[Maxima cannot, in fact, be found in his office. Lighter is still in there. If Flins finds the office before he finds Maxima, he'll be informed that Maxima is on enforced vacation and is probably around the Fortress somewhere, but he'd better not be doing any work.
For better or worse, Maxima's pack instincts are also kicking in this month, making it difficult for him to isolate in his room as much as he'd prefer to. So he can be found out in a quiet corner of a common area, somewhat restlessly flipping through the pages of a paperback novel that's almost uncomfortably small in his hands.
His canine ears will perk up in acknowledgement of Flins' presence a little bit before he actually turns to look at the man.]
This is a welcome surprise. Lighter told me you dropped off your monthly reports already.
[Ah, so this is where the good man has found himself. Lighter had let him know of Maxima's return, and also that he was on 'forced leave', even if that leave was wandering the halls of the prison. He'd only just passed a big window facing outwards towards the sea that his head towards the source of the voice that called out to him.
His yellow eyes, as eternally exhausted as they look, squint with contentment.]
Sir Maxima... our paths finally cross after such a long absence. [His voice tilts, a joyful tone taking hold.] You might say I...missed our little monthly catchups, and decided to lurk the halls of Meropide once more to seek your company. [His eyes close, smile spreading across his lips.]
You are correct. Lighter took my report with the utmost professionalism and grace, and we had a fine conversation to boot.
Is he perchance your understudy? His wild aesthetic aside, he would do quite well for the role.
[Maxima seems...tired. A little bit on edge, never quite able to fully relax. And he's usually good at concealing his moods from people, so if his ill-ease is visible, it must be significant.]
That's very kind of you.
[He doubts that Lighter had the same opinion of their interaction, based on the brief discussion they had and what he knows of Lighter's general attitude toward paperwork, but as long as Flins is content with how it went, he's not going to fuss about that.]
He's...a good friend. He claims he's unsuited to leadership, but I've found that if he isn't pressed to accept any official acknowledgement, he performs quite well at it.
[Very much like how they're going about not naming other things. Don't think about that.]
Modesty is truly such an admirable trait. I often find the ones who are quick to second guess their ability to lead are often the most trustworthy. It means they take great care in their decisions, and how it affects the people they are under.
[Too much doubt, though, that is weakness. It's a balance.]
I am. As it so happens, young Harumasa gifted me a 'phone'. [The way he says it, you'd think it was a made up terminology from an RPG.] Truth be told, I haven't touched it much. Technology, machines...they are something I'm still getting used to.
You certainly look worse for the wear, my friend. No doubt the reason Lighter is still in your office?
[The lines around Maxima's eyes speak volumes, and the way he almost looks like a a cat ready to bolt...certainly gets his attention. Perhaps he was not wrong in what he was feeling. He knew Maxima well--he would not show his fatigue unless it was unavoidable.]
Come, let me treat you to a drink. Is our usual haunt open at this time?
[The way Flins talks about his phone gets a little bit of genuine smile from him; for a moment, it's like he's listening to an Ilsabard Contingent volunteer baffled by a bit of Allagan tech again.
The reminder of home sweeps the smile from his face as it strikes more deeply. He doesn't want to think about home right now, either.]
If you'd like, I can help show you some of the functions. They're quite handy once you've gotten the hang of using them. [What would Flins find useful beyond the basics?] I imagine there's an app that can be used to track and identify ships at sea.
[At least Flins is more diplomatic than Lighter was about observing how worn down Maxima is looking.]
I'm afraid so. I don't know how much you've been filled in on recent events... [The people here didn't know the details before they returned, so unless Flins has heard from someone else, Maxima is aware that he probably doesn't know.] It's been decided that I should take some recovery time away from my work.
[Doesn't particularly sound like he agreed with the decision, but so it goes. He'll stretch and get to his feet at the offer of a drink, anyway.]
A drink while I explain the particulars sounds like an excellent idea. They should be open by now.
[That smile is a good sign. The best medicine for something that plagues the mind or heart. Flins has one to match, and there's a glint in those golden eyes of his, as a hand goes to his chest.]
Would you? How serendipitous. I had tried to navigate it earlier, but I fear I may have been a bother to Varian. He was set to enjoy his evening with a meal, and it would be quite rude to knock on his door yet again.
[And his smile only grows at the mention of this 'app'.] That...would actually be quite a boon. My eyes can track ships within Kaisou's vicinity, but the further they venture out into the ocean, even binoculars cannot reach.
[He gestures for Maxima to follow him, only for those hands to go behind his back at attention as he walks.]
I'm afraid I am in the dark as it were, but I have had an inkling that something was not right. The coastline has been ravaged by temperamental waves, and the gulls have been agitated up until a few days ago. Your absence, as well as the growing pit of unease in my chest only added to it.
[Had he been too lax in his guard? No...something tells him that this was beyond his scope.]
[Lesser-known social skills: convincing people who are used to life without a technology that it can improve the ways they already do things, even if they aren't enthused about adopting something just for the sake of novelty. Maxima's had reason to become an expert at it.]
Varian understands robots better than most engineers even back home, but he hasn't adapted to electronics quite as well. I'd be more than happy to show you what you need to know.
[But his expression becomes more grave as they come around to the point of the discussion, the fatigue showing again on his features.]
I can't see any particular reason for the weather to have been impacted, but...yes, the rescue expedition we set out on met with significantly more difficulty than anyone expected.
[He'll continue explaining as they make their way to the usual place; the waitstaff know them by now.]
We were told that, following an invitation to a festival of sorts, several Zodiac employees had gone missing, unresponsive, through the El Nido Spirit Realm gate. We went prepared for an investigation and possible danger, of course. ...When we arrived, the gate closed behind us, and we discovered that several other people from around Kaisou had been brought unwillingly, awakening on or around the beach at the time of the gate's closing.
That should, perhaps, have been the first warning of how much more amiss things were than we had understood.
[For a man who studied the sea, the intricacies of the waves were a language of their own. Perhaps it's similar to how sailors can understand what their ships are saying, or how gardeners can understand their plants. He pauses, letting silence take him as he listens.
And his expression grows more grave, only offering a hint of a smile as they get to their usual, greeting the staff as a gentleman would before making his way to the bar. If it was inside the Spirit Gate, then that explains why things went unnoticed both by him and Meropide itself.]
I see. When phrased like that, it is almost as if these Zodiac employees were the bait, and you were all merely ants led to a trap. [The more Flins thinks on it, the more it doesn't add up. It didn't explain why people were pulled randomly. Was there a quota to meet?]
They preyed off your kindness towards your fellow man to get you there, and then...shut the door behind you.
Something along those lines. Inducing a genuine call for help as bait in a trap...even if we'd had an idea it was one, the people here wouldn't have stayed away from it.
[It's something he enjoys about Kaisou, usually - everyone here is so eager to lend one another a hand. He shakes his head, settling into his seat.]
In the end, it turned out to be a single madman. A fellow named Baron Omatsuri, a pirate who had lost his crew in a wreck on the island and been maddened by the solitude. He'd found a plant that could create replicas that looked and acted like the people he'd lost...so long as he fed it with bodies.
[His tone as he gives his report is dull and dismal, as if sharing an unhappy story that had happened to someone else rather than a horror he's just finished living through.]
It also had some ability to manipulate our moods - he took joy in making everyone sensitive and irritable, causing people to turn on one another. Some began to fight amongst ourselves, others ran or wandered away. No one who was alone for more than a few moments in the jungle was seen again until the ordeal was over and the dead returned to life.
[It's something Flins has come to love about the people of this city as well. What started out as his curiosity at the Black Order's fall from grace soon became him enamoured by the collective melting pot of humans and the supernatural. All working together to keep people safe.]
It is humanity's greatest strength.
[His lips purse as the vodka is placed in front of them, his yellow eyes warmly thanking the barkeep silently as Maxima continues. Pinching his glass between forefinger and thumb, he listens.
So this was the work of a single man, acting alone in his madness. Bound by grief, so much that the lives of others were merely fodder, all in order to see the people he loved. That sort of devotion would be beautiful were it not so disgustingly tragic. If there is a silver lining in all this, Flins at least takes solace that the Wild Hunt was not at play here.]
Carnivorous plants often use scents and pheromones to attract their prey. It seems that by causing you to argue, or to wander, it split you from the 'colony', if we were to continue to liken it to ants. [He sips his drink, peering into the liquid a moment before he turns to look at Maxima.] Ah...my apologies. I should not be comparing your group to the likeness of insects.
[With a clearing of his throat, he continues.]
You stated that the dead 'returned to life'. How is such a thing possible?
[Surely they didn't fish the bodies out of that plant. That would still require putting the soul back in.]
As metaphors go, it's...unflattering, but perhaps not inaccurate.
[Not something he's going to be picking fights over, anyway.]
I don't really know. It doesn't make much sense, especially in the case of those who were killed by others in the group rather than by the Baron's folk.
[He'll take a long sip of his own drink, grateful for the grounding burn of the alcohol.]
But I'm glad for it. So many died...too many of them familiar faces. It would have been a terrible loss if they hadn't been returned.
[And yet, says a tiny voice in the back of his mind. If he'd known the dead would return, there's at least one person he might have spared the suffering of living to the end.]
[So the method truly didn't matter in the end. Infighting or being taken by these 'people' the plant had conjured for this madman, it all ended the same. He would have to do some research on this.
It's not something the Lightkeepers likely documented, though he could try visiting El Nido himself for clues.
For now, he'll sip his drink, the liquid warming him from the inside out, and the flame in his lantern glows just a bit brighter.]
I could not agree more. Kaisou's people are warm and kind, too kind to have such a gruesome end. I'm glad they were all able to return.
[From the way Maxmima speaks, it sounds like he wasn't one of the casualties either. Which only left one more he worried about.]
The Duke... was he one of the victims?
[He's quite fond of the overseer of Meropide, and he knows the Lady Furina was worried for him.]
[Maxima shakes his head, and his expression tightens again.]
No...no, we stayed together. Wriothesley and I were among those who made it to the end intact.
[They weren't on the best of terms by the end of it, but the sting of harsh words is easing over time spent apart, and away from that awful irritating pollen.]
But when everyone made it out, in the end... I wonder how many now are reckoning with words that can't be taken back? I think everyone who was there, survivor or not, will be feeling the effects of those days for a good while yet.
[That should be a victory, however small. Had it been for the worse, he may have taken that news a bit less normally than usual. But from the sound of it, just making it out alive wasn't enough.]
Wounds caused by words can cut the deeper than any blade. It is ultimately the steps taken to healing those wounds that will decide how relationships will proceed.
[He sips again, a smile spreading across his lips.]
But...I have faith that you will all grow from this experience. Humans are such tenacious creatures. They spring up like daisies in the snow.
[And next time, he'll be sure to help protect them in whatever way he can.]
Now then, if I am to truly keep up with Kaisou's current events, I should join the...what century is it now?
[He forgets half the time. Excuse him while he pulls out his new-used phone from his pocket (And not his lantern. Thanks Varian!). It's adorned in a very special phone case, too.]
We'll see how that comes to pass, in the coming weeks.
[He needs to figure out how to apologize to Takame, more than anything else.
'Like daisies in the snow' is an image that can't help but strike home, though. He's reminded suddenly of February, of an encouraging skeleton that handed him a flower and helped him to think of a society as something that lives and grows rather than something statically built. The same cool peace of that moment seems to wash through him once again.]
...You're right. It just needs time, doesn't it?
[That's why people were so insistent he take time off without giving him anything in particular to do with that time, wasn't it? For the same reason you plant seeds and then leave them alone to sprout. He's been forgetting again to think in terms of things that are alive rather than things that are built; it's a harder shift to make than he realized it would be.
This realization is also derailed by being asked what century it is. His brow furrows in mild perplexity.]
...The year is 2025. [He fills that in on enough forms, anyway.] I thought you were from this world?
Exactly, my friend. Time, and sometimes a little distance heals what words cannot.
[As contrary as that seems. He has no doubt the people of Kaisou will heal, and perhaps even learn more about each other through it. After all, once you've seen each other at your worst, what is left?
The Baron Omatsuri had chose wrong in his victims, in his humble opinion. He could almost understand the monster's grief--what he wouldn't give to see his Lightkeeper brethren again? Alas, the dead are dead, their bells have tolled and life must move on.
It's not until Maxima asks that, quite frankly, normal question that he lets out a lighthearted laugh, snapping out of his trance.]
My apologies. A lightkeeper's work is quite isolated, and the days, months...even years start to blend together. You remember what you had for breakfast yesterday, and then you realize that was actually months ago.
[Okay.]
Though this little slab of metal has a built in clock and a calendar? The world has become so convenient!
[As explanations go...well, it's a little odd, but so many people around here are odd to Maxima's understanding. Some of the ones who seem odd to him are actually perfectly normal to this world. Being an isekai, his calibration for this kind of thing is just too off to draw any actual conclusions except that Flins is a strange man.
And despite his strangeness, Maxima has never sensed any particular threat from him. Sometimes he gets the feeling that Flins could be dangerous, if he chose to, but he's never felt endangered, despite years of survival in a hostile social environment that have left him particularly attuned to that kind of thing. So, he can be strange if he wants to.]
I have heard that long isolation can be disorienting, true. It's a shame that you have to travel so far to visit.
[Flins' enthusiasm about the phone's features gets a little smile out of him. It's just charming.]
And much more than that, as well. May I see it? I can show you the features of those applications, and perhaps some others you may find useful.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
For better or worse, Maxima's pack instincts are also kicking in this month, making it difficult for him to isolate in his room as much as he'd prefer to. So he can be found out in a quiet corner of a common area, somewhat restlessly flipping through the pages of a paperback novel that's almost uncomfortably small in his hands.
His canine ears will perk up in acknowledgement of Flins' presence a little bit before he actually turns to look at the man.]
This is a welcome surprise. Lighter told me you dropped off your monthly reports already.
no subject
His yellow eyes, as eternally exhausted as they look, squint with contentment.]
Sir Maxima... our paths finally cross after such a long absence. [His voice tilts, a joyful tone taking hold.] You might say I...missed our little monthly catchups, and decided to lurk the halls of Meropide once more to seek your company. [His eyes close, smile spreading across his lips.]
You are correct. Lighter took my report with the utmost professionalism and grace, and we had a fine conversation to boot.
Is he perchance your understudy? His wild aesthetic aside, he would do quite well for the role.
no subject
That's very kind of you.
[He doubts that Lighter had the same opinion of their interaction, based on the brief discussion they had and what he knows of Lighter's general attitude toward paperwork, but as long as Flins is content with how it went, he's not going to fuss about that.]
He's...a good friend. He claims he's unsuited to leadership, but I've found that if he isn't pressed to accept any official acknowledgement, he performs quite well at it.
[Very much like how they're going about not naming other things. Don't think about that.]
I'm glad to see you're well, in any case.
no subject
[Too much doubt, though, that is weakness. It's a balance.]
I am. As it so happens, young Harumasa gifted me a 'phone'. [The way he says it, you'd think it was a made up terminology from an RPG.] Truth be told, I haven't touched it much. Technology, machines...they are something I'm still getting used to.
You certainly look worse for the wear, my friend. No doubt the reason Lighter is still in your office?
[The lines around Maxima's eyes speak volumes, and the way he almost looks like a a cat ready to bolt...certainly gets his attention. Perhaps he was not wrong in what he was feeling. He knew Maxima well--he would not show his fatigue unless it was unavoidable.]
Come, let me treat you to a drink. Is our usual haunt open at this time?
no subject
The reminder of home sweeps the smile from his face as it strikes more deeply. He doesn't want to think about home right now, either.]
If you'd like, I can help show you some of the functions. They're quite handy once you've gotten the hang of using them. [What would Flins find useful beyond the basics?] I imagine there's an app that can be used to track and identify ships at sea.
[At least Flins is more diplomatic than Lighter was about observing how worn down Maxima is looking.]
I'm afraid so. I don't know how much you've been filled in on recent events... [The people here didn't know the details before they returned, so unless Flins has heard from someone else, Maxima is aware that he probably doesn't know.] It's been decided that I should take some recovery time away from my work.
[Doesn't particularly sound like he agreed with the decision, but so it goes. He'll stretch and get to his feet at the offer of a drink, anyway.]
A drink while I explain the particulars sounds like an excellent idea. They should be open by now.
no subject
Would you? How serendipitous. I had tried to navigate it earlier, but I fear I may have been a bother to Varian. He was set to enjoy his evening with a meal, and it would be quite rude to knock on his door yet again.
[And his smile only grows at the mention of this 'app'.] That...would actually be quite a boon. My eyes can track ships within Kaisou's vicinity, but the further they venture out into the ocean, even binoculars cannot reach.
[He gestures for Maxima to follow him, only for those hands to go behind his back at attention as he walks.]
I'm afraid I am in the dark as it were, but I have had an inkling that something was not right. The coastline has been ravaged by temperamental waves, and the gulls have been agitated up until a few days ago. Your absence, as well as the growing pit of unease in my chest only added to it.
[Had he been too lax in his guard? No...something tells him that this was beyond his scope.]
no subject
Varian understands robots better than most engineers even back home, but he hasn't adapted to electronics quite as well. I'd be more than happy to show you what you need to know.
[But his expression becomes more grave as they come around to the point of the discussion, the fatigue showing again on his features.]
I can't see any particular reason for the weather to have been impacted, but...yes, the rescue expedition we set out on met with significantly more difficulty than anyone expected.
[He'll continue explaining as they make their way to the usual place; the waitstaff know them by now.]
We were told that, following an invitation to a festival of sorts, several Zodiac employees had gone missing, unresponsive, through the El Nido Spirit Realm gate. We went prepared for an investigation and possible danger, of course. ...When we arrived, the gate closed behind us, and we discovered that several other people from around Kaisou had been brought unwillingly, awakening on or around the beach at the time of the gate's closing.
That should, perhaps, have been the first warning of how much more amiss things were than we had understood.
no subject
[For a man who studied the sea, the intricacies of the waves were a language of their own. Perhaps it's similar to how sailors can understand what their ships are saying, or how gardeners can understand their plants. He pauses, letting silence take him as he listens.
And his expression grows more grave, only offering a hint of a smile as they get to their usual, greeting the staff as a gentleman would before making his way to the bar. If it was inside the Spirit Gate, then that explains why things went unnoticed both by him and Meropide itself.]
I see. When phrased like that, it is almost as if these Zodiac employees were the bait, and you were all merely ants led to a trap. [The more Flins thinks on it, the more it doesn't add up. It didn't explain why people were pulled randomly. Was there a quota to meet?]
They preyed off your kindness towards your fellow man to get you there, and then...shut the door behind you.
no subject
[It's something he enjoys about Kaisou, usually - everyone here is so eager to lend one another a hand. He shakes his head, settling into his seat.]
In the end, it turned out to be a single madman. A fellow named Baron Omatsuri, a pirate who had lost his crew in a wreck on the island and been maddened by the solitude. He'd found a plant that could create replicas that looked and acted like the people he'd lost...so long as he fed it with bodies.
[His tone as he gives his report is dull and dismal, as if sharing an unhappy story that had happened to someone else rather than a horror he's just finished living through.]
It also had some ability to manipulate our moods - he took joy in making everyone sensitive and irritable, causing people to turn on one another. Some began to fight amongst ourselves, others ran or wandered away. No one who was alone for more than a few moments in the jungle was seen again until the ordeal was over and the dead returned to life.
no subject
It is humanity's greatest strength.
[His lips purse as the vodka is placed in front of them, his yellow eyes warmly thanking the barkeep silently as Maxima continues. Pinching his glass between forefinger and thumb, he listens.
So this was the work of a single man, acting alone in his madness. Bound by grief, so much that the lives of others were merely fodder, all in order to see the people he loved. That sort of devotion would be beautiful were it not so disgustingly tragic. If there is a silver lining in all this, Flins at least takes solace that the Wild Hunt was not at play here.]
Carnivorous plants often use scents and pheromones to attract their prey. It seems that by causing you to argue, or to wander, it split you from the 'colony', if we were to continue to liken it to ants. [He sips his drink, peering into the liquid a moment before he turns to look at Maxima.] Ah...my apologies. I should not be comparing your group to the likeness of insects.
[With a clearing of his throat, he continues.]
You stated that the dead 'returned to life'. How is such a thing possible?
[Surely they didn't fish the bodies out of that plant. That would still require putting the soul back in.]
no subject
[Not something he's going to be picking fights over, anyway.]
I don't really know. It doesn't make much sense, especially in the case of those who were killed by others in the group rather than by the Baron's folk.
[He'll take a long sip of his own drink, grateful for the grounding burn of the alcohol.]
But I'm glad for it. So many died...too many of them familiar faces. It would have been a terrible loss if they hadn't been returned.
[And yet, says a tiny voice in the back of his mind. If he'd known the dead would return, there's at least one person he might have spared the suffering of living to the end.]
no subject
It's not something the Lightkeepers likely documented, though he could try visiting El Nido himself for clues.
For now, he'll sip his drink, the liquid warming him from the inside out, and the flame in his lantern glows just a bit brighter.]
I could not agree more. Kaisou's people are warm and kind, too kind to have such a gruesome end. I'm glad they were all able to return.
[From the way Maxmima speaks, it sounds like he wasn't one of the casualties either. Which only left one more he worried about.]
The Duke... was he one of the victims?
[He's quite fond of the overseer of Meropide, and he knows the Lady Furina was worried for him.]
no subject
No...no, we stayed together. Wriothesley and I were among those who made it to the end intact.
[They weren't on the best of terms by the end of it, but the sting of harsh words is easing over time spent apart, and away from that awful irritating pollen.]
But when everyone made it out, in the end... I wonder how many now are reckoning with words that can't be taken back? I think everyone who was there, survivor or not, will be feeling the effects of those days for a good while yet.
no subject
[That should be a victory, however small. Had it been for the worse, he may have taken that news a bit less normally than usual. But from the sound of it, just making it out alive wasn't enough.]
Wounds caused by words can cut the deeper than any blade. It is ultimately the steps taken to healing those wounds that will decide how relationships will proceed.
[He sips again, a smile spreading across his lips.]
But...I have faith that you will all grow from this experience. Humans are such tenacious creatures. They spring up like daisies in the snow.
[And next time, he'll be sure to help protect them in whatever way he can.]
Now then, if I am to truly keep up with Kaisou's current events, I should join the...what century is it now?
[He forgets half the time. Excuse him while he pulls out his new-used phone from his pocket (And not his lantern. Thanks Varian!). It's adorned in a very special phone case, too.]
no subject
[He needs to figure out how to apologize to Takame, more than anything else.
'Like daisies in the snow' is an image that can't help but strike home, though. He's reminded suddenly of February, of an encouraging skeleton that handed him a flower and helped him to think of a society as something that lives and grows rather than something statically built. The same cool peace of that moment seems to wash through him once again.]
...You're right. It just needs time, doesn't it?
[That's why people were so insistent he take time off without giving him anything in particular to do with that time, wasn't it? For the same reason you plant seeds and then leave them alone to sprout. He's been forgetting again to think in terms of things that are alive rather than things that are built; it's a harder shift to make than he realized it would be.
This realization is also derailed by being asked what century it is. His brow furrows in mild perplexity.]
...The year is 2025. [He fills that in on enough forms, anyway.] I thought you were from this world?
[Because Maxima isn't, and yet.]
no subject
Exactly, my friend. Time, and sometimes a little distance heals what words cannot.
[As contrary as that seems. He has no doubt the people of Kaisou will heal, and perhaps even learn more about each other through it. After all, once you've seen each other at your worst, what is left?
The Baron Omatsuri had chose wrong in his victims, in his humble opinion. He could almost understand the monster's grief--what he wouldn't give to see his Lightkeeper brethren again? Alas, the dead are dead, their bells have tolled and life must move on.
It's not until Maxima asks that, quite frankly, normal question that he lets out a lighthearted laugh, snapping out of his trance.]
My apologies. A lightkeeper's work is quite isolated, and the days, months...even years start to blend together. You remember what you had for breakfast yesterday, and then you realize that was actually months ago.
[Okay.]
Though this little slab of metal has a built in clock and a calendar? The world has become so convenient!
no subject
And despite his strangeness, Maxima has never sensed any particular threat from him. Sometimes he gets the feeling that Flins could be dangerous, if he chose to, but he's never felt endangered, despite years of survival in a hostile social environment that have left him particularly attuned to that kind of thing. So, he can be strange if he wants to.]
I have heard that long isolation can be disorienting, true. It's a shame that you have to travel so far to visit.
[Flins' enthusiasm about the phone's features gets a little smile out of him. It's just charming.]
And much more than that, as well. May I see it? I can show you the features of those applications, and perhaps some others you may find useful.