurt you that'll need protecting.
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[After all they've been through since their arrival and after certain things have come to light Dorian couldn't help feeling a little protective over the man he called his rescuer. Like a brother might be over a younger sibling, though Dorian had none, he suspected that this is what it must feel like.
He pours a drink for Soubi and then for himself, not knowing what the younger man liked in particular he went with an easy brandy.]
Are you doing alright?
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I'm fine, [he answers, watching Dorian as he does. There's something more here, isn't there? He glances at the drink that's been poured, considering for a moment before he lifts it. He doesn't often drink, but he finds himself curious about the taste.]
Beyond the strangeness of Deerington... I'm fine.
[Absolutely, completely, wholly fine.]
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I met a young man with a sadistic streak, ears, tail...and a very interesting perspective on how they treat their partners. [Dorian didn't catch his name.] I say interesting, but I mean disturbing.
[He took a sip of his drink before setting it down and leaning back in his seat.] You don't have to say anything if you don't want to, but one conversation with him and I learned quite a bit, enough to be concerned.
[He's aware that Soubi is an adult and he could associate with whoever he wanted.] I just wanted you to know that I'm here if you need...well...anything at all really. I won't go anywhere.
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There is nothing to be concerned about.
[This isn't the first time he's had some semblance of this conversation. Not the first time someone has approached him after meeting Seimei. Kio hated him, was glad when he thought Seimei was dead. He shivers and decides then to take a long drink from the glass he's holding.
Eventually, he lifts his gaze to meet Dorian's again.]
I have been Seimei's since I was seventeen.
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I see you, how bright and clever you are, your quiet compassion and the hurting [Dorian doesn't miss it when he observes Soubi.] I won't push, because you've your right to your own autonomy and space in your own thoughts, but I cannot help but be concerned about those words. When I told him how mages were treated in parts of my world he seemed to think they were good ideas, it's very telling.
[It's definitely not Soubi he questions, but Seimei and his treatment of Soubi.]
I don't claim to understand what that means [being someone's] it sounds like possession or ownership.
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[Autonomy? If only Dorian knew. The idea of autonomy is so foreign at this point in his life, young as he is, that he doesn't know how to want it. Soubi knows what Seimei is, maybe better than anyone. But, until very recently, he could not imagine a life without Seimei there.
His gaze flicks up to Dorian's.]
What did he say to you?
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[Leaning back in his chair and taking a more relaxed posture Dorian took a sip of his drink.]
He doesn't appear to view you that way, more like chattel or property.
[As someone who had to learn how wrong it was to own a person, Dorian can recognize how one can normalize something like that.]
We had a brief conversation about how some mages are treated where I come from, the Saarebas are treated like prisoners within their own body adorned with heavy pauldrons and chains, their faces covered with visors, their mouths sewn shut, or tongues cut out [the Qun had terrible practices when it came to mages] aside from being entombed in their own bodies they are constantly leashed to a keeper, Arvaarad, and if they are found astray, even by accident, they are killed.
[Dorian wasn't one for frowning, he made an effort to always have a pleasant air about him with the people he liked, but he was deeply concerned and this was a rare situation for him.]
He seemed to think this was a fine idea and that's when I knew I had to reach out to you. I don't like the idea that I might have put a wicked notion in his head, before fully understanding his connection to you.
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Sewing my mouth shut would defeat my purpose, [he says, as if that is any consolation to what Dorian has just told him.] And I am his. Wholly. That is what I am.
[Not who he is, what he is. Though even as he says it, he knows that there is a fracture in that.]
And if he hurts me, there is purpose in it.
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[Dorian doesn't miss the bit at the end where even Soubi refers to himself as an object or a what and not a who.]
What purpose could there be in hurting you? What is the net positive, the greater good, the advantage in doing that? [Because Dorian can see no net positive other than selfish motivation.]
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[Dorian isn't the first person to look at him this way. Kio did. But he didn't expected Kio to understand, nor does he expect Dorian to. This is his life. This is all his life has ever been.
And he doesn't know what to do with his doubts.
Soubi looks down at his glass and runs his thumb along the edge. He knows that other pairs don't function this way. But all of those other pairs have lost to him.]
Seimei wanted me. I owe him everything.
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[When Dorian spoke these words they were clipped almost like he was spitting every single syllable out.]
These are impossible standards you see, because it assumes people have no flaws and every single flaw, every aberration is unacceptable, it must be hidden. I was a prodigy, among inventing time magic I am the closest that anyone has ever gotten to curing the blight in our world, I also came into my magic at a remarkably young age and my control was beyond exceptional [Doian's boastful, certainly, but he had a reason to be boastful, he was and is as good as he says] I had many successes, a good thing for my mentors because my successes are their successes. It also made me a right little pain in the ass, boredom and brilliance gave me a sense of superiority and I bullied those beneath me, or who I thought was beneath me. I was a little monster, fortunately, I grew out of it.
[And grew into something else.]
I also admired my father, I thought he was different, better than the others...the things he preached with such moral conviction: blood magic, the resort of a weak mind. Those were his words log that away. [Tilting his head back Dorian gathered his thoughts in a way that was digestible and appropriate.]
Growing pains happened and I became more aware of the things my family wanted of me, the best of me, the best for me...the best for themselves and their legacy...anything for that. I would have to follow this path they'd designed for me without question, marry the girl, bury my feelings, and live my entire life as a lie. [Dorian had no interest in such constraints and even less interest in marrying the girl, or someone he didn't love.] Living a lie, it festers inside of you, like poison. You have to fight for what's in your heart. For a long time, I was poisoned, always drunk, out of control, combative...I could care less about legacies or achieving the best. Being the best was superficial if I had to spend the rest of my life fighting for the scraps of my own existence.
[And Dorian is still self-destructive at times, but he's also incredibly self-aware...and aware of others.]
Needless to say, my family couldn't have that, my father...who I thought would understand, who I thought loved me enough to understand imprisoned me and intended to perform a blood ritual on me in order to change me, make me acceptable, control me...all in the name of being the best. Wanting the best. Maintaining the very best of appearances. [Dorian leaned forward in his seat, drinking the glass before pouring a third] I learned some important lessons...sometimes the ones you love are also the ones who disappoint you the most. You think if they love you they wouldn't want to hurt you. It becomes very difficult to untangle the love from the hurt and so you keep on hurting because you think hurting is who you are.
[Dorian pauses here taking a sip.]
You deserve more than scraps Soubi, just because he wanted you doesn't mean he deserved you.
cw: description of scars
There are parts of it that strike him, the familiarity of being pushed, of being considered special. A prodigy. A bright future.
It becomes very difficult to untangle the love from the hurt.
Soubi sets his glass aside and slides his cigarettes out of a pocket. He doesn't immediately take one out, but that is his great desire. A familiar comfort. And, in the same breath, a thing that ties him to someone he would sooner forget.]
I didn't have a family, [he says quietly, distant and still not meeting Dorian's gaze.] My parents died when I was young. I was taken in by a guardian. Someone who knew my mother.
[Ritsu. The mere thought of him sends something twisting through Soubi. A feeling he can't articulate. He slides a cigarette out of the pack and tucks it between his lips. He pauses long enough to light it. And if Dorian wants him to smoke elsewhere, well. The conversation will just have to move. Or risk ending.]
He was all I had. He was my entire world.
[He rubs his thumb against his bottom lip. Normally Soubi is quite still, but now he is struggling not to fidget. He doesn't want to talk about this. He doesn't want to think about it. He doesn't want to consider what his life might have been because there is no point in it.]
I was blank. I had no destined name. No other half that would someday find me.
[Here, in this opulent house, in a dream or nightmare or whatever this place is, Soubi considers speaking the thought that has lived in him for a long time. He takes a drag, lingering over it before he exhales.
He can't.
Silent, he tucks his cigarette between his lips and holds it there so both hands are free. He unwraps his neck, revealing the scars: crude barbed wire or thorns around his neck. The word Beloved.]
cw: description of scars
I won't say you're lucky because you're not, if what I've seen in your memories was anything to go by then your guardian was a piece of work.
[When Dorian is honest, his honesty is typically frank and without any hidden messages. If this guardian was who Dorian surmised he was then the man was shit.]
I'm sorry that your entire world revolved around a person who had no idea how to appreciate you, Soubi.
[Dorian would have said more, but for the first time Soubi began to unwrap his bandage and reveal the scars that the mage was already aware of but hadn't seen. It was hard to look at, not because it did anything to defile Soubi, but because Dorian couldn't imagine that there was any genuine consent that went into being marked in such a way.
It made him think of cattle branding.]
Amatus [Dorian said slowly reading the word Beloved that was carved into Soubi's skin. To him the word is a term of endearment, but there's a kind of bastardization when he sees it carved onto someone. Like the meaning was changed.]
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Seimei's name, [he says quietly.] A blank Fighter can be named once.
[Even as he says it, he thinks of Ritsuka. And he realizes that he doesn't care if it means going against this name for the rest of his life: he would dedicate himself to Ritsuka in a heartbeat. He has, in a sense, no matter how much Seimei's presence complicates matters.
Soubi leans to tap his cigarette against the empty glass. Then he sits back. Perhaps the only reason he can bear to even think about revealing more is because Dorian has already seen so much.]
I don't know what he will do here. [He's quiet for a moment, speculating far more than he ever would elsewhere.] If does not have an enemy, he will find one.
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I assume that there is a sense of irony in that being his name? [Or vanity] Is it necessary to Carve it into the Fighter's skin, I got the impression that it wasn't, just his...expectation.
[And it was even more vexing when Seimei said it was Soubi's choice, maybe it was, but somehow Dorian didn't get the impression that it was wholly Soubi's choice. He probably assented to the demand because pain was an expectation and it was a bit part of his life. What's a little more pain...but was it really a choice?
Dorian couldn't imagine it. A slave could choose to be subjected to all sorts of things willingly for freedoms or rewards, but there was still a power dynamic and years of systematic abuse and manipulation. Had there not been any of these things in the way would the slave be able to choose more freely for himself.
There were mind traps at play and Dorian considered them all when he looked at the scar.]
I don't enjoy complications [Dorian confessed simply] and I certainly don't go around courting conflict [he does enjoy relative ease in his life] but if he harms you, physically, mentally, or otherwise [and I find out about it was left unspoken] then there may be a few words between us.
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[So, he assumes, that marking a blank fighter always means literally that: putting the chosen name somewhere on their bodies. But he doesn't know, and likely never will. Seimei's method might have been cruel, but it was his choice. Wasn't it?
He looks up when Dorian makes that last remark, as it sounds like a thinly veiled threat. Maybe not for violence, but something. And he knows that if Seimei feels the need for protection or offense, he will pull Soubi into this. In the end, Seimei's word is law. Whatever he might think or feel or want, Soubi has not been able to break that deeply ingrained need to obey.
Soubi rubs his bottom lip with his thumb and he considers all of the scars that Dorian has not seen. Ritsuka asked - commanded - that he show them once. Only once.]
I do not want anything to happen to you.
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[Because Dorian is naturally curious about such things, especially because it's magic and it is a kind of magic that operates very differently from his own.
There's also the fact that the more he knew the better in this situation, the better he would be able to engage, and the better he would be able to protect Soubi if it came down to it. It had crossed his mind that someone like Seimei might attempt to use Soubi to hurt him, might even attempt to get them in an opposing situation.
So the more he knew the better and the one thing Dorian had up his sleeve was Necromancy and Spirit magic, his two branches of magic that had been unaltered...clearly, this world approved of magic that inspired horror.]
I don't want anything to happen to you either, Soubi, and I hope that if there is ever a case then the matter can be settled diplomatically. I'm certain the boy was also made to be what he is, not born that way, and I can sympathize to an extent [but Dorian's compassion only extends so far] but your well being is a priority.
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[He flicks more ash off his cigarette.]
Blanks don't have a destined name. They don't have a partner waiting for them. They have all the potential power of any other Fighter or Sacrifice. They can take a name once. Ritsu said they could replace partners that had died, or be used if one never surfaces.
[He sits back more, partially curled in on himself as he rests his heel on the edge of the sofa, knee against his chest. Soubi is not so convinced that Seimei wasn't born the way that he is. He's been this way for as long as Soubi has known him, and, he suspects, for as long as Ritsu had.]
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[That was the gist of what Dorian was understanding anyway. Dorian does want to understand as much as he can, especially if he wants to be able to help Soubi in the event of an incident.
Still, he can see that this is a very difficult conversation for him to have just by the way the younger man curls in on himself in the corner.]
Hmm...I'm here and I'll protect you...but I can see it's a bit much and we can leave it if you like.
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[Soubi snubs out his cigarette and leaves it in the glass he's been using as an ash tray. He picks up the discarded bandage to wrap it around his neck again, winding it carefully. Even when the scar isn't exposed, it's still like wearing a collar. A constant reminder.]
It's not me who needs protecting.
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[Dorian doesn't require any verbal cues to cast a spell, it did make battling other mages something that was quite strategic. Dorian also understood the mechanics of this world where not all abilities worked the way one imagined, but Dorian came into this world with a select set of abilities that...clearly this world liked and left them completely intact.]
You're right [Dorian said in a very chipper voice] it's anyone who attempts to hurt you that'll need protecting.