[ OPEN? CLOSED? ] as you die, you will understand.

[passio]

WHO: dextera + others! i’m open to anyone but please tell me by PM or at pavaal if they haven’t had at least like, one conversation.

WHAT: dextera forces himself to face all the people he bailed on after dying.

WHERE: the town!

WHEN: forward dated to late june, and probably the 1st and 2nd of july.

WARNINGS: death death death

[ for the first time, dextera wakes up from death to a sky that isn’t red. it’s all as grey as the world around him, and slowly, the memories return to him—the bogeyman, his brother, the feeling of his very soul being taken from his body. then, there’s a long expanse of nothing. now, his consciousness has returned.

he keeps out of the way at first in this sketchy body, staying private, staying safe with a friend he’s sure won’t tell—there are things he’s not ready to talk about, and faces he’s not ready to see. after a few days have passed, though, and his features reform, color returns, and his voice continues to stay just out of reach, he can finally be seen around town again.

he saw the post. he knows guren announced his death. he’s just hoping that no one will ask about it, if they see him. ]

...

[ as ever, he's silent. ]


( i'll be posting closed prompts in the comments for people who want them, otherwise... go HOG WILD. )

Comments

CLOSED TO NOCTIS

[passio]

[ dextera had managed to sneak in undetected, late at night, in order to use his laptop to contact guren—but the next day, there’s no helping it. he needs to show himself to his roommates, even if he couldn’t bring himself to read their responses to guren’s post on the network. noctis had just lost his father, he remembers that, and dextera doesn’t want to put him through the death of another.

however reluctantly it’s occurred to him, he knows that he’s important to some people. noctis will want to know that he’s all right. ]

…

[ so he takes a deep breath, and knocks on the door. ]

[nascere]

[ He's important. He's so important to Noctis in the time that they had shared here -- Noctis has shed more than his share of tears because death is terrible in all its forms, infinitely cruel and Noctis has never quite learned to handle it even if he has been faced with it all his life.

Dex didn't die protecting him, but it doesn't matter. He's his friend and he should have been protected, looked out for, and for the past few days Noctis fights not to think about just how he had gone, the fear he might've felt. The things that he hadn't finished.

Guren, alone in that kitchen with that stone.

Noctis takes comfort from both his companions, buries his face in Ignis' chest, squeezes Prompto a little harder and doesn't look at the empty room that Dex used to be. They were like brothers of a kind, too -- Joshua, Estelle, Dex and him and look what happened.

But then it's late in the night and Noctis is the one who answers the door, having half a mind to get up for a glass of water. When he opens it, expecting either Joshua or Estelle, the sight of Dex standing right there makes him stare in shocked surprise. ]

Uh.

[ Is this a dream? Is he hallucinating? He pinches himself, hard. Time to wake, if it's a dream. Guren said the dead can never come back to life. So is it a joke -- Noctis narrows his eyes, sword shimmering in his hand in a flare of blue. ]

If you're some monster here to fuck with me, I'm not in the mood.

[passio]

…

[ the fact that he doesn’t flinch away or try to defend himself immediately is more evidence than could ever be spoken aloud that this is the real thing. that guilt that noctis is by now familiar with, for all the things dextera has done against the world—it eats at him, weighs him down, until he looks as if he might crumble from just a word. he’s sorry. he’s sorry that he disappeared, and sorry that noctis would jump to the defense of his memory like this when he never, ever deserved it.

he avoids noctis’ gaze, and slowly lifts his hands in supplication. if noctis wants to run him through—he won’t fight it.

but it is the real thing. there’s no trick of the light when he moves, and he doesn’t even seem nervous to be faced with this anguish that could so soon turn to anger. dextera welcomes it, in a way, since it’s easier to be met with frustration than with sorrow. ]

[nascere]

[ That's... that's weird.

The person in front of him isn't attacking, the person -- Dex, looks tired, looks even sadder than anyone else in this house and they've all been grieving, and he's pretty sure daemons and monsters can't fake this level of genuine emotion.

And why are his hands up? Is he surrendering? Monsters don't do that, they don't really wait this long to pounce, and Noctis is silent for a long, long moment, wide-eyed as impossible pieces seem to click together. His weapon disappears, the truest indication that something's shifted, from anger to surprise and disbelief. ]

Dex...?

[ He asks uncertainly, mind alighting on the next possibility, not daring to hope. ] Are you a... ghost?

[ Should he have dispelled the sword after all? ]

[passio]

[ dextera is better than a ghost—or worse, in some perspectives, but for the people who want him back this is the best situation to ask for, isn’t it? he curls his fingers, slightly, before lowering his hands entirely as he figures out what he wants to say.

he’s back. that feels underwhelming. it feels like glossing over all the pain and trouble he’s caused, to pretend as if it was always as easy as showing up at their doorstep a few days later. ]

…I’m alive. Again.

[nascere]

[ He's alive, again. He's alive, and while Dex feels underwhelming, Noctis is overwhelmed. He looks at Dex like he's brought back the sun, the pain and trouble burned away by surprise and relief, by the sheer growing delight that he's back and he's here and not dead, the empty spaces in this home filled once again.

Noctis is going to see him with Leliel, going to coax him out of his room for food, they're going to share food again, and oh, Dex, it's just that easy.

There are plenty of questions he wants to ask, but it's all set aside for the moment as he takes a step forward and immediately, wordlessly envelopes him in his arms.

He doesn't do hugs, he's told Guren once upon a time. Looks like the joke's on Noctis, still. But he doesn't care. Dex is back and home and he's hugging him so tightly a part of him fears he might break Dex into half. ]

Okay. [ Is all he says, the words muffled against his shoulder, almost breaking, but doesn't. Okay. ] You're late. Iggy's packed away all the leftovers.

[passio]

[ dextera doesn’t know how to respond to this—so many hugs lately, but from noctis, it’s different. a part of him has felt, up to now, that getting a hug in greeting was supposed to involve him comforting the other person, taking responsibility for his own death, but this feels like noctis is just, so simply, glad to see him. ]

Ah—

[ the sound escapes him, as if forced out by noctis’ tight embrace, but it doesn’t hurt. the pressure of it feels good, like being reminded that he’s alive and people want him to stay that way. okay.

noctis says he’s late, and that… almost feels good, too, in the normalcy of it all. as if dextera just spent too much time wandering outside and missed dinner, and no one had to hurt because of it. he wants to make it right. he wants it to have been that way, and for noctis to be hugging him because he is the type of person to give hugs.

he squeezes back. ]