[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
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.