2023-03-24: Brother and Sister

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  • Log: 2023-03-24: Brother and Sister
  • Cast: Char Aznable, Sayla Mass
  • Where: Governor's Mansion, Palau
  • OOC - IC Date: 24 March 0097
  • Summary: Casval and Artesia speak face to face for the first time in eighteen years. Casval attempts honesty, and Artesia bears her heart. CW: Suicidal Ideation


<Pose Tracker> Char Aznable has posed.

Artificial light twinkles in past the curtains in the exorbitant bedchamber. The air has that particular familiar staleness of a colony's constantly-recycled atmosphere.

The furnishings would probably sink a copious amount into even Sayla's budget for villa renovations.

Draped over a plush velvet chair: A selection of clothes. No guns, though.

The double poster bed is incredibly comfortable, and her body has only the dull ache of newly-healed injuries, distant and fading still.

Shouldn't she be more injured than this?

Even over everything else, one sensation cannot be avoided: A familiar pressure in the distance - but much closer than before the battle in Hong Kong.

He's nearby.

<Pose Tracker> Sayla Mass has posed.

        Sayla's eyes flicker open slowly as the colony falls on her face. It's a familiar feeling. Like when she was young. She raises a hand to block the light, and sees the perfectly intact glove of her pilot suit.

        The course of events slowly returns to her mind. Thye battle. Guy, Domon and Kamille coming for support, then-

        "Casval... What did you do?"

        The first thing she does after standing up is check the door. Check if it's locked, press her ear to it and check for guards, trying to actively sense- but that's only been her strong suit for one person.

        After a few moments she is... not satisfied, but at least she knows. It's only a matter of a time before he'd be here.

        She walks into the attached bathroom, and a moments later starts the shower. She needs to be awake. Alert. Not in a sweat soaked pilot suit. It's as she washes she notices-

        The faded burn scars on her back from Mecha-Ghoulghilas were gone. The occasional cricks in her right arm from when it was broken fighting Amuro were gone. The injuries received from her battle with Char... gone. Her eyes were wide now. Was this..."Casval, you didn't-"

        But the older scars are still there. Still old.

        Shaken, she dries herself off and wraps herself in a towel, looking through the cloths. Light colours. Baby blues. Skirts and dresses for someone with a younger fashion sense. Sayla grimaces, but grabs a simple dress with a knee length skirt and short sleeves. Something she can move in. Some socks and black flats. An outfit she didin't like, but she could get by.

        And now she waits for her brother to arrive, and tries to formulate a question- and a plan.

<Pose Tracker> Char Aznable has posed.

The Presence is drawing closer, as Sayla gets herself ready - moving around whatever ridiculous estate this building might be. Attending to business.

Eventually, though, it comes to a stop outside the thick, real oak double doors to the room - which aren't locked.

Precisely one minute after Sayla is prepared, there is a firm knock.

A brother should never enter his sister's room unannounced, after all.

When (if?) Sayla gives him permission to enter... he steps in.

He looks... the same. Exactly the same as his presentation as the leader of Neo Zeon. Blond hair slicked back, dressed in his crimson-and-gold ceremonial regalia... and those hard, cold blue eyes.

No, not exactly the same. A glimmer of amber-gold is alight in his pupils. The power of the Oath Over Omega.

He is silent for a moment. So many things to say. So many things unsaid. He stands there, arms folded behind his back. An image of confidence. Power. Inevitability.

Eventually, he settles on:

"Artesia. I am glad to see you recovered."

<Pose Tracker> Sayla Mass has posed.

        There is no way that timing is coincidence. She casts her eyes around the room looking for a camera, before finally speaking. "Come in."

        It's the first time they've seen each other face to face in 18 years. Her hands clench into fists as desires clash. To punch him. To scream at him. To question him. To hug him. To kill him.

        "...More than I expected." Her voice is hard, controlled. Distant. "May I ask how long I was out?" She continues to study him. The sense of grim purpose she felt from Renais. Confidence, power and inevitability born from 'taking' the Oath over Omega. Was anything left of her big brother in there? Of Edouard?

        She takes a few long, slow moments to respond. "Where are we?" Sayla taps the bed, watching Char for reactions. Trying to see how much of a mask each is wearing. "For that matter, why did you take me?"

<Pose Tracker> Char Aznable has posed.

"It has been thirteen days since Kowloon," Char answers, stiffly. "We traveled straight to Palau, where I have requested asylum for us both, and gave you a small infusion of Orange Site's energy to assist your healing." Not enough to induct her, evidently.

He looks away, to the window. "I have been preparing. Studying the world's state. I am given to understand, after all, that it has been some time since Amuro and I fought."

"... I am unsurprised that the world has closed itself off more from that day."

"As to why you are here, instead of in the case of the Gutsy Galaxy Guard..." He walks, hands still behind his back, to draw the curtains and look out of the window at Palau.

"... I am uncertain. I felt... something during the fight."

He doesn't look back at her.

<Pose Tracker> Sayla Mass has posed.

"You did what?" All of Sayla's other questions are dropped by the wayside. "You exposed me to Triple Zero!?" Sayla sounds terrified and incensed all at once. It was exactly what she was afraid of. All the decorum she had drops in an instance as she stands to her feet. "How could you!?"

        She's shaking with rage and fear, as she processes the rest. "Palau. The heart of the Sleeves territory. But your ghost isn't here..." She'd feel HIM too. She knows she would. An asteroid base. "...Preparing for how long?" The question is pointed. "Amuro hadn't aged since you both disappeared. I imagine it's the same for you."

        That last statement though, and Sayla flares up again, tears in her eyes. "Eighteen years. Eighteen years and all you have for me is something?" She steps forward, looking him in the eyes despire the height difference. "All I get is something when I have been trying to fix the wounds you left on the Earth... on our hearts?! On MY heart?" She glares at him, so much despair and hatred in her eyes, her walls breaking down entirely. "Did you even look for the people you left behind? Kamille? Nanai?" She steps forward. "Mineva?" Another step forward. "Me? Would you even have remembered me if I hadn't been waiting for you?"

        She shudders, remembering. The oath. Palau. Oh god. "You're going to do it again. You're going to do it again and... And I'll have to help you. I won't have a choice." Sayla stares down at her hands. She's been exposed to it. The oath. "Casval... If you have any love left for me. Any at all..."

        She looks him in the eyes, determination clear. Determination that could rival any Brave. "Give me back Papá's gun, and let me end it on my terms before that energy twists me against everything I am, everything I've done. Don't make me do this."

        "Don't make me kill my daughter. Please."

<Pose Tracker> Char Aznable has posed.

"Not prolonged exposure," he answers her. "There is a point at which the energy can self-perpetuate within the body, but by now the last vestiges of it should be leaving yours."

A mercy he cannot have.

"I do not know how long I was there - long enough to understand the Truth, indeed - but when it expelled me, I arrived at the site of our battle. I have been catching up."

Sayla snaps and yells at him, and this is what makes him turn to face her again. "... 'something' is more than I have felt in a long time, Artesia - beyond the reactions of the Psycoframe at Axis, at least."

He closes his eyes, exhaling. "Of course I would have remembered you." He puts his hand over his chest, the high collar of his regalia concealing something worn under it. "Before we were taken, my last thoughts were of you."

He's making a tremendous effort to remain calm in the face of his sister's anger. He seems... inhumanly detached.

"... I will not," he answers her when she asks him to give her their adoptive father's gun, "because you would succeed. I could not let you die of your injuries, but nor could I deny you the ability to choose."

A wry, false smile as she begs him to let her end things on her own terms. "Even though I knew which answer you would give."

"... This blighted world must end, Artesia, but I had hoped we might."

He sighs. "I do not know what I hoped. I only knew that I wanted to speak with you again, before the End comes."

<Pose Tracker> Sayla Mass has posed.

        That causes Sayla to stop dead in her tracks. Is that true? She won't become a Ruin Apostle? She backs up a few steps. The relief that comes over her is enormous. Her thoughts drift to Leina... what did she know now.

        "...Four years, by our time, to the day you returned." She's quiet, much of the wind taken out of her sails as she sits down on the bed again. She's quiet, for nearly a minute aft Char stops speaking. She looks where his hand goes. "...Nanai told me." She says, looking at where the locket should be. "And I saw it. In your manor on sweetwater." One hand graps the other on her lap. "...Are you still wearing it?"

        That... strikes Sayla as odd. Something narrows her eyes. "Even on A Baoa Qu- the last time we spoke- you wanted me to do what you said. What changed?"

        Sayla steels again. "So it's not about Father's ideals anymore. About Humanity moving into space." Her hands tense up again into fists. "Even you wouldn't want this world to end. There was also some twisted hope in your mind."

        And then she pauses again- he wanted to speak. And despite it all... "...What did you want to say, Casval?"

<Pose Tracker> Char Aznable has posed.

Char loosens his collar to produce the thing worn under his jacket - a golden locket, old but lovingly polished.

He doesn't need to open it; they both know the images housed within.

Sayla asks why he left her with a choice at all.

"I never wanted you involved in my vengeance," is his answer. "And you are right - I did want the world to change, not end, but it is no longer about 'want'. The Cosmic Truth is inescapable; the seeking of miracles scars the universe and will cast everything into an endless, lightless stillness, a stagnation."

"You have lived through those four years. You have seen first hand the greed with which the Federation and the Sleeves both deny the existence of miracles and yet grasp hungrily to wield them as weapons. This behaviour is an inevitable aspect of so-called 'intelligent' life. They will not stop. They have to end."

"Even so, to make you part of this cause, unwillingly... I do not think of it as a blessing."

"... There are too many things I wanted to say. I wanted to try to... be honest with you. For once. To hope you would understand why I must do what comes next."

"To say goodbye, this time."

<Pose Tracker> Sayla Mass has posed.

        "And I never wanted you seeking vengeance in the first place," Sayla retorts, but not with the same fervor. This... this she's heard before. From Renais.

        "...I have. It's crushing. It's frustrating." She takes a long breath. "But I disagree with your Cosmic Will. I used to think miracles were horrid things. Ever since you and Amuro..." She trails off.

        "If you focus on miracles, you miss all the small changes the world has made. Change doesn't come from a single act. You never noticed. You were too focused on Amuro. On Lalah."

        Sayla's tone shifts to surprised. He didn't want to make her part of this. He was still Casval. Truly and earnestly. And it hurt so damn much. "...So some part of you still hasn't changed. Maybe that's the problem."

        Sayla's eyes open wide. Her expression finally softens, but with it come tears. "You idiot..." Her voice is quiet. "I wanted you to do this for so long. I tried to reach you. Even after everything you'd done. I wanted to understand." She doesn't reach out. She wants to. But she can't. Not right now.

        "I do understand why you must. But it's also why I won't accept 'goodbye'. I understand that this is the only path available to you- and that's why I won't let you walk it. I know I can't change your mind here and now- but I will save you. And then we'll have this talk properly- and you're going to listen to what I have to say too. And then what your daughter has to say to you. And then we'll work out the rest."

        She clenches her fist, this time with determination. "You're going to make it to the other side of this, Casval. And when you do I'll be waiting to make you see the work that needs doing. I swear it on my Heart."

<Pose Tracker> Char Aznable has posed.

Char is silent for a while after Sayla is finished speaking. Then he nods his head, slowly. "I see. I suppose I would have rather you stayed here, but... You were ever the one to chase a cat up onto a roof without any thought of how you'd get back down."

He truly hasn't changed. Part of him is still stuck back then.

"I can't simply allow you to leave, of course. Your preparations to confront me at Kowloon - if you had had more support, you might have triumphed, and 'saved' me from this existence. I have to treat you as a threat, and I am certain those others under the Oath are oriented on that as well. So while I will permit you movement around the former Governor's estate, it will be under guard."

"Once I leave this room, we will be enemies again."

Despite that, Char smiles - a smile Sayla hasn't seen in over eighteen years. Brotherly pride? "I underestimated you before, Artesia. That will not happen again."

So saying, he begins to walk towards the doors out of the bedroom.

<Pose Tracker> Sayla Mass has posed.

        Sayla's silent for a long few moments. "I suppose I am," Sayla says, looking directly at Char. "And now I have an abundance of cats to show for it. What do you have?"

        If she had just had more support... It's like a knife in her heart. He's not wrong. If she had trusted anyone... maybe they would have won. Maybe. "...I see." She doesn't object. She can use this. "And those guards will be waiting outside that door? May I use them to request food and drink?" Outline the rules of operation.

        Enemies again. It hurts to hear, but she's known this since Dakar. For all she hoped for a better turn, she knew it might come to this. The smile is... offputting, and familiar and desired. "...you also said you'd write." That little bit of bitterness is hard to bite back.

        And then.. something comes to mind. A shot she can take. "...Would you stay if I asked, hermano?"

<Pose Tracker> Char Aznable has posed.

"Almost nothing," he admits - too readily, perhaps, but then, he is trying to be honest.

"I would hate to be a poor host," he says sardonically. "Of course you may request what you need."

"... I did say that." He sighs. "I am... I regret not doing that."

He still can't properly apologise, the idiot.

He pauses at the threshold, as Sayla asks him if he'd stay if she asked, and turns back to her, drawing out Jimba Ral's gun and handing it to her. "I might. There is time, yet. Would you ask, hermana?"

<Pose Tracker> Sayla Mass has posed.

        She's quiet, as Char admits he has almost nothing. It's... such a bleak thing to hear. The thought weighs heavy on her. The fact that she could have done much as he did, but for the right reasons.

        "Thank you," Sayla responds, before Char fails to apologize. He really is still there. More there than maybe he was. She takes the empty pistol when offered. There's not going to be ammunition in here. She doesn't have a holster, either, so she simply holds it for now. A beacon to home. To their second family. She falls completely silent, her walls reforming as she does. She cannot keep bearing her heart this way today. Not this openly. Her mouth opens to speak-

        Sayla, I'm coming. ...We're coming. Just hold on.

        "It's been about two weeks since I've eaten, yes?" She speaks as soon as the words travel through the bond. "Would you join me for breakfast? Or... whatever mealtime it is." This is a selfishness. It absolutely is. But it is a selfishness that can serve her. A selfishness that can confuse intent.

        "We haven't eaten together since the day Papá and Mamá died. If this is to be the end, I should like a kinder last meal with brother than that."

        Something travels back along the bond, across the earth sphere. It's not words, but a feeling. A bolstered confidence at the words that reached her- and an earnest belief in the sender.