Matins

The Eastern Crown of Radenor.

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Hakon
Posts: 291
Joined: Thu Dec 08, 2022 12:01 am
Character Sheet: viewtopic.php?f=43&t=2309
Character Secrets: viewtopic.php?f=20&t=2314

Fri Dec 30, 2022 12:35 am

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Many people found being yelled at made them want to yell in turn. For Hakon, it was the opposite. Whatever fury he was feeling extinguished in the face of Vivian's anguish. What the lad described sounded, well, beastly. Exactly what one could expect from a godless nation like Daravin, but never mind that for now. For the first time, he saw through the gravid belly and the makeup and the big attitude, and saw just how young the man across from him was. He realized, with horror, that could have easily been him in that position had his father not fled back to the relative safety of Jorikford. It had not been far enough, but it had ensured Hakon had been safe from the sorts of people who had clawed and snapped at Vivian throughout the young man's short life.

"I wouldn't dare compare you to them, Vivian." He stated, his voice low, solemn, and even. "I merely meant that you are tempted into using your magic, and that it will lead to your corruption and your downfall if you are not careful. Many of my Magus peers here are such, though they are allegedly held in check by the Guild. I have been here long enough to see that rogues and iconoclasts cause great harm, but that even within these halls, Guildmages occasionally lose their temper or go mad, and those around them suffer for it. To be a mage requires control, always. To lose control is to invite danger upon everyone around you."

"This does not mean that magic is solely dangerous, but it's a powerful weapon, and many of the people who have it use it only to subjugate those around them. I don't think you're one of them," he added, because he didn't. Vivian could have taken the opportunity to hurt him just now -- they were alone, he'd let his guard down -- and he hadn't. While Hakon had little doubt that he was dangerous, it seemed like he struck defensively, to protect himself or what was important to him.

"I don't want you to become one, either. And by the Path, lad. I didn't comprehend how young you are until just now. I can tell you had to grow up fast. I'm not trying to tell you that you aren't an adult. Just that you should have had --" he was struggling to not just say that Vivian should have been brought to the Guild young, as he had been, and so he finished with, "support, and guidance."
word count: 442
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Vivian
Posts: 342
Joined: Tue Apr 12, 2022 9:50 am
Location: Amoren
Character Sheet: viewtopic.php?f=43&t=1882&p=8295#p8295
Plot Notes: viewtopic.php?f=16&t=2156&p=9611#p9611
Character Secrets: viewtopic.php?f=20&t=1891

Fri Dec 30, 2022 12:57 am

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Vivian rubbed at his eyes, trying to force his breathing into an even pattern. He was smearing his makeup, and he hated that just about as much as crying had made it run. He probably looked like a raccoon by now, and getting inky smears in his wounds stung worse. He should have known better than to open himself up. He hadn't been this vulnerable...to anyone. Not even to Alistair. Foolish of him to try, and he wouldn't do so again. He felt small, and ridiculous, and in some way he wanted nothing more than to be back in Daravin, drinking in an alley. Instead here he was, on the floor, in a heartless prison with a child whose father had abandoned him. Abandoned them both. He'd been an idiot to think Alistair had cared about him.

He couldn't get up off the floor by his own power, and he dared not ask Hakon to help him. Vivian planted his hands on the ground, and forced himself upright. Without magic. By sheer force of will he demanded his shaking legs gain purchase and support him, and he stood. He was wavering, and stumbled a bit, but he stood. He wiped at his eyes again, and went to fetch his clothing. He did need magic assistance to dress; as much as he hated to admit it he couldn't even pull his own pants up without a tendril or two. "I didn't have support, or guidance." he said quietly. "I got the Entente."

Vivian took a deep breath and pulled his coat around himself. Never again.

Inside he was screaming. He wanted to pull down the entire tower around him. He wanted to drink himself senseless and shout himself hoarse into a gutter. He hurt, but like all the hurt he'd experienced in his short life he crammed it down inside of himself. He forced a calm mask on his face. The same mask he gave customers and men who had beaten him. An utterly fake smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Goodnight then, Hakon."

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word count: 359
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