Thaliak's Sisyphus [Journal/Story - OOC Welcome]

[Gegenji]

Eesh, it's been a long time - almost three weeks since my last post here, though a bit of what the grump has been up to was mentioned here. After some plotting and scheming, Rosewater has been defeated and both Gogon and An have moved on to the next phase of their life - hopefully one without the overhanging memories of Khamja. However, there are fragments still left to be dealt with and Gogonji's never been the sort to sit idle when there's still knowledge to be had. Where this ultimately leads is still unknown, but let's check in on where he is right now.

 

And, as always, I'm always open to comments and critique on my writing either in thread, PM, or RPC chat! I'm always looking to improve and provide an enjoyable story to whoever takes the time to read my work. And, continuing another tradition of this thread, here is the "writan music" for this piece:

 

JTPWBVsLKXU

 

 

 

Gogonji's fingers rested lightly on his forehead, splayed across its surface in such a manner that his middle finger brushed against the gem set in the middle of it. The stone was not one of the more familiar stones - such as emerald or peridot or even amber - but of moonstone. Used in the basis of many finer crafting tools, it should come as no surprise such a thing would be used to mark the next heir of the Gegenji line. In Eorzea, however, its polished glow brought to mind not only the moon, but also the god of knowledge - Thaliak. It was one of the few Eorzean deities that the Doman felt any sort of connection to, and he felt on the urge of mumbling some manner of halfhearted prayer up to the Scholar as he stared irritably at the parchment in front of him.

 

In the flicker of weak candlelight, strange and complex formulae were scattered across the paper's surface - the cast shadows transforming them into little creatures that seemed to dance and mock the Lalafell. Brooking no such insubordination from mere ink on parchment, Gogonji crumpled up the latest in a series of mathematical dead-ends, tossing it unceremoniously over his shoulder to join the rest that had taken up residents in and around the waste bin set there. He moved to grab a fresh sheet to begin anew but found himself hesitant, his spindly fingers retracting almost instinctively away from their goal. He had been at this for several bells now, and even this sun had been but one in a series of similar days spent pouring over geometries and equations. Each one ending the same - with all his failures left to become little more than added kindling to the fire that fought inexorably to warm his little cabin, tucked away amongst the icy cliffs of Coerthas.

 

And it seemed like this sun would be no different, as Gogonji pushed himself shakily from his desk - unconsciously making sure to avoid causing the grind of wood on wood as he did so. An lay slumbering in the bedroom, chased off to bed bells ago so that one of them at least would be able to face the morrow in a well-rested state, and the Doman felt himself unwilling to interrupt whatever dreams she may be having. Ever since the situation with Rosewater had come to a conclusion - with the Paladin returning to the aether consumed by his own rage and paranoia - the Plainsfolk woman had come to stay with Gogonji in his wintry safe-house. And, while he could not rightfully state that he disliked her presence here, it did mean there were several small things he found himself doing due to the addition of a second occupant. Well, third if one counted Ezra as a full occupant as well.

 

Some of the things weren't overly obstructive - keeping the place a little tidier, making two meals or cups of tea instead of just one, and ensuring the bed linens were fresh and clean. She oft helped with these, making these new additions to the daily events that much easier to take on. It was the other, lingering paranoia-based actions that he found a bit more worrisome. The slow migration of the more dangerous texts he had procured to the higher shelves, out of sight and mind, including a portfolio of his notes and diagrams for the Awakener and the Rousers. He had suffered treachery once before regarding those devices and, while he did not expect the same from An, hiding them away helped ease that illogical concern gnawing at the base of his mind. Not to mention putting an action to the thought of letting those suns become little more than fading memories.

 

His current project was also another thing Gogonji found himself being exceptionally cautious about. While An seemed oblivious to the lines upon lines of numbers and symbols scratched almost haphazardly upon the sheets of parchment, the Doman was nothing if not wary. Developing new magicks was a dangerous enough venture, even if it was a transliteration from one of the other schools of aetheric manipulation. Many of the books he had prised from the Great Gubal Library on the subject spoke at length of those who had misspoke or miscalculated by the smallest degree and suffered grave consequences because of it. And while Gogonji could rightfully say he had enough issues to deal with regarding the remaining fragments still swirling about in his mind, he also felt quite strongly that this was not something he wanted to drag his Plainsfolk cabin-mate into.

 

The past few moons had been just as hard on her - if not harder - than for the elder Gegenji brother. She had sacrificed much for him in his revenge-fueled quest against Garlemald, including taking the fall for him as he recovered from its less-than-stellar conclusion. From that, the insufferable Rosewater had managed to sink his claws into her - leading to her indentured servitude to the self-important Paladin. It had taken a lot of effort and manipulation to finally bring that matter to a close, and even now the two Lalafell were waiting patiently for any residual fallout to fade away into obscurity. The last thing either of them needed was another unnecessarily thrust into the spotlight - such as from a spell going horribly awry. This was a time for relaxation and reflection, as their little trip to the tea house and bath had neatly encompassed - though it wasn't without its own incidents.

 

And so Gogonji had spent much of his time studying and researching and crunching the numbers in the times An was away or asleep, to allow the Plainsfolk woman the time to recover. He had made several trips to the Runestone - some with An and some without - to quietly watch the combatants, seeking those who used the abilities he intended to replicate through Arcanima, but kept his reasonings for it purposefully vague. Unfortunately for him, those fighters that might've yielded useful data were either removed quickly by their opponents - perhaps due to their unwillingness to bring their full power to bear - or his potential observations were interrupted by outside distractions, such as with the Sultansworn-turned-Free Paladin Koporo Aporo (who, Gogonji noted, had been the source of a lot of recent irritation for both himself and An) or the obnoxiously verbose head of the pumpkin monopoly Gus Pumpkinweed. This left him with more irritations than substantial notes, his progress floundering in mathemagical limbo, and a general malaise he refused to admit to Annunu. And all through this, the fragment he had been seeking to rouse and ultimately aid him through all this - and the "cover" story he had been offering to his cabin-mate, since it was still technically a truthful statement - had remained stubbornly silent.

 

The Doman was not without his silver linings, however. The removal of Rosewater had been a monumental boon; with An's completion of her sentence and acquittal, the last remnants of Khamja's assaults were set to fade quietly into obscurity and allowing much more freedom for both of them. And while appropriate subjects for study had been few and far between at the Runestone, the upsurge in the use of Sharlayan Astrology had not escaped Gogonji's notice. He had been familiar enough with the Ishgardian version of it - even attempting some star readings on a fevered whim to ensure he had been prepared for everything come the four-pronged assault on the Garlean strongholds - but this style seemed to have many more... practical uses. Even now, he found himself calculating trajectory arcs and the degrees of aetheric deflection through simulation of gravitational lensing as seen in his last venture to Fesca's Wash.

 

Gogonji cricked his neck idly to chase away some lingering stiffness, and an errant thought came to him. Sharlayan Astrology seemed to draw its power from the stars, heavenly bodies affixed in the night sky, and used at least some degree of recognizable mathematics and scientific reasoning. Perhaps it could serve well as a manner of... practice... for him to attempt transliterating that into mathemagical formulae first. A bit of a deviation from repeatedly banging against his head against the aetheric wall he had been seeking to overcome for the past moon or so. Not to mention that it was another potential wellspring of knowledge and power to tap into even if he couldn't directly adapt it fully into the tenants of Arcanima - and one with no errant soul fragment attached to it to worry about.

 

It would be not unlike when he first stumbled across those texts on Arcanima back when he was but a youth, which set him upon his path for knowledge as he found what felt like the perfect use of his mathematical expertise. Just as it led him to the ancient civilization of Nym and ultimately the ancient mathemagical techniques of the Allagan summoners, perhaps this delve into Astrology could also open more doors to him. Not to mention that divining knowledge of future events through the positions of the stars, while a bit questionable in theory, could serve a great tactical benefit if accurate. After all, knowing what an opponent would be doing in the future is quite the asset.

 

A shadow of a grin curled at the edges of Gogonji's lips as he thought on it, his mustache twitching a little in bemusement as he hefted the waste bin towards the crackling fireplace. Such a distraction from his current stymied project might be just the thing he needed to escape from this mathemagical rut of his, and the Dunesfolk found himself rather eagerly considering how best to begin. Even as he tossed the crumpled balls of failure into the all-consuming flames, he mentally went over what texts he had on Astrology already from his brief dip into the practice and mused on what insights the Library could provide him. It as if the mere idea of all this was like a revitalizing cup of tea, leaving him focused and energized by all the myriad possibilities suddenly open to him. The Lalafell even had half a mind to whisk himself off to the Library right now and begin this new side-project of his immediately.

 

And yet, even as his mind was fired up and eager to go, Gogonji's body was just as quick to remind him of its own fatigue. The sun would be rising in a few bells and he hadn't had a lick of sleep since pulling something similar the previous night in another fruitless attempt to crack the mathemagical code he had set himself upon.  Even as he set the now-empty waste bin down, the Doman noticed his hands were shaking - and not just from the excitement of a new source of potential knowledge. Resting heavily on his cane, the Lalafell was forced to admit that he was in no position to make the journey to the Library - his energy was too low to make the aetheric jump and he was certainly in no condition to make such a lengthy journey on foot in the dead of night. As much as he wanted to jump into this new venue of research and study, Gogonji had to admit that it would be best to approach it fresh after a good night's sleep.

 

Still, even as he made his way to join An beneath the warm covers, Gogonji couldn't help but snatch up the couple tomes he had on the Ishgardian style of Astrology.  A little light reading on the matter before succumbing to slumber certainly couldn't hurt, and the refresher would be helpful for the following sun's itinerary. And so, as the the night crept towards dawn, the Lalafell appeased both body and mind in the soft sanctuary of his bed. He managed to make it halfway through the first of the two texts before sleep claimed him, and he fell back against his pillow with his glasses still on and the open book resting against the soft rise and fall of his chest. And so he dreamed; of stars and stratagems, of constellations and of knowledge yet to be obtained.

 

And in his sleep, next to An and with a new goal firmly set in mind, he shifted and murmured a noise that could possibly be considered some manner of contentment.

[Gegenji]

Another lengthy period of no posting, sorry about that - I don't honestly want to make a habit of this...

 

Though I can't say that nothing's been happening. Gogon ended up on a hunt for a runaway Coral member, held a party to announce "Tmesis Oan" taking on Annunu as a mate, and continuing his delve into the dark world of information brokering... He's been rather busy.

 

However, in all this, he's missed something a bit important regarding a... demand he made of his younger sibling. And it has come to his attention. And so we enter the scene...

 

Thematic music (that is in no way just because Undertale just has really awesome music, honest...):

8pCThaREBc4

 

 

 

"We must have words."

 

That was the phrase Gogonji used when he spoke to his younger brother over the linkpearl the stout Dunesfolk had given him. He hadn't made much use of it prior - Chachanji had a habit of being rather loose-lipped, so the eldest Gegenji child had found it prudent to not speak much on his ventures until well after the fact with him - but he found himself glad at having it given the circumstances. Moving to speak to his sibling at the Still Shore would likely cause... unneeded complications, as both the topic of their needed conversation and the rabid pack that defended her both made residence there.

 

So instead, the Gegenjis were set to meet at the airship cafe in Ul'dah. Already much quieter than the inane din that so frequented the Quicksand, Gogonji had made a point of finding a secluded spot away from even the meager collection of patrons. He had mused in retrospect that perhaps the cafe at the Toll might be better suited to the matter at hand, however it would also put the boy closer to the safety net of the family - ready to accept and baby him should he go running to them.

 

There would be no such escape here.

 

"U-um... I-I'm here ta meet someones," came the familiar childish tone to Gogonji's ears, and he was already set to wince for what he knew would follow next. "I-it's me brother."

 

So blase with information - the older brother noted with a distinct frown marring his features - drawing easily manipulated connections out for everyone to see. Gogonji had already been forced to deal with that John fellow and the ever-obnoxious Artemis using his real name instead of the one he presented to the public in every single one of their encounters. And that wasn't mentioning all the others who the boy had brought with him to the Castrum - they had his true name and a face to put it to. Fortunately, all of them had remained quiet while "Tmesis" started embedding himself into the intricacies of Ul'dahn noble circles. It was only that particular trio that continued to be the problem, which his younger sibling being the biggest offender.

 

It was no small wonder, then, that Gogonji's expression was less than kind when little Chachanji waddled his way over to his table - grimmer still than his usual dour expression. He nursed a cup of chamomile tea, hardly touched, as his younger brother clambered into the chair set adjacent to him. He took only the smallest sips as Chachan got himself settled in before speaking.

 

"You're late."

 

"A-ah, yeah, s-sorry, Go-nii," the younger sibling mumbled timidly, scratching at the fluffy mass of unkept emerald-hued hair that he had - for reasons beyong Gogonji's understanding - felt the need to highlight with a topping of ivory that made it look like he was forever returning from Coerthas' icy clime. "I-I was helpin' Ms. Momodi move some fruit crates from La Noscea, and..."

 

"I am in little mood for excuses, Chachanji."

 

"I-I ain't makin' excuses..." little Chachan countered, though he looked away and tapered off even as he said it. The boy had always been a terrible liar, a memory that threatened to melt Gogonji's stern expression as he mused on it. He was quick to strike it down, however. He had to remain firm, for Chachanji's sake.

 

"Whether it is an excuse or not, you are late," Gogonji restated neatly, taking another sip of his tea. "The juice I ordered for you has likely gotten quite warm now."

 

"A-ah, n-no! I-it's fine!" the youngest Gegenji asserted, taking a long sip of the obviously quite warm grape juice that had been left for him. He still did his best to at least look like he was enjoying the beverage, to his credit; even going so far as to flash a timid smile his brother's way as he finished. "S-see? I-it's good."

 

"... Very well," the elder brother relented, setting down his tea cup. "I assume you know why I called you here, yes?"

 

The stiffness that sharply entered the younger Lalafell's frame was proof enough that he did. It was not unlike the time the boy had snuck into Gogonji's bedroom for a late-night story, and had gone straight as board when he heard the sound of their father traversing the hall to use the restroom. The boy was like an alerted hare, ready to dart to its burrow at the first sign of danger. Gogon had chosen the location well, however - there was no such "burrow" within easy reach. And so he had little choice but to face the matter at hand.

 

"V-Virara?"

 

"Virara," Gogonji echoed, his tone heavy. "I have been... informed that you have been in contact with her, despite my wishes. I would like to know why. Now."

 

Chachanji fidgeted in his seat, suddenly unable to maintain eye contact with his brother. The violet orbs that they shared seemed eager to take in anything but the steady gaze of his elder sibling. Gogonji had half a mind to reach across the table and force the boy's attentions on him, but the furniture had been made for the use of much taller folk and thus made such options difficult. Instead, he settled for rapping the handle of his cane neatly against an upturned palm."

 

"Now, Chachanji."

 

"W-well, sh-she's me frand."

 

"Friend," Gogonji corrected without missing a beat, continuing on. "It is pronounced 'friend,' Chachanji, and no she is not."

 

"Y-yes she is!" the boy snapped back with a surprising amount of energy, though he recoiled after doing so. The elder brother's mustache drooped some, framing the deepening frown on his features. Again the handle of the cane tapped against his upturned palm, garnering a small wince from Chachanji.

 

"No, she is not," Gogon repeated firmly. "She is a wild beast that refuses to be tamed. Your attempts at 'friendship' with her have only resulted in you being hurt for your efforts. It was a mistake for me to task her with your protection."

 

"... Y-you what?"

 

"In return for aiding her in her aetheric imbalance, I bade her keep watch over you," the elder Gegenji explained matter-of-factually, leaning forward a bit as he did so. "To protect you while I recovered. It was a mistake. I am seeking to correct it."

 

"I... I dun need no 'protector,' Go-nii!" Chachanji objected, again with surprising fervor. "I-I'm th' one halpin' folks!"

 

"'Helping.'"

 

"That's what I said."

 

"No, it is not," Gogon corrected, again with his firm tone. "And you do. Look what happened: you sought to chase after her for Twelve knows whatever reason... and you ended up nearly breaking your legs in the process. Or did you so easily forget your time bedridden and forced to wear those braces?"

 

"N-no, I haven't..." the younger sibling admitted weakly, like the mewling of a couerl kitten. "B-but I-I talked it out wit Virara. Th-things are better now. I-it's akay."

 

"Is it?" the elder Gegenji child canted his head to one side, raising a brow. "She has not been punished at all for her selfish actions, has not suffered any loss for her blatant disregard for your wellbeing. Given your... unwavering willingness to 'forgive and forget,' how long until she uses you again to her own benefit?"

 

The cane clattered solidly on the tabletop as Gogonji leaned forward again, fingers wrapped tight around the shaft. While his tone had been relatively even, the intensity behind it had been quietly building as he spoke. The words that followed came out in halting spurts of thinly restrained displeasure.

 

"That. Is why I forbade you... from being near her," he stated neatly. "That. Is why... you cannot see her. That. Is why... you will obey me this time, and sever all future connection with her."

 

"N-no!"

 

"Yes."

 

"No!" the boy repeated emphatically, going so far as to slam his gloved hands against the tabletop, drawing the unwanted attention of the other patrons of cafe. And sending the remnants of Gogonji's drink sloshing about in the teacup, sending some spilling over the side to stain the wood dark. The elder brother was not happy with either.

 

"You will watch your tone, Chachanji, when we are in public."

 

"B-but..." little Chachan blubbered, the beginnings of tears forming at the edges of his eyes. "V-Virara's me frand! I... I dun want ta not see 'er no more..."

 

"She is no friend, Chachanji," Gogon corrected again, both the boy's horrible little mishmash of Eorzean accents as well as his statement on the matter. "We have already spoken on this. She will do naught but harm you, and since you will not keep away on your own, I will enforce it instead."

 

"B-but... I dun wanna!"

 

Gogonji made a face. The boy was being too childishly resistant, and his blubbering would only continue to cause a scene and draw unneeded attention. He settled back in his chair, seeking to both take the reins of the conversation again as well as quell the emotions in the air.

 

"It is... for the best, Chachanji," he explained to his sniffling sibling, eyes furtively flitting to the gazes still sent their way. He felt not unlike a parent with a screaming infant in the middle of a well-to-do restaurant. It was not pleasant. "There will be others, now stop acting so childish."

 

"No," Chachanji repeated again, eliciting a heavy sigh from his elder brother. "N-not until ya let me 'n Virara stay frands."

 

"Is this how it's going to be, then?" Gogonji snapped, frustration creeping into his tone again as he gesticulated with one hand. "You're, what, seventeen summers old now? Nearly eighteen? And here you are throwing a tantrum like an infant because you cannot get your way."

 

"I-I am not..."

 

"We are done with 'discussion,'" the older brother stated with finality, descending from his seat. He clacked his cane once neatly against the floorboards of the cafe. "Come along."

 

"W-where are we goin'?"

 

"Home. You will be staying with Annunu and I from now on. That Free Company of yours is obviously toxic for you, I should not have let you remain there - rabid protectors or no. Another mistake I seek to rectify."

 

"N-no!" the boy wailed again like a petulant child, drawing attention back upon them again. "I dun wanna! I wanna stay at Coralhaus!"

 

"It is the Still Shore, Chachanji, and its name is apt," Gogonji corrected for a third time. "It is a stagnant locale where only pests gather and breed - like a swarm of chigoes, seeking to feed off any foolish enough to remain near. A den of filth and disease, and wholly unsafe for the likes of you."

 

"I-it is not!" Chachan snapped, rubbing viciously at his reddened cheeks to drive away the tears. "C-Coralhaus is full'a nice peoples! L-like Ms. Jancis 'n Mr. Tau 'n Ms. Certia! Y-yer jus' mad because they wouldn't let yer grumpy butt in!"

 

"... What."

 

"Ya heard me." The younger Gegenji thrust an accusing finger in his older brother's direction. "Ya cause all these pro'lems fer ev'ryone 'n then yer upset 'cuz Coralhaus won't let ya in a'cuz'a it."

 

"I don't even know where to begin on correcting you on your multitude of errors," Gogonji sighed, shaking his head. "But we will have time enough back home. Come."

 

"No."

 

"I said come along, Chachanji."

 

"You can't make me."

 

"This is an order as both your older brother and heir to the Gegenji name."

 

"... Y-yer only one'a those, y'know..."

 

"What?" That statement got the elder brother to turn around and face his younger more fully. The boy was standing rather adamantly at his chair, having refused to budge as soon as he learned his brother's plan for him. Stubborn and unyielding, like their father. And that irked him.

 

"Y-ya may be me brother, Go-nii, but ya ain't heir no more. Didn't ya notice, or were ya too busy bein' a meanie?" Chachanji murmured as he lifted his messy jade bangs to reveal the gemstone affixed to his forehead. In Dunesfolk society, such a symbol usually was merely to display the moon of their birth. For the Gegenji family, however... "After ya ran away from home, Papa named me th' new heir ta th' name, s-so there."

 

It was as if Gogonji's legs were kicked out from under him, and he leaned more heavily on his cane. He wanted to deny it, refute it - his father wouldn't dare pass off his birthright so flippantly. Chachanji was a mere boy who liked to pretend to fight monsters with sticks and cried whenever his hammer managed to inevitably find his fingertips. He was no heir - it would be a bigger mistake than his stubborn clinging to the production of archaic weaponry. And yet, there was the sign of that exact thing being brazenly brandished - the mark that so neatly mirrored the one on his own brow.

 

"S-so I dun hafta listen ta anythin' ya say if'n I dun wanna, Go-nii!" Chachanji finished with a sort of twisted, childish pride. He stood proudly there for a moment, until he noticed the expression on his older brother's face. And then all his standoffish demeanor melted away. "G-Go-nii...?"

 

"H-he wouldn't... he couldn't..." Gogonji murmured as he clutched at his cane tightly with white-knuckled hands, the words repeating like a mantra as they bubbled forth from his lips. "Everything I did... everything I endured... was to show him... show him a better business. Then... then the razing... and I... I..."

 

"I-it's akay, Go-nii," his younger brother insisted, timidly approaching him, a gloved hand reaching out to him. "Y-yer still me older brother... th-there's still that, right?"

 

He moved without thinking, acted without even hesitating, lashing out at his younger brother with a swipe of his cane. Chachanji was quicker, though, hopping back just enough so that the length of wood and metal slashed only air. Combat training - the boy had undergone some manner of combat training. Of course, why else would he have been able to overcome Khamja along with his insufferable allies? What else had he missed?

 

It was if a haze had lifted from Gogonji's eyes as he took in the situation. The boy's strong frame - honed from cycles toiling at the forge, likely at their father's insistence after he had left to prove his business plan - was coiled back into a defensive position, in a pose not unlike one of the Sultana's own guard. The armored gauntlets and sabatons weren't store-bought but hand-crafted, in a style still familiar to the elder Gegenji child despite over a decade away from the forges. The hammer strapped to his back was also like their father's - capable of both crafting mighty weapons, and being used as one as well should the need arise.

 

This was Chachanji: the new heir to the Gegenji family. And Gogonji had attacked him. Even if he could have been accepted back into the fold with all the evidence he was collecting for his new information network, that was gone now. Father would never accept someone who would so willingly attack the family heir not once, but thrice. He would never be recognized now.

 

"G-Go-nii?"

 

The room was spinning, with sounds and colors either too muted or too loud. Voices that were both familiar and not pounded in his head, clawing at his mind. A fervent and careless Mhach researcher, an ancient Hellsguard as mighty as the mountains he lived in, an egotistical Ishgardian noble youth riding on the coat-tails of his family's legacy, and a whisper of a girl gifted with power greater than she could handle. Sights, sounds, memories, successes, failures, so many failures - it was all too much.

 

"Go-nii!"

 

The well-worn cafe floorboards came up quickly to meet the eldest Gegenji child, and then everything went black.

[Gegenji]

Wait, what? I have a thread? Who says?

 

This, by the way, takes place just before the article I posted an addendum to over in the Tonberry's Lantern section. The idea for this little story piece came a while after, and felt like it would work well with one of Gogon's overarching plots. Not entirely sure how well I presented it... and if skipping over a particular bit was okay or not... but I hope it's enjoyed nonetheless.

 

And, as always, the music:

 

EsalBynBbFw

 

 

Musty.

 

If Gogonji had to describe this fetid heap of primitive housing he was being held prisoner in with a single word, it was musty. It fit all the definitions - it smelt heavily of mold and age, mostly due to the fact that the Sylphs had likely lashed together whatever plant-life had died naturally rather than go for the actually architecturally sound choice and prepare proper planks of wood. Its style, therefore, fell under the second definition - an obsolete, outdated, antiquated yurt that wasn't even properly waterproofed; a fact that aided its fulfillment of the first definition. Finally it was dull. Horrendously dull.

 

Not that he could complain overly much. To avoid implicating himself overly much in his little plan of vengeance, he had presented himself as a victim in the entire incident revolving the Garlean outpost nestled deep in the Twelveswood. He had willingly given himself up to be held captive until the Twin Adders arrived to question him so he could spin his plan into action. And carrying a research journal on Black Magic - even if it wasn't actually his - would have been quite the damning evidence for what he wanted to do.

 

And that was to see Restless Wind dead.

 

It was a flame of utter hatred that had filled his being for only one other entity - the Garleans. While that blaze had cooled with the calming fact that his family had survived the razing of Doma, it still flickered with an animosity for the nation that took away his own and stood postured to take over another if the Alliance didn't stop its internal bickering and posturing. This new second flame, however, with fresh and brilliant in its ferocity as the spark that had lit it was not even a sun old.

 

Not even a sun ago, Restless Wind had broken away from Gogonji's plan to extradite her sister from the compound by taking an oblivious Garlean officer hostage. Not even a sun ago, she had tortured him - an act he hadn't particularly minded considering his stance on that nation - until the officer revealed that her sister had been killed and he had taken some piece of jewelry from her corpse. Not even a sun ago, the Roegadyn woman had taken all she had learned from her research and brought it to bear on the outpost. Again, removing such a blight from Eorzean soil was not something he was overly against. However, there had been collateral damage that was inexcusable.

 

An had been inside, seeking to silently extract the woman's sister; a decision made to keep in line with Wind's fervent desire to avoid causing undo harm to her sibling. Something that - had the man been lying just to get her to stop, as torture victims are wont to do - she had completely ignored in her little Mhach-style showboating of power. He had sought to warn his fairer half once he realized the Roegadyn's target was the ceruleum depot, but all Gogonji had heard in response before the explosion ripped through the compound was An trying to call out his name.

 

To his credit, Wind's accomplice had a better head on his shoulders and sought to contain the explosion as best he could. And with that, Gogonji had thought perhaps An had survived and would make her way back to the meeting point. As bells past and still no response came from the linkpearl, he grew more anxious, more irritated, more angry. For all the while Wind nagged at him that they should escape, to abandon the rest of the plan due to her own phenomenally idiotic actions. Finally, he set a deadline for her - should An not show by the next bell, there would be consequences.

 

She feigned ignorance, of course, in there being any issue at all. Wind touted his actions as betrayal - seeking to double-cross her after she had rendered payment in the form of her notes and her gil. She blamed him for using An in his plan, offering her freely to the effort. She completely dismissed the fact that his mate would have not been in any undue harm if Wind hadn't utterly derailed the entire plan with her little stunt. All the added difficulty and danger had been added to the situation by her alone, and thus she was culpable for her actions no matter how she tried to feebly twist the situation.

 

The bell past, An did not show nor make as much of a crackle of static over the linkpearl. And that was when he finally admitted to the gnawing fear in his gut. She was dead. His mate, one of the few people he felt could understand him and truly connect with him... was gone. And this arrogant, self-absorbed harpy of a woman was responsible.

 

His rage boiled over into a sort of eerie calm at that moment, when he finally understood what had happened - it all seemed so simple. She had murdered An, so she had to die in turn. It wouldn't be too hard, he had concealed his hand to the populace at large for moons now, so she had no idea of his capability. And she was still recovering from her massive use of personal and local aether, so she was at an added disadvantage. Plus, he had Erwin on hand to neatly remove her head from her shoulders while he kept her magic locked down - further cementing his dominance in this encounter.

 

However, she proved to be a far more wily opponent than he had anticipated. He had counter-spelled her initial attempts to slumber him and his cohort, had interrupted her attempt to whisk herself away magically from the meeting point. However, she had managed to bring to bear one last sleep spell that he couldn't overpower with his own arcane might, and then immediately fled into the night through means unknown to him. Regardless of the method, she had managed to escape his divine retribution...

 

... Yet she had let him live.

 

He would make sure she'd suffer for that mistake. He had failed to overcome her in such favorable conditions, so he was certain he'd have far less luck with her both rested and on the defensive. So, instead, he would wield the entirety of Eorzea as a weapon against her instead. By revealing her and her actions to the media, he would feed their fear and paranoia until they fell upon her and tore her to pieces. She could escape two men, but how easily could she elude a continent? After all, even the Garleans would learn of her actions from this, and would also seek her hide as recompense.

 

Just recalling what she had done burned that flame within him brighter, a roaring inferno that crashed against his inner being like a caged animal. He remembered his all-too-brief lessons with another Hellsguard with some inane name, back when he had been collecting soul crystals for his ultimately futile effort against Garlemald. This level of rage should be one's Inner Beast - from what he remembered - yet there was something more to it. Something... foreign.

 

He took a deep breath, seeking to calm himself though meditation even as he took in a lungful of the stink of the Sylph yurt. Wind would be served the justice she deserved, as soon as the Adders got their inept hindquarters here and he gave them her and her associate's descriptions. He didn't want the boy dead quite so much, but he would likely lead them to her. He could not be overlooked as a resource, a piece in the plan that would be that woman's downfall. And fall she would.

 

Reaffirming that fact as a pseudo-mantra quelled his own flame somewhat, allowing him to better isolate the coals that stoked it so. Another sense of loss, a familiar one. A soul that had lost home, family, and ultimately life to an invading force. To a tribe of vicious and efficient Seekers, whose Nunh cared not for the damage he had caused to the ancient Hellsguard.

 

The Warrior.

 

He had felt its twinge before. It resonated most with him when he was on his warpath against Garlemald, a synergy that was closer even than that of his Nymian crystal. It was what had given him the majority of the physical power and ferocity he had brought to bear in the Castrum, and its rage had continued to burn wild after he had recognized his brother... and aided in the alien puppeteering he had suffered afterward. Its rage had long cooled over the course of his bed-rest, its violent seething lost in the chaos of the other fragments whirling about in his mind.

 

But now, with like feelings brought to the fore again, its ire and presence had been reawakened. Perhaps even during the bells-long wait for An's return, the Warrior had been urging him forward. To take Erwin's axe in his own hands and cleave Wind in twain for so brazenly and carelessly taking the life of his mate. He had not the physical might he had leeched from the crystals before, so he had tamped that desire down - along with the fear that An was actually dead. But now the two were aligned again in a way almost forgotten.

 

"Warrior," he spoke within his mind, opening the door to his sanctuary from the remaining swirl of fragments. "I believe we have much to discuss..."

 

When the door to the yurt finally opened again, the fractured streams of light that already spilled through the shoddy construction were further augmented by the cascade from the newly unbarred portal. The shapes that coalesced just beyond were blackish and murky, though Gogonji could tell some were flying and others were on foot. As the Lalafell's violet eyes cleared under the assault of additional light, so too did theirs adjusted to the gloom. The Sylph guards, and a small retinue of Adders.

 

His rage still broiled and seethed, but it was far more directed now. The caged inferno had been whipped into obedience, no longer thrashing about seeking release. An furious focus that would serve well in his arsenal, though the benefits were nowhere near at the level of a truly trained Warrior. No great feats of inhuman strength, no unstoppable juggernaut of flesh. Merely a sort of... parting gift from a fragment now returned to silence.

 

From one kindred spirit to another.

[Gegenji]

He wasn't sure why he said it.

 

Well, to be more precise, he knew exactly why he had said it.

 

Gogonji and An - or more precise, "Tmesis Oan" and "Annunu" - had made a show of announcing the engagement of their front personas moons and moons ago, in a great spectacle out on the picturesque beaches of Costa del Sol. The event had even received attention from papers like the Tonberry's Lantern, giving the proposal even wider attention. And yet, there had been no visible advancement on that particular front since that bombastic announcement. The two certainly made their regular appearances together - from noble gatherings to competitions of mettle like the Runestone and the still-growing Spellguard - but the status of the relationship and its progression was left heretofore unspoken upon. So, when Sasha and her newly bonded mate questioned why the Lalafellin couple had yet to tie the knot, an answer had to be given before the gathered group.

 

Stating that the two would be wed was the most logical answer - there had been nothing to imply they were having any manner of difficulty in their relationship, and it would quash the few baseless rumors floating annoyingly about involving him supposedly "eyeing" other potential mates. As if any of the other mindless, brutish rabble could possibly grab his attentions in that way. Of course, he had presented Oan as a bit of a oblivious and friendly sort in defiance to his true nature, so even the smallest conversations with someone of the opposite gender could lead to such rumor-mongering. Gogonji was no stranger to misinformation - such was part and parcel of his profession - but he had a strange distaste for this particular bit of hearsay for reasons that eluded him, and quelling them would put the matter out of mind wholesale.

 

Setting it a season and a half away, wrapped up in some symbolic nonsense of Spring being a time of new beginnings, also had reason: time for planning. Setting it that far ahead allowed for all the specifics of the event to be ironed out. Required details like the venue, how much media attention should be focused on it, the outfits and colors to be worn, the food and entertainment to be provided, the guest list, it could all be considered. It would also provide enough time to manufacture some manner of fiasco that "broke up" Oan and Annunu, should it be required, but he found himself considering that a non-issue. And that sudden, illogical urging was part of the reason why the eldest Gegenji child was up at this late of an hour, staring down blankly at the tactical map of Eorzea set on his table.

 

Why was he so intent on having the wedding happen? It was not as if it put either them in a superior position to the one they were already in. In fact, manipulating the allure of drawing apart the engaged pair had been beneficial in a few information-gathering ventures. Mostly on Annunu's part, it seemed, as many gentlemen were eager to try to beat the dawdling Oan to claiming the Cherry Blossom Socialite's hand. Once wed, such tactics would be far less useful, though the blackmail potential of one seeking such infidelity could recoup some of those losses.

 

Perhaps it was the mystery of An's own stance on the matter that stymied him so and left him uncertain as to how to proceed. The lady Plainsfolk had be surprised by the declaration - which was unsurprising considering it had been rather spur-of-the-moment - but the rosy-cheeked silence that followed had left him wondering if she had been following his lead or reading deeper into the matter. She had not spoken on the announcement - either openly or privately - during the following Runestone either, where they had oft spoken quietly amongst themselves during the arcane clashes. There wasn't even a request to relocate to one of their favorite locations to speak on more sensitive matters.  She was the second part of this equation and yet she was an unknown variable still, and that vexed him.

 

There were other variables here as well. If they were to continue forward with the wedding, would it be solely for their personas, or would they be bonded in truth as well? The latter would serve only to weave another identifiable link between their fronts and their true selves, a dangerous move for someone in their line of work. And yet, rather than ensure that such a bonding was just between "Oan" and "Annunu" and leaving it at that, Gogonji kept finding himself thinking of other alternatives instead. He mused on having the master of ceremonies be someone neatly in his pocket or easily sworn to silence, or even having the "real" bonding occur on another date to distance the connection betwixt truth and fiction - while still seeking that the bonding be "true" in both.

 

Was this his id imposing itself again? As it had when Rosewater sought to "steal" Annunu from him, or when he had plotted vengeance when he had thought Restless Wind's actions had returned the Plainsfolk prematurely to the Lifestream? The former had resulted in the elimination of a Sultansworn black agent and a heightened alert for moons to follow. The latter had sown unnecessary seeds of discord, and it had only been due to his quick thinking and adaptability that he had been able to twist the situation back into his favor when it became clear the number of dangers inherent in having a powerful Black Mage as an enemy. Potential tools both lost due to his possessive id.

 

Or perhaps it was closer akin to the flares of possessiveness and anger that surfaced in situations like the mind-manipulating mage's attempts to weaponize her at the Runestone? Or when An herself mentioned the various individuals that sought to add her as another notch in their bedposts. His reactions to these were far more tempered than with the Paladin and the Black Mage, but still gave far too many a peek beneath the veil of misinformation he had so expertly draped about himself. Providing far too many hints that there was more behind the mask that was Tmesis Oan.

 

It was - as far as Gogonji could figure it - some manner of primal desire to claim her and make her his, and to figuratively bellow this claim from the rooftops so that all were made acutely aware of it. To chase away all the horn-dogs and brutes and savages that who dared to think they were worthy enough to have her hand or a place in her bed, and to firmly declare that to seek her was to go through him first.

 

The false bonding would be enough, his logical mind knew that. Just the belief that Annunu was wed would be enough to stay all but the most insistent - those who cared not for such vows - and such individuals could be controlled in other ways. And yet, on his desk lay a tome on auspicious dates to be wed - cracked open to the spring moons with annotations left by several possible suns. And speaking of suns, he had spent several running through the scenario of introduction her to his parents - and how to ensure that it was made clear that they would accept their relationship, whether they wanted to or not. And he had already done some delving into whom in his network could provide such a bonding and keep silent.

 

All things he had no logical need to do, and yet...

 

And yet...