epidemiology | ( semi-closed )

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( semi-closed )

CHARACTERS: Achilles and pals
DATE: Shorty after arriving in Perdition's Rest
WARNINGS: Homeric levels of violence and gratuitous man muscles
SUMMARY: Miscellaneous adventures in the days following the crew's arrival. Subjects range from shopping for pants to flaunting gently used sexy clothing to slaughtering bandits.

[Assorted closed threads shall follow. PM me if you wish to plot together!]

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[ in retrospect, she could have planned this out much, much better. given each party more chance to prepare, perhaps, or — or something.

as it is, her emotions and the adrenaline of the day got the better of her, and an excitable discussion with lucina soon turned into a, would you like to meet him? and so here they now are, fluttering anxiously in the quieter part of town, by the arms shop (another thing that definitely lacked forethought), waiting as olivia fumbled with the magitek jewelry to send achilles a video call. ]

Um — Achilles...? Are you around...

[ she gives lucina a nervous smile, waiting for the man to pick up. ]

[ In the frankest of terms, Lucina isn't sure how to feel about any of this.

There's the childish part of her that speaks against the more rational side. This is her mother, regardless of what she remembers, and her mother must be with her father. The idea of her mother falling in love with anyone else is preposterous, because — well — it's her father, strong and proud and the most ideal man any woman can fall for, really. And Lucina's mother deserves no less than the absolute best; that much, she knows is true.

But at the same time, she knows that this Olivia hasn't fallen in love with Chrom yet, does not know of the events that are to come. It's a blessing in itself that Lucina was recognized in the first place ( sort of ). And it's obvious that her mother is happy with this... Achilles ( even if it's not her father ), and as a daughter, is there any more she could want?

So she agrees to meet him, reassures her mother with a smile that if it's someone who has made her happy, he must surely be a good man. She's still apprehensive; she stands half a step beside Olivia, blue eyes looking for some kind of response. ]

[As the sun begins to sink into the distant desert and the day folds in upon itself that night may unfurl, Achilles sits washing the day's dust from his body. Long had been the hours passed at the collapsed mine, rescuing the workers from its dark labyrinthine depths and mending their wounds. Although he considers the friendship of the Qorral to be a meager morsel, far from rich enough to truly satisfy, his heart is not so hardened that he would refuse to help as he once so scorned the war-loving Argives: it had been Olivia's distress that stirred him to move, and so too does he consider that his aid may win him the respect he so deserves from the wild-eyed Qorral.

At his feet sits a tin wash basin filled with water, into which he dips the washcloth. He then wrings it out and with it scrubs at his skin to clean away the layer of dirt that all over clings. It is as he wipes the cloth along the length of his arm that he receives the message from Olivia. He has expected that soon she should return to him, and so the warmth that tinges his expression is plain when he makes his answer.]

Indeed, dear Olivia - here I wait in these quarters we together share. Where are you now if not here at my side?

[The flickering image projected by the jewelry provides a generous view of his bared chest, upon which glistens the water with which he washes himself. He wears his tunic girded around his waist but unpinned at the shoulders, although this the framing of the feed hides. Although he had purchased garments such that the Qorral clad their bodies with, he stubbornly chooses his own native clothes when the day winds down and he seeks comfort more so than a shield from the omnipresent dust.]

[ ...or. you know. olivia could actually just die.

right there, where she stands, because the amount of blood rushing to her face coupled with the speed with which it does so is surely not healthy, nor humanly possible, yet there it goes, defying all laws of human biology, but it does, at the very least, offer another sight to gawk at other than her very seemingly naked paramour.

there are two full seconds in which all olivia can do is stare — wide-eyed and comical, with an expression that is both full of horror and grim resignation. because of course, of course, and also why gods couldn't she have just done audio instead?

two full seconds for her mind to simultaneously grind to a halt and kickstart in panic. two full seconds for the blood to drain from her face then come surging back. two full seconds for what little respect her future daughter might have had for her go slipping away into the abyss... never to be seen again.

because the magitek is what it is, there is no violent hanging up, no frantic tossing of any devices. there is, instead, a small dancer shrieking at the top of her lungs: ]

I'M SORRY WRONG PERSON GOODBYE!!

[ and the subsequent cancelling of the call with a hasty command of her mind. ]

Edited 2016-10-14 01:04 (UTC)

[ Somewhere out there, there's a Chrom who desperately hopes that Lucina doesn't get the misfortune of accidentally viewing the opposing sex in a bath. Unfortunately for that Chrom, his hopes are dashed to a billion pieces.

Lucina's not sure what she's looking at, to be honest. Her mind can't process the sudden screen popping up in front of her, or the fact that there's a naked man taking a bath in it. Her eyes widen, seemingly frozen on the spot, and she's not sure where to look. Her ears are heating up now — she's seen plenty of shirtless men in her life time ( the perks(??) of being in an army ), but something like this is.... way too up close and personal. ] Er—

[ Her confusion comes at the same time as Olivia's shriek. That has her jump back a few inches, arms raised as she flinches. ] Mother?! [ Dear gods, what the hell is going on here?

The man looked like he knew Olivia, responded to the name Achilles, and yet—?! ]

Edited 2016-10-16 00:00 (UTC)

[Lucina is not alone in her confusion, for when the flickering image of his lover vanishes so suddenly he too is left with naught but confusion in the wake of so strange an exchange. Unfortunately for Olivia, he decides immediately to return her call. Fortunately, however, this call involves no video, and so she and Lucina shall be spared the sight of his finely-carved pectorals. Only his voice rings out from the jewelry, although by his tone Olivia may well imagine the bemused look into which his features twist.]

Olivia, what mean you by this? For what do you shriek so loudly, as if you wish to stir all the town to alarm? I asked only where you are, as I've not had the pleasure of laying mine eyes upon you since we returned from the mine.

[All the while he remains unaware that there is another at Olivia's side.]

[ olivia, meanwhile, was having something of a Crisis. this was not how she wanted her future daughter to meet her current lover, especially when he doesn't happen to be... her father. (or perhaps she should count that as a small mercy? would it have been more distressing if lucina had seen chrom half-naked instead????)

in any case, when achilles' voice rings out once more, audible even to the young woman standing beside her, all olivia can do is groan miserably, reaching up to clutch at the sides of her head.

lucina... dear, sweet daughter... please forgive her for being so utterly foolish. ]

Achilles — [ her voice is strained, words pushed out from behind her grit teeth, ] — I'm sorry. I ... panicked.

[ she turns to lucina then, meeting the girl's eyes for a look of her own apology. ]

My... daughter is here. [ how does she even begin to go about explaining? ] From the future. She's here as an adult, just — here.

[ The last thing she needs to see right now is the sight of her ... step-father's(??????) "finely-carved pectorals", thanks.

For a soldier who's life has been spared multiple times thanks to her quick-thinking and reflexes ( along with a few fantastic comrades ), Lucina's having a really hard time trying to catch her mind up to speed. The next time the man's booming voice returns, she can at least figure out that he had been Achilles. Bathing. Oh.

And in that moment, Lucina has come to the realization that she just saw her mother's lover bathing. Dear gods, no wonder Olivia is acting this way. Her jaw tenses, and some part of her would... rather not remember the last twenty seconds or so, thank you.

Not that she feels any ill towards her own mother — she couldn't have been prepared for this. There's a small shake of her head, and a small, strained smile that hopefully calms Olivia down a little. What a serious of misfortunes. ]

... Hello, Achilles. [ Lucina speaks up after a moment, voice equal parts wary and guarded. ] My name is Lucina. [ And while Lucina isn't a rude individual by any means, and normally "it's a pleasure" would follow ... Apparently, not this time. ]

[It is fortunate that Olivia cannot see how his countenance hardens for this news which strikes as suddenly as would the lightning hurled by the devious-minded son of Chronus. Here is the daughter Olivia would one day bear by another man: here is a reminder that however fully they cherish one another, love is no less mortal than men, and he must one day leave her behind to meet his fate upon the Dardanian plain, thus descending into the house of Hades where his shade shall dwell forever more. And she seems destined to fall in love with another, thus leaving him as a memory for whom stories might be told.

Such is the fate of a hero, whose happiness seems always to flee his grasp in the end.

There follows a length of silence as he tries to comprehend how this can even be, that one not yet born might find herself here, as he tries to comprehend too the implications of such a strange revelation as this. After a moment he speaks with measured words.]

How strange the fortune of men can sometimes be - and how glad you must be for so rare a reunion, dear Olivia.

[He thinks on how he would want Olivia to welcome his own son, his dear Neoptolemus, were he to be taken into ALASTAIR's custody. He would hope that she would treat him kindly although he was born of another woman's womb, and so when he addresses Lucina at last he tries to warm his words.]

Well met, Lucina, daughter of Olivia. I must apologize for my immodest state which you lately saw, and I hope you shall forgive me if I have offended your maidenly sensibilities. For you see, I expected not to greet you as well when I answered your mother.

[ in the short span of time lucina and achilles greet one another, olivia cannot help the sensation of falling for an indefinite amount of time. the ground ripped out from under her, only to have the earth tower over her like walls closing in. guilt has always been an easy emotion for olivia, and here it comes in unrelenting waves.

how must he feel, she wonders, to have such a bomb dropped on him like this. how insensitive she had been, to let her own excitement cloud over her thoughts for the other. ]

That was my fault, [ she says at least, speaking up when the silence after his words stretches out too thinly. she cannot meet either of their eyes now, her own expression twisted into something pained. where she had just earlier looked upon lucina as a light in the distance, she cannot help but feel for the man whose own heart must ache over the thought of this tangible proof that their future is, indeed, only but a dream.

(and there had been a part of olivia, too, that had began to think... began to hope... that such a dream might have become reality one day.) ]

I'm sorry, I... should have planned this out better.

[ She wants to correct Achilles. By no means is does she love her mother less, or believe herself to be any more her father's daughter than her mother's. But since father's death she has always been "Chrom's daughter", equal parts an expectation to meet and a point of pride. The byproduct of losing her parents early is that she'd do anything to protect them — her mother and father equally.

Achilles addressing her otherwise feels like a stab to the gut, a man trying to push her father out of existence.

But she holds her tongue — she still stands by the fact that this is a man who has made Olivia happy when none of her family could. For that, she has something to thank him for, as reluctant as she is about all of this. She knows it would break her mother's heart more if she were to treat Achilles with hostility, and ... she still wants her ( them? ) to be happy. ]

... No, mother— [ She's ready to accept Achilles' apology, but it appears she's a moment too late. Instead she listens to Olivia, and the moment she apologizes Lucina's knee-jerk reaction is to fix it immediately. ] That's not true at all. I should have given you a moment, at least, to explain —

[ What part of her willingly stayed at Olivia's side like this? The part where she wanted to prove to this stranger that eventually, Olivia would go to fall in love with another man? That no matter what happens here, she will always be her mother? Gods— what would father say, if he found her acting this childish and petty, while she speaks of how she wants her mother to be happy? ]

... I apologize, Achilles. I understand that me ... being here is a cause for alarm. I did not wish to cause this.

Edited (and in this mess i forgot a word) 2016-10-16 21:08 (UTC)

[Among the Achaeans, men and women alike are marked by who their father is, and although each sex is admired for different virtues and skills, a worthy man's name may burnish both his sons' and his daughters' reputations to a bright gleam. He refers to Lucina by her mother's name only because he knows not what her father is called. Olivia had not once spoken the name of this man who is her husband in hazy memories that are not yet hers, and he now wonders if this is because his name feels like a curse she mustn't utter, or because it feels like a secret she must keep.

Yet perhaps this is not the only reason, for even if Achilles knew the man's name he would be loathe to speak it. His is a heart given to jealousy as kindling is given to flame, and given to stubbornness as is a mule that ignores the prod of the stick at its flank and follows its own desires. Were he to invoke this man's name he would be drawn forth from the murk of memories not yet formed and thus made all the more real, all the more inevitable, and so it is for the best that Achilles knows it not.

At present, however, he has his wife to tend to. His voice grows gentle as if he means to both chastise and comfort her.]

Fret not for what has already passed. I cannot fault you - for however strange the circumstances may be, what woman would not be joyous to see her daughter? Nor can I fault your dear Lucina, for who among us has chosen to enter service with the sons of Alastair? Nevertheless, such a meeting as this would best be held where we may see once another's faces. Allow me time that I may make myself presentable, but then presently should you return to our quarters that I may meet your daughter in a manner more fitting.

[ they are both kind, moreso than olivia feels she deserves in this moment. with such blatant thoughtlessness she has managed to hurt two of the most important people in her life right now, all in one fell swoop, and here they struggle to keep her afloat from her own guilt, but it is not a success she feels right in granting them.

but she does not press the matter, as willing as the both of them to press on onto the more important matters. though when achilles mentions their room, she feels a flare of panic, and her eyes once more dart towards the young woman at her side.

she has hurt lucina enough for one night, she thinks. she does not wish to flaunt her shared life with another man in a much more visceral way. ]

P-Perhaps you can join us outside, once you've finished, [ she attempts instead, her voice light. too light. ] The moon is so pretty, I mean... Maybe we can all take a nice walk together...

[ "Our room". Old habits die hard— this conversation is living proof of that. Lucina keeps her expression carefully neutral, the poker face she's managed to learn coming in handy for moments like these. Her shoulders may tense just slightly, and she may stand a little straighter than she had before — but these are tiny changes, barely noticeable to the bare eye. She can do this.

( But it hurts, to know that some version of her father is out there, waiting to fall in love with her mother. Resentment is an ugly thing, one that will continue to claw at her for a long, long time, regardless of what she knows is logical. Despite the guilt bubbling inside of her, it's still difficult to understand. )

Between these thoughts, she misses her cue to speak. Hopefully no one notices anything different, and if curious glances are thrown her way she answers them with a small near-smile, a soft expression she can at least pull off for her mother, if nothing else. ]

[He nearly insists that Olivia come to him, for it is proper that guests are greeted in the house, and at present the cramped wood-paneled chamber is the closest he has to a house. But there is some telltale snag in the fiber of her voice that gives him pause and thus makes him acquiesce to her peculiar request.]

Very well - I shall be outside the saloon in a little while. We shall speak further then, lovely-haired Olivia.

[So ends his message. Achilles takes his time with washing, for this matter weighs heavily upon his thoughts as storm-bruised clouds would lour over the wine-dark sea. As he draws the warm washcloth over his legs and at last his feet, he ponders how this seems a portent sent by the Fates to warn him that soon shall the light of his life dwindle and extinguish. The sort of life a man may share with a wife, who shall bear for him sons strong and daughters beautiful - this was not meant to be his after all.

As promised, he appears outside the saloon sometime later, away from the door where the noise from within is better muffled. His imposing presence is like a beacon even in the darkness that cloaks the town. He has returned to the familiarity of his tunic, the rich red fabric of which drapes his body, and to ward off the chill of night he has wrapped his broad shoulders in the mantle of purple and indigo. Such garments will likely seem strange to Lucina, for they are of a land so far-flung from her own.

As the women approach, he cannot help but lament that upon nightfall Olivia might usually have taken the chance to change into the chiton he had gifted her - yet it seems that he shall have to forgo this small comfort, the sense that she belongs wholly to him. Nor does he move to take her into his arms as he might on any other night, greeting her instead with a subdued smile.]

Now may I properly greet your daughter, dear Olivia.

[And he grants a gracious nod to Lucina. His eyes linger upon her, finding the features that seem to echo Olivia's, and leaving him to wonder which might mirror more closely her father, this man he cannot help but disdain although he knows nothing of him.]

Fortunate is the woman who inherits her mother's beauty as you have. Although this meeting is no doubt as strange to you as it is to me, I hope that you shall bear no ill will for a man whose lowest offense is loving your mother. You shall find that I have treated her as fairly as any man would treat his wife - I have protected her honor and every day strive to bring her but a piece of the joy that she has brought me.

Furthermore, just as I would wish that Olivia welcome my own son, my dear Neoptolemus, if ever fortune grants that I shall see him again - so too shall I welcome you, white-armed Lucina.

[ olivia still wears her alastair uniform, its impeccable white made dingy and dirty from the day's work. dirt, too, still clings to her skin, dusting her cheeks and making dim the usual luster of her hair. she finds it a bit funny, in the sort of way she does not feel like laughing, that the three of them should be dressed so differently — achilles in his garb of home, lucina in the familiar shades of chrom's deep blue, and olivia herself, wearing the emblem of the banner both now find themselves under... whether they like it or not.

it brings about a wry twist to the corner of her lips to think about, though the expression itself is wiped clean when achilles draws near and grants her a warm, albeit tentative smile. she returns it with one of her own, small and quietly grateful. her hands clench where she's got them laced before her, resisting the urge to reach out for his and grasp something sturdy, familiar.

she says nothing, the air between them all already thick, stifling. she has done enough, she thinks. she can only hope the other two manage much better than her. ]

[ And finally, Lucina's in her armor ( different shades of blue from top to bottom ), edges worn and weathered from how long she's been wearing it, but the upkeep she does on them make them look like they've gone through much less than they actually have. It's her pride and joy, despite it first taking shape when she wanted to take after the great Hero King — now it's something of her own.

It's times like this when Lucina's painfully reminded she's more than a soldier, or a leader of a revolution. She's a princess, technically an exalt of her own, no matter how long it has been since she had a kingdom to rule. And while that hasn't changed here, she recognizes how she needs to carry herself. Polite, noble, kind, just like her father described Aunt Emmeryn to be, once upon a time.

But she isn't Emmeryn. The anger she feels on her father's behalf is difficult to ignore, as is the resentment ( the fact that she sees him in person makes the feelings resurface, all over again ). She has to remind herself, yet again, that this is a man that has made her mother happy when her family could not. Which means that she needs to at least be kind of Achilles, since he was to her.

As in: she has to lie. ] ... I understand that these are strange circumstances, but I appreciate your understanding. [ Her expression doesn't quite soften, not like it would in front of those she cares for, but it's polite. ] It's a pleasure to meet you in person, Achilles.

[ There's a brief pause, and then, much quieter, ] Thank you for taking care of mother, when I could not. It is good to hear that... she is loved.

[He can feel how she resists him, as the wrought layers of a shield might resist the pitiless bronze of arrow heads that purpose to pierce through. He supposes that it is natural that a woman should honor her father so dearly that she doubts any man might match his worthiness, and that she should cherish her mother in equal measure, such that she wishes only for the fairest fortune to grace she who welcomed her into the world. For such stalwart fidelity he cannot fault Lucina. He can only hope to prove in word and in deed that his love for Olivia gleams as brightly as his honor as a man.

Still a smile shapes his lips yet its warmth does not quite fill his features.]

It is I whom fortune smiled upon when came your mother into my life.

[Or perhaps the Fates had lost sight of him for some time, and now at last has the sisters' far-seeing gaze settled upon him once more. Now at last they shall draw him back to the destiny that they had foreseen ere he was born, the destiny that he had fulfilled as water cannot help but fill a channel carved of the earth, which directs its course as it rushes onward.]

Thus it has been my pleasure to tend to Olivia in all the days we have together passed. Tell me, white-armed Lucina - how fare you in these circumstances so sudden and strange? Well do I recall the consternation which filled me when first I found myself in service with the house of ALASTAIR.

[This he asks for the sake of politeness, and because he knows not what other subject he might ask after.]

[ The worst part of it all is that they're actually very much in love.

It's like... watching her mother and father around the castle, when she was younger. Or them in the camps, in the present. Lucina might be extremely biased, but she's not blind. This isn't a show, Achilles' love for her mother can be seen in every single word he speaks of her, and Lucina finds herself equal parts angry and tired.

There's still an act to keep up, though. She tilts her head to the side, considering his words. ]

I — [ am used to this. Some parts of it, anyway. The timelines and saving worlds. But she stops herself in time, letting the small pause change her expression.

When she smiles this time, it's apologetic. ] ... I admit, it has been draining. [ Which is weird to admit, because not only is it a lie, she wouldn't say so even if it was true. But she's listening to the part of her that wants to leave here, now. ] They appear to be working towards a good cause, yet... [ She looks towards Olivia, then to Achilles. ] I wish I could speak with you longer, but it may have to wait for another time.

[ it has not been a terribly long time since this reunion between them has passed, and given the last memories olivia has of lucina is of a nine year old girl... it's safe to say that olivia cannot say she knows this young woman standing beside her very well.

still, there are little tells. the body has always been a language olivia had been gifted to be fluent in, and now combined with her empathy powers...

she can sense the other woman's exhaustion, though she knows it cannot simply be from the day's excursion itself. ]

Of course, Lucina, [ she is then quick to say, reaching out to rest a gentle hand upon the girl's shoulder. she did this to her, and though she wishes to know more, hear more, just experience more, she knows lucina has already given so much more than she could possibly ask for right now. ]

It's been a long day... you should get some rest. We'll speak again later.

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( semi-closed )

( olivia & lucina, shortly after the earthquakes )

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