Backstage (MK, Sess)

[Nemesis]

December 26th, 2880
Mulian Hanging Gardens
8:00 AM

"I won't accept this!"

The shout echoed all across the courtyard, with such force that it sent the birds scattering to the skies. Nestled amongst picturesque trees, fountains, and smooth marble, Tasha couldn' help but wince at the outpouring of emotion... but offered not a word of support. The Alchemist's shoulders shook as she advanced on the throne, voice hoarse and trembling, somewhere between begging and threatening.

"I did as I was told! I brought him, the Xephon, AND a Britannian Prince - all back into our fold! I've EARNED this! He's mine-"

The Governor, seated on her throne, merely stared. Elen followed her gaze - and noticed her foot touching the foot of the great marble seat. The two Dotems on either side watched her with renewed interest, their red and blue forms moving slightly inward, like the jaws of a vice. Instantly, Elen stepped back as though she had been burned, her features flushing a pale white as she dropped to one knee, beads of cold sweat popping on her forehead.

"I-I apologize, great one. I spoke out of-"

"Elen."

The governor pinched her brow, and gave a long, slow sigh. It had been a day of surprises... joys... and at the same time, disappointments.

"As welcome as this development is... the state in which Raldon has returned is less so. I dare say you have inflicted more harm upon him than the outsiders. What reason does he have to trust us now, compared to them?"

Still not daring to raise her eyes, Elen spoke hurriedly.

"I can correct it. Please, just give me a chance. One night. None of it will be-"

"And you think you can merely tear out his memories, like so many ribbons, until nothing but adoration for you is left?"

It felt as if a knife was being twisted slowly in her stomach. She could feel Tasha's contempt on her back. Pride and certainty were fading, being replaced with shame and disgrace. How could this have happened?

"You know full well the limits of our craft. Were you not the one advising me against such drastic alterations?"

As her own words came back to bite her, Elen swallowed her tongue. The Governor continued, smooth and steady as ever. It was a confidence, a certainty that she'd never had, which only further rubbed salt in the wound.

"To invite one under the foul curse of the Geass into our land threatens disaster. I must meditate on how we are to proceed. You are to keep your distance from Raldon."

"But-!"

"You are far too invested in this, Elen. To delve into the mind of another is a dangerous art. One can lose themselves with surprising ease."

The accusation hung in the air over her head, like the sword of Damocles. Even Tasha raised an eyebrow, not having been privy to such information before. There was the sound of footsteps, and eventually, the tip of a staff touched Elen's chin, tilting it back up towards the light. The Governor extended a hand, helping the girl to her feet.

"You have been made to shoulder this burden alone for far too long. For now, rest. I shall handle this matter personally in your stead."

Elen blinked slowly, as their regent seamlessly shifted the blame onto her own shoulders and pardoned her insolence, all in one fell swoop. Perhaps she was right. She wasn't acting like herself. Some time to rest... might be just what she needed.

The Alchemist bent, and kissed the ring on the Governor's finger, feeling it brush her forehead gently as it was pulled away, and back into the light.

"...I understand."

 

[Nemesis]

December 28th, 2880
Elen's Quarters
11:18 PM

"What is this...?"

In a tucked away apartment on Viti Levu, a figure huddled under a collection of blankets. She shook terribly, the biting cold seeming to grip her no matter how much warmth she gathered about herself. Elenoa's eyes flicked back and forth in the near darkness, surrounded by books. Old books. Ones she'd gathered from the outside. Mere curiosities. Souvenirs, she'd thought. Something to while away the time, get her thoughts off... him.

But the pictures below, stretched out on the pages, seemed to recede away into the darkness like an infinite wall. Immutable. The faces of carved stone on their surfaces leering back at her. Judging her. The words on the pages as inescapable and certain as an apocalyptic prophecy.

Things she was not meant to know, yet had thoughtlessly trespassed.

"What's happening to me...?" She whispered, into the silence.

Even if she clenched her eyes, the images still stood out against her eyelids. As though they'd been carved in there. Ancient history. Words of truth, spoken from black-lipped mouths that now refused her sleep.

"Why? ...Why can't I remember...? Anything... Anything but..."

Her eyes flicked to the one thing giving her solace.

His face, in a photo frame, with her and Tasha. A fabrication, of course. Something convenient she'd crafted... hadn't she? It was impossible to tell what was real, and what was fake any more. Her fingers closed about the knife in her hands, a droplet of sweat trickling down her forehead, off her chin, to run down the length of its blade as she lifted it to her palm, shakily.

She had to know.

Sha had to.

"It's... it's blue... isn't it?" She said, a prayer to an unseen God.

But try as she might, she couldn't force it into her flesh. It refused to move... and eventually, tumbled from her grasp to the floor, as she let her head sink into her hands with a sob. Everything was falling apart. Everything was melting and twisting together, becoming something ugly, something obscene. The only thing she had left to hold on to, was-

"Raldon..."

---

December 29th, 2880
Tasha's Residence
1:18 PM

The end of the Christmas season likely felt more muted to Mr. Lemuel. With free time to grade papers and prepare for the coming semester, his lodgings would have felt cheery as ever, despite the... distant nature of the building owner. Still, the tropical climate would warm the heart of even the man known to some of his students as the "Ice Prince" for his handsome appearance, and cool attitude.

Sure enough, as he would have made his way back to the villa-like home, with its curious statuary and locked electronic gate, a voice would have rung out across the stone patio - not quite loud, but the voice of a person whose ability to control their volume was questionable at best.

"If you want my honest opinion Ma'am, letting her get involved was a mistake."

The door clicked inward, and he would have been greeted with the sight of Tasha on the phone, he back to him, clad in a tank-top and shorts, sitting cross legged on the sofa in the strange, open-air equivalent of a living room. The Fijian coastline stretched away in the background, a shimmering, beautiful sight - and he might have been grateful, in that exact moment, for what a great deal he was getting on rent. One finger came up to her head, turning in slow, clockwise fashion, like she were winding a spring as she spoke:

"The gears up there are turning, but I don't know-oh. Gotta go."

Lazily, Tasha tipped backwards, unto her back with a soft pomf, looking at him upside down for a moment with an expression of mild surprise. One hand came up, giving him a catlike wave, one slow finger curling at a time.

"Bula, teach. Done for the day already?" She asked, ever the nosy one.

 

[MKR]

December 28th, 2880
Tasha's Residence, Bathroom
6:12 AM

Vigorously moving a toothbrush back and forth was the exchange teacher, brought to Fiji for the sake of teaching English. Another long day was ahead of him, to his side was a small cup of water and a collection of pills. With tired eyes still waking up he looked at them.
Better to take them than not he reasoned, didn't want to have an episode in front of the kids that wouldn't exactly paint a good picture of the world beyond the isle. The toothbrush was put to the side and a first sip of water used to rinse the rest from his mouth as he rose in front of the mirror once more.

Where suddenly he would find an extra pair of eyes staring back at him, two blue dots that looked at him. Skin as light as his own, a rarity around here and a familiar visage he could not for the life of him place.
It spoke, through his head rather than his ears.
"Lets expedite your recovery shall we?"

Lemuel turned to look at the figure but when he looked it wasn't there, instead he felt a pain in his hand. When he turned back, to the mirror the phantom boy was gone but for some reason his water bubbled as if it had been heated. The pills he had put in there moments prior seemingly evaporated. Still, he continued on with his routine. This was why he took the meds after all.

---

Lemuel walked through the gate, the past few days had been weird for him. A reality asserting itself, reasserting itself, everything breaking at the seams as even a glance up would reveal the shrouded nature of existence here. Yesterday had been worse for him as he was uncertain, the struggle raged between Mr. Lemuel and the Crown Prince of Britannia. Today a victor had been decided, the latter wore the skin and the guise of the former. Still the return was a gradual one, a switch had not been flipped magically restoring his sense of self, no, this was a continued reclaiming of his identity or what he believed to be that.

On the other end there was the defeated personality, not erased, not in the slightest. He still felt the tug of the simple wishes, the happiness about low rent. The festiveness of the season, that voice that incited him to simply take the medication because he was a sick man. Schizophrenic they told him, that teachers voice had tried to convince him of it as well. Clearly his existence was proof, the Teacher had said, that what he knew was truth. The statues that floated in the air proof of hallucinations as they started when the medication stopped and this being of a so called prince a mere delusion that expanded from a single nickname.

Yet if that were the case, why did the children call him different names as if he was a lost loved one, why could the Teacher not remember from where they came except 'the mainland', this had been the internal conflict. Both sides attempting to bisect the story of the other for parts that didn't or wouldn't fit and at the end of it the Prince came out on top. Though calling it two personalities was false, it was more akin to two stories that led to the same person.

"Afternoon Tasha, apologies I didn't mean to interrupt." He said with an apologetic smile, this sort of banal apology came naturally for reasons he could only guess at. "But yes, where I am from the holidays don't tend to be this bright so I figured. While I am here I may as well enjoy it."
He took a step towards the oceanfront, putting his suitcase to the side.

"Most of the grading is done anyways so that helps."
That and some chats with the students which had those cases of mistaken identity, those eager to confide in him that something had felt missing. Conversations of interest he made as banal as possible using them to get information about every corner of the island, after all if they wanted to talk to someone he was there. In cases like that being an outsider was helpful.

But the thing that stuck out in his mind the most was that stick, he remembered sitting in front of a fireplace with a woman besides him. A fijian woman he felt nothing but disgust for and she carried a stick, an ungodly thing with a strange head and then... Snow. Entombment in ice. Easily discredited by the Teacher as further psychosis but to him, he knew that stick had been responsible he could feel it in his blood.

"I've barely had time to take in the sights either, so I figured: two birds, one stone." He paused a moment "Ah, are you familiar with the phrase?" He put on the voice he used in front of class for that last part, threatening a lecture about idioms should Tasha indicate a lack of awareness.

 

[Nemesis]

Tasha eyed the teacher wordlessly as he spoke. The silence dragged on for seconds, as she blinked slowly. As though she were assessing something unseen. Finally, she shrugged.

"Yeah. My Dad's from America." She drawled, propping up one head with her hand as she turned her attention back to a TV guide - the kind filled with colorful, trashy articles about the latest gossip. Yet even this action lacked enthusiasm, unable to quell the restlessness that was the price paid for her unusual vitality.

"...Language is a strange thing." Continued his student, eventually.

"There's a story I heard, once. That human beings once tried to make a great tower, one that reached all the way to Heaven, so they could be equal to God."

There was the soft fwip of pages being flicked rapidly, all the worthless words therein fluttering in the wind under her fingertips as she spoke.

"But God, fearing their power, cursed humanity to speak different languages, and scattered them far and wide."

Snap.

The magazine clapped shut, as Tasha narrowed her eyes.

"How ridiculous." She said, almost under her breath.

"What would a God ever have to fear from the likes of us?

... Even so. There are always grains of sincerity, even in these old folk tales. The truth is always stranger than fiction."

Her head tilted sideways, and she affixed Lemuel with a curious, contemptuous smile, returning his tone to him, with a lightly mocking tone.

"I'm sure you're familiar with that expression?"

 

[MKR]

"Ah good." Lemuel responded to her statement about her father, nodding reaffirmingly before she continued on with her own story. One that caused him to pause and think. The Tower of Babel, as she accentuated her tale with auditory effects he raised an eyebrow at her words. Thinking on them for a moment as she turned her tone towards mockery.

"The version I heard was different. Not one about the fear God felt but instead one that spoke of His wrath at humanity thinking themselves His equal." He answered, "Yet all versions of the tale I know of have the tower remain in ruins, whether God left it as a reminder or whether he could not destroy it is up to interpretation. A word that gels quite well with that expression of yours. Interpretation, words carried through tales or books are subject to how the reader sees them or hears them."

"Is God afraid, or angry?" He seemed to contemplate this topic for a moment "Or is He incapable of feeling either, merely acting on instinct like an animal defending its territory." He shrugged, moving on from the topic as he gave her a smile. "Alas I didn't study theology so the most I can offer there is interpretation of the words, not the divine."

His eyes followed the waves of the ocean, looking towards the horizon as he did so. To himself he wondered how far it stretched on, above loomed flying cities which he gave none of his attention at this moment. Not eager to have Tasha aware of his glances going elsewhere, if the pills were justified she didn't need to know he was off his meds and if they weren't she certainly didn't need to know he was off of them.
"Putting the heavy topics aside, while I am going to be out later need me to fetch anything?" He asked, returning his gaze to her and the topic to the banal. "It'll be the least I can do after the hospitality you've given me."

If she was going to be out as well it would be all the better for him, after all if that stick was here he could venture a guess what part it would be stored in. The one he would have no reason to visit, and in fact would be very strange if he did visit.

 

[Nemesis]

"Whatever. That stuff's too complicated for me anyway." Sighed Tasha at Lemuel's explanation, feigning a yawn.

As if the entire episode had been nothing more than a facade.

Or, perhaps, a slip of the mask?

At the sound of Lemuel's offer, however, she instantly brightened, clasping her hands beside her head and giving him a winning grin. She leapt up from the couch, and darted towards the kitchen, swiping something up from the countertop before wheeling back towards him.

"I'm SO glad you asked!" She trilled - and a piece of paper was shoved under his nose.

Sure enough, in Tasha's own (unusually) twirly and flowery, nigh-indecipherable script, there was a list of groceries that extended almost the entire length of the A4 paper it had been folded and printed on. He might have been reminded that out here, even the technology was behind what he was used to on the mainland. All the staples were listed - protein, protein, more protein... it was hard to imagine how any one person could go through so many eggs in one week.

"Here you go: the house shopping list for the week." Tasha said, evidently glad she had someone else to fob the task off to as she put her hands on her hips.

"We're not charging you rent, right? Make yourself useful, freeloader!"

 

[MKR]

Lemuel watched her run off into the kitchen, noting the sheet of paper brought towards him. And that it was filled to the brim. Dear God did he notice it was filled to the brim, the basic seven partially represented in a most egregious way as he put a hand in his hair at the sight before him. This was going to severely hamper his plans if he fully went along with this which was an issue, but also an opportunity.
"Now I know your parents are out, but eating like this can't be healthy for you." He shook his head "Even worse, look at the writing. This is why I need to take at least twice as long grading your homework Tasha. It's all over the place as well."

His fingers rested on his brow as he looked at the paper.
"Also freeloader? Do the things you learn in class hold no value?" He shook his head "I'm going to take a shower, and when I get back from that we're going to make sure this list is legible." the threat loomed in the air, hanging over Tasha like a damning storm cloud "Having people be capable of reading your handwriting will be infinitely more valuable to you than you realize!"

He put the paper on the table, stepping back to his suitcase and opening it before bringing out a notebook. Lemuel carefully ripped out a few blank sheets of paper with horizontal lines and took a pen out of the bag afterwards. "You're free to get started while I shower, in fact I recommend it."
He put the paper and pen next to the original copy on the table. Looking over to her with a nod. Not even waiting for her answer he continued on. Perhaps Tasha would feel this was some grandiose retaliation for the list in front of him but regardless, a new burden had been placed on her shoulders as much as she had put one on his.
"Good? Great. I'll be back in a minute." with that he left the room, heading towards the showers as promised.

 

[Nemesis]

"Eh? Eh? Hey! What's wrong with it?"

The sound of the young woman's protests would likely have been drowned out by the rushing of the hot water, as she barked at him in a fashion not unlike an oversized chihuahua. Despite her snobbish attitude, she had generally treated him well since his arrival... perhaps even a little jealously, as word of the handsome foreigner had gotten around, winning him no small amount of admirers.

Sure enough, when he exited, he would have found a copy of the note, begrudgingly written in more legible print, prepared in what must have been record time. There was no sign of the girl - perhaps she'd had other business to attend to? The magazine she'd been leafing through was left unattended on the couch, the wind gently blowing its pages.

 

[MKR]

Refreshed, cleaned and ready Lemuel called out to Tasha. Given the complete and utter lack of reply he took the paper. It appeared she left in a hurry, all the better for him. One short exhale later he put the paper inside his bag before heading further into the building. A part of him felt very bad for doing this, as this was certainly a violation of his host's privacy. Something an entirely different pantheon than that of Babel took very seriously, but if he hadn't gone insane and he was right. Then this was no violation but rather a prison break.

All he needed to do was find a stick like that to verify everything and in here, the place to look would be Tasha's room. Remembering the size of the item he saw that woman carry helped immensely, the search was now fully underway but at the same time if she returned before he was ready or if he never found anything. He couldn't have her know that the bedroom had been searched. He needed to take care to not disturb things too much. At least at a cursory glance.
It wouldn't fit in his bag either and he didn't want to be seen carrying it around. So should the item be located it would instead be his pants which would house them.

 

[Nemesis]

Lemuel's footsteps echoed through the house, almost as loud as the pounding in his ears as he slipped through the door to Tasha's room. At first glance, it appeared to be a painfully ordinary girl's room - albeit one with a well-worn punching bag and a variety of exercise equipment scattered haphazardly across the floor - but closer inspection revealed it was anything but. Rows of books that had blank pages, decorative ornaments, a bed that looked barely slept in, clothes that were hardly worn.

He'd only managed to scratch the surface. How could he even be sure that the desired device was within?

As his search led him through a chest of drawers, the sound of a door opening in the distance would have alerted him - he wasn't alone.

"Fantasha?"

The voice that spoke would have made even his blood run cold. That of the supreme leader of the Mu. The so-called "Governor", and Raldon's mother. The sound of her heels click-clacking against the floor.

"I've come to hear your report on our "guest" in person."

It was then that Tasha glided into view around the corner, ahead of the Governor - and stopped, meeting Lemuel's eyes for the briefest of moments, going between the clothes his hands were currently enmeshed in, and back to his face in seconds. Her gaze registered surprise - but it was quickly quashed, and she paused leaning against the wall as she gave an apologetic bow to the older woman.

"My apologies, Governor. It's... not quite ready yet."

"Is there a problem?"

Tasha paused, letting her gaze slide back to Lemuel. Almost imperceptibly, a smile tugged at her lips as she raised a hand, as if covering her mouth for a cough - but her mouth moved, speaking silently to the outsider, as if automatically assuming he could read her lips as his life hung in the balance.

Is there?

 

[MKR]

Deer in a headlight was not quite correct regarding the sight presented to Tasha, or Fantasha as the Govenor called her. If anything the dialog outside had reaffirmed to Lemuel who he was, and wasn't. Which meant this wasn't a mere case in going where he wasn't supposed to go, but an encounter with people who had robbed him of himself. The peculiar state of the bedroom already implied as much but this was the closest thing to proof barring an escape.

The glance that returned was harder than the one she had met prior. He slowly but clearly shook his head as she asked her question, indeed a man that could read lips. A useful skill for social gatherings where all matters of import were spoken of in hushed tones across the room, out of sight. Calmly he retreated, he was dead to rights if they acted regardless so he made sure not to make this look like an attempt to flee while still moving into the closet with haste and quiet. Why the one who was presumed to be his warden did this was unclear but he could not be cornered worse than he was already so in he went and quietly he closed the door. Breaths were slow, regulated and quiet. Yes he could be robbed of himself at a moment's notice again but confronting that in any significant way meant enticing the pressure of this situation to break him. There was no need to test if this place's 'God' was an angry one.

As he quietly listened, he at least had time to get everything straight. His story and the role assigned to him in this theatre play, not that knowing one was right magically made him remember all, but he knew what sort of person he was now and he knew it for sure.
'Ice Prince', someone had called him that before. Just the once, not a nickname he was familiar with but all the same it left a sour taste in his mouth. A distain for the one who spoke those words to him. He suspected his captor given the nickname here, likely something to hang over him as a reaffirmation of control. No longer heir, but merely Ice Prince.

 

[Nemesis]

The interior of the closet smelled like dust, the tiny particles tickling the edge of Lemuel's nose as he strained to hear. Muffled voices continued speaking. though it was difficult to make out more than a few words from his current position.

"... to it... idol... Elenoa..."
"... Raldon?"
"... concern... duty... ...memory..."

The conversation drifted away into the distance, and there was the faint click of a mechanical lock. Yet still, he held his breath, unable to silence the treacherous beating of his heart, so loud that it might draw his captors to him once more, and whatever freedom he had managed to preserve in his moment of greatest weakness would be torn from his grasp like a child's toy. An ignominous end, for one with such promise.

Perhaps he wondered what they would put on his tombstone? Such thoughts likely danced in the Prince's head, his own breath and the claustrophobic nature of the closet increasing the temperature with each passing second, until beads of sweat ran down his forehead.

Finally, mercifully, there was the sound of an engine starting in the distance, and of a car pulling away. There was the sound of rapidly approaching, unshod footsteps, and then...

Air. Light. The coolness of the room entered Lemuel's self-imposed prison like a liberating gale, and with it came-

WHUNCH!

The sound of flesh meeting drywall echoed throughout the room, as Tasha's hand speared through the opening, planting itself directly on the wall beside Lemuel's head. Her lithe, sinewy body blocked his escape, somehow managing to cut an intimidating figure despite the difference in height, a smug smirk on her features. Like the cat that caught the canary.

Her other hand came up, holding something thin and red between thumb and forefinger, shaking it gently before his eyes:

A pair of lacy, surprisingly girly panties.

"Really?" She asked, as if trying to hold back a laugh.

"A teacher, rummaging around in his own student's underwear drawer?"

She clicked her tongue, a gentle tsk-tsk as Tasha shook her head back and forth... but her eyes were somewhere else, looking up at him in a new, not entirely disapproving fashion. The undergarments dropped from her fingers - and instead, went to his chest, admiring the musculature beneath as she leaned in, close to his ear.

"Scandalous." She said, coyly.

"Whatever shall I do with you?"

 

[MKR]

Raldon, one of his students currently away... Also a young man he recalled meeting in a hospital. Perhaps that's why he was he was discussed, hearing the Governor leave was a relief but that left him with the more pressing concern, the one who had actually caught him. He was ready for just about any form of blackmail to be hung over his head, life in exchange for some ludicrous payment. The door opened, the hand slammed besides him causing him to back up slightly further as he still had to look down on the woman who would be hi- What. He blinked once to recover from his stupor as his intentions had been massively misinterpreted... In his favor.

Somehow. SOMEHOW. The thought of being seen as a pervert, or rather a comparison to his father's scandalous nature brought him greater fear then the death of his ego, or at least it did for a moment. In the same sense regretful memories washed and passed, combined with the desire to have done something less idiotic in them. Still, unfortunately, every misinterpretation was an opportunity.

"And yet," he spoke, before leaning down himself "you don't seem to mind the sight." he felt dirty even doing this for a multitude of reasons, but here he was. And so was it, he inhaled calmly. Pushing his chest outwards against her touch, letting her feel it as he did so. His hand moved forward, to her side.
"Or the touch~" he leaned in harder as he spoke that last part letting neither her hand or ear escape in the moment. "And a host, cornering her guest? It seems you like to cause quite the scandal yourself." He calmly stepped forward, intending to move her with him as he moved out of the closet and into the room proper. His blond hair hanging by his side as he did so.

"But yes, exactly what will we do about these scandals." affection, especially that of a physical nature was potent. It made rational folks irrational, and made people do things they normally wouldn't. Already Tasha had missed her chance out, so she wanted in. And if she let him in as well.
It could be her greatest mistake.