the real tragedy of the crimson troupe yaoi is that shalem should be 100% allowed to beat lucian with hammers and some part of him wants to but he can't he just can't and he can never let himself do it so instead he's just going to think really hard about how much he wants to beat lucian with hammers and feel some kind of bad about wanting to beat lucian with hammers and then it ends up with him wanting to beat himself with hammers too, and maybe it just all would be nicer somehow if everyone was beaten with hammers idk man idk. maybe. maybe. maybe it would help. help a little. maybe.
meanwhile lucian is completely fucking dense and clueless to how much shalem wants to beat him with hammers, and how much he kinda deserves to be beaten with hammers
the endgame of this, in my dreams, is that with lucian as the new tragodia and the existence that entails, he and shalem can now have all kinds of mentally ill tragic goresex. it would be terriblegreat for both of them. shalem can beat lucian with hammers all he wants/needs and lucian can't die and just has to take it and at some point during all the beating and bleeding maybe he'll finally think "wow. shalem isn't doing well." and maybe after several months of beating beaten with hammers he will also finally think "hm. yeah i deserved this."
wait hold on we can add shalem's salome + medusa theming into this. i think, perhaps, that shalem can and should cut off lucian's head. and kiss him lots and lots. and just fucking sob about it
anjyu was not doing well after the attack on the reach. but it was a different sort of 'unwell' than usual.
he met zenos in the flesh for the first time, and was thoroughly beaten down by him. he was struck by how odd zenos seemed to him, and yet, at the same time, he couldn't get a read on him, not really.
anjyu didn't feel like himself afterword. he wasn't sure who 'anjyu' was, or what he was meant to be.
he takes up a new creed as a dancer, for battle now, rather than show. it's funny, rallying the spirits of others, when his are running so low, so tired, so gray. but the movement is freeing and feels good, after the extensive rest he took after baelsar's wall was claimed.
by the time the scions are leaving for doma, he's spent quite a while not thinking as much about his makeup or personal care, instead masking it with hasty motions--if you can't truly focus on him, get a grasp on him, you can't see him, can you? not really.
his hair has grown to his shoulders. tataru points it out and it's the first time anjyu realizes it. he can't remember the last time his hair was long. of course he doesn't.
if he isn't feeling like himself, there's no reason to look like 'himself'.
traveling abroad in hingashi and othard, in what secrecy they can afford, anjyu opts for veils, hoods, headdresses. he's going to stand out no matter where he goes, on account of being viera, and having the tastes that he does--but he can at least try and look like a mere traveler or performer.
he can at least try to bundle up, and hide.
and then, the far east is surprisingly kind to him.
he makes new friends and companions. he takes in the sights. he tries new things. he smiles. he sometimes chuckles. he helps many people, and they help him. he dabbles in new hobbies and interests. tragedy doesn't seem as often, as familiar. it's odd. he finds a feeling of home away from home--when he doesn't truly know what is his 'home' to begin with.
eorzea is... so far away. so strangely long ago. this time, in this case, he feels parts of things slipping away... and yet he isn't as worried, for whatever reason. he is present, but he also isn't.
there are things that sometimes hurt, and those are the things that ground him, pin that slippery recollection back into place.
going into the steppe, he finds some version of himself again--the colours, the jewelry, the makeup, the stories and the songs. but he is called things, he earns new titles--and more than ever, none seem to fit right at all. is that him? is that him they're talking about, referring to?
it's time to retake doma castle. hoping for some degree of subtlety, anjyu dons a face veil, because it fits his idea of what he should be wearing for this operation--but also, subconsciously, on some level, he is trying to put some level of 'separation' between himself and this mission, this stress, this potential unrecoverable failure should it go awry; a kind of armour, comfort, and hiding spot all
during the ensuring battles, it slides off.
anjyu, who normally values his garb and adornments and his comfort--he chooses not to pick it up. he leaves it behind inside doma castle, knowing the castle may very well fall apart and he would never recover this part of his outfit. he confronts grynewaht and yotsuyu without his planned 'shield', and he watches gosetsu sacrifice himself with no way to hide his shock and his sorrow.
and immediately after--there is no time to grieve, not really. because this was a victory. sure, that tragedy is freshly seared into his mind, but, aa nation is saved. there is a populace to address. he has to face them, alongside hien, yugiri, everyone.
but he chose not to pick up his mask, and instead kept going. that one decision, so minor, and some part of him feels like he doomed himself with it--but at the same time, it's like a piece of him, some of his clothing, normally so precious, has been laid to rest with a dear friend, and so, he can't regret it. he can't. he can't.
so now he needs a new kind of mask, to pair with the other coverings he's taken to draping over his head. he doesn't want to stop to get a new one while still in the east and he frankly doesn't have the time. so, to push through his pain, to deal with it without actually dealing with it, he has to use what he has. and all he has is his face.
anjyu is suddenly far more expressive and ranged than he has ever been, and he is smiling, and it is forced and fake and numb.
when the scions return to eorzea finally, his hair is touching his back, and anjyu's eyes are bright and hollow. he doesn't remember why he's smiling to people. maybe it's a habit he picked up on the ship home. oh--he hasn't chosen a new outfit since doma castle. merely kept and used the same battle-worn attire all this while. he is forgetting 'himself'.
he aids in the fringes and the peaks with much reaction, much emotion. it's awkward and feels unusual, even if strangers can't place why. he's so glad to be busy. he doesn't need to think of much of anything. just work. just fight. just keep going. keep going. what for? right, because he has to. it's his job. right? that's who he is. that's 'anjyu', the warrior of light.
the people speak of "home". anjyu's home is... with the people he most cherishes, isn't it? that's his 'place', and his 'people'. but he gets the feeling his is something different than what they mean. is he doing this wrong? when he goes 'home', where exactly is he meant to go? the room that is his? the inn he sleeps in most often? his friends' houses?
he sheds tears when conrad passes on. when was the last time he actually, truly cried? is that like him? of course he's sad, and has been sad, and knows sorrow. but is he somebody that cries? does that mean he's broken somehow? surely he's cried, sobbed before. hasn't everyone?
and lyse tells him, no. he isn't. he is still anjyu, and he is her friend. she, who is like a sister to him, tells him he inspires her. no matter how he feels, she says he brings out the good in others.
and she inspires him in turn. he sees her resolve, herself as herself, deciding who she is and who she is going to be, in her homeland's, her family's clothes. he is inspired by cirina's blessing, to walk in crimson, to follow where there is life.
he readies for the lochs in crimson of his own, in proper armour--just enough, for his combat style--in his finest tools and weapons and jewelry and fabrics. he does his makeup. he looks in the mirror. he can't tell if he looks older or younger. just different. his hair isn't as curly when it's grown out. he only knows himself with curly hair.
he faces zenos. it is intense. it has no reason not to be, as all their encounters have been before.
he chases him down. he has no reason not to. this is what he has to do.
and then it's only the two of them.
zenos talks. he talks very much. and it is an oddly comforting thing, to not have to engage or respond. to just listen. it's like zenos knows this. like he's that type of person, himself.
who is zenos?
zenos explains himself. he lays his thoughts and feelings bare, and it is plain that some of them are things he is experiencing for the very first time. he is clear, and there is logic to the things he says. it does make sense. it is not impossible to comprehend. he makes assumptions, yes--but to him, they are observations. anjyu sees where he is coming from. it makes sense. zenos is not insane--few people truly are, anjyu believes. (that's a belief he has? he didn't recall.) there may be something wrong with zenos, but to write him off as a madman or even an animal is not logical.
is anjyu really only thinking of their engagement--their battles? that's just what he's supposed to do. no, when he start following that kind of path? has he been taking orders? from who? not himself, right? what exactly is he following? anjyu may not have any bloodlust or thirst for violence, but--why does it always come back to combat? to needing to put someone down?
zenos speaks of purpose, and he asks a response of anjyu. does he accept him as a friend, and a confidant?
anjyu can accept him. he can understand him. he can... identify with him, it seems. he does not judge zenos, not really.
but he cannot accept friendship from this man. this is too incompatible a request.
zenos is so happy to have been defeated. he is joyous. he has found something he never had, and it is obvious. he has expressed himself. he has felt.
he bids anjyu farewell.
anjyu feels so horribly seen.
when he steps outside of ala mhigo, the people rush to greet "anjyu", the "warrior of light". anjyu is tired, and he is quiet.
with me officially being halfway through the entirety of msq—thank you all so much for joining me in this journey in any way shape or form, whether you read my posts, like them, reblog them, party up with me, comm me for art of your own wols, ask about my experience, any of it. i am genuinely so honoured to have folk interested in my time with this journey, entertained by it, and most of all, invested in my characters. thank you ❤️
anjyu was not doing well after the attack on the reach. but it was a different sort of 'unwell' than usual.
he met zenos in the flesh for the first time, and was thoroughly beaten down by him. he was struck by how odd zenos seemed to him, and yet, at the same time, he couldn't get a read on him, not really.
anjyu didn't feel like himself afterword. he wasn't sure who 'anjyu' was, or what he was meant to be.
he takes up a new creed as a dancer, for battle now, rather than show. it's funny, rallying the spirits of others, when his are running so low, so tired, so gray. but the movement is freeing and feels good, after the extensive rest he took after baelsar's wall was claimed.
by the time the scions are leaving for doma, he's spent quite a while not thinking as much about his makeup or personal care, instead masking it with hasty motions--if you can't truly focus on him, get a grasp on him, you can't see him, can you? not really.
his hair has grown to his shoulders. tataru points it out and it's the first time anjyu realizes it. he can't remember the last time his hair was long. of course he doesn't.
if he isn't feeling like himself, there's no reason to look like 'himself'.
traveling abroad in hingashi and othard, in what secrecy they can afford, anjyu opts for veils, hoods, headdresses. he's going to stand out no matter where he goes, on account of being viera, and having the tastes that he does--but he can at least try and look like a mere traveler or performer.
he can at least try to bundle up, and hide.
and then, the far east is surprisingly kind to him.
he makes new friends and companions. he takes in the sights. he tries new things. he smiles. he sometimes chuckles. he helps many people, and they help him. he dabbles in new hobbies and interests. tragedy doesn't seem as often, as familiar. it's odd. he finds a feeling of home away from home--when he doesn't truly know what is his 'home' to begin with.
eorzea is... so far away. so strangely long ago. this time, in this case, he feels parts of things slipping away... and yet he isn't as worried, for whatever reason. he is present, but he also isn't.
there are things that sometimes hurt, and those are the things that ground him, pin that slippery recollection back into place.
going into the steppe, he finds some version of himself again--the colours, the jewelry, the makeup, the stories and the songs. but he is called things, he earns new titles--and more than ever, none seem to fit right at all. is that him? is that him they're talking about, referring to?
it's time to retake doma castle. hoping for some degree of subtlety, anjyu dons a face veil, because it fits his idea of what he should be wearing for this operation--but also, subconsciously, on some level, he is trying to put some level of 'separation' between himself and this mission, this stress, this potential unrecoverable failure should it go awry; a kind of armour, comfort, and hiding spot all
during the ensuring battles, it slides off.
anjyu, who normally values his garb and adornments and his comfort--he chooses not to pick it up. he leaves it behind inside doma castle, knowing the castle may very well fall apart and he would never recover this part of his outfit. he confronts grynewaht and yotsuyu without his planned 'shield', and he watches gosetsu sacrifice himself with no way to hide his shock and his sorrow.
and immediately after--there is no time to grieve, not really. because this was a victory. sure, that tragedy is freshly seared into his mind, but, aa nation is saved. there is a populace to address. he has to face them, alongside hien, yugiri, everyone.
but he chose not to pick up his mask, and instead kept going. that one decision, so minor, and some part of him feels like he doomed himself with it--but at the same time, it's like a piece of him, some of his clothing, normally so precious, has been laid to rest with a dear friend, and so, he can't regret it. he can't. he can't.
so now he needs a new kind of mask, to pair with the other coverings he's taken to draping over his head. he doesn't want to stop to get a new one while still in the east and he frankly doesn't have the time. so, to push through his pain, to deal with it without actually dealing with it, he has to use what he has. and all he has is his face.
anjyu is suddenly far more expressive and ranged than he has ever been, and he is smiling, and it is forced and fake and numb.
when the scions return to eorzea finally, his hair is touching his back, and anjyu's eyes are bright and hollow. he doesn't remember why he's smiling to people. maybe it's a habit he picked up on the ship home. oh--he hasn't chosen a new outfit since doma castle. merely kept and used the same battle-worn attire all this while. he is forgetting 'himself'.
he aids in the fringes and the peaks with much reaction, much emotion. it's awkward and feels unusual, even if strangers can't place why. he's so glad to be busy. he doesn't need to think of much of anything. just work. just fight. just keep going. keep going. what for? right, because he has to. it's his job. right? that's who he is. that's 'anjyu', the warrior of light.
the people speak of "home". anjyu's home is... with the people he most cherishes, isn't it? that's his 'place', and his 'people'. but he gets the feeling his is something different than what they mean. is he doing this wrong? when he goes 'home', where exactly is he meant to go? the room that is his? the inn he sleeps in most often? his friends' houses?
he sheds tears when conrad passes on. when was the last time he actually, truly cried? is that like him? of course he's sad, and has been sad, and knows sorrow. but is he somebody that cries? does that mean he's broken somehow? surely he's cried, sobbed before. hasn't everyone?
and lyse tells him, no. he isn't. he is still anjyu, and he is her friend. she, who is like a sister to him, tells him he inspires her. no matter how he feels, she says he brings out the good in others.
and she inspires him in turn. he sees her resolve, herself as herself, deciding who she is and who she is going to be, in her homeland's, her family's clothes. he is inspired by cirina's blessing, to walk in crimson, to follow where there is life.
he readies for the lochs in crimson of his own, in proper armour--just enough, for his combat style--in his finest tools and weapons and jewelry and fabrics. he does his makeup. he looks in the mirror. he can't tell if he looks older or younger. just different. his hair isn't as curly when it's grown out. he only knows himself with curly hair.
he faces zenos. it is intense. it has no reason not to be, as all their encounters have been before.
he chases him down. he has no reason not to. this is what he has to do.
and then it's only the two of them.
zenos talks. he talks very much. and it is an oddly comforting thing, to not have to engage or respond. to just listen. it's like zenos knows this. like he's that type of person, himself.
who is zenos?
zenos explains himself. he lays his thoughts and feelings bare, and it is plain that some of them are things he is experiencing for the very first time. he is clear, and there is logic to the things he says. it does make sense. it is not impossible to comprehend. he makes assumptions, yes--but to him, they are observations. anjyu sees where he is coming from. it makes sense. zenos is not insane--few people truly are, anjyu believes. (that's a belief he has? he didn't recall.) there may be something wrong with zenos, but to write him off as a madman or even an animal is not logical.
is anjyu really only thinking of their engagement--their battles? that's just what he's supposed to do. no, when he start following that kind of path? has he been taking orders? from who? not himself, right? what exactly is he following? anjyu may not have any bloodlust or thirst for violence, but--why does it always come back to combat? to needing to put someone down?
zenos speaks of purpose, and he asks a response of anjyu. does he accept him as a friend, and a confidant?
anjyu can accept him. he can understand him. he can... identify with him, it seems. he does not judge zenos, not really.
but he cannot accept friendship from this man. this is too incompatible a request.
zenos is so happy to have been defeated. he is joyous. he has found something he never had, and it is obvious. he has expressed himself. he has felt.
he bids anjyu farewell.
anjyu feels so horribly seen.
when he steps outside of ala mhigo, the people rush to greet "anjyu", the "warrior of light". anjyu is tired, and he is quiet.
