#[ LETS GOOOOOO MORION FINALLY TALKS ABOUT HIS PROBLEMS ERA!!!!!!!!!! ]

[quartzhearted]

listening to what lambert tells him about crests troubles morion deeply. incredibly deeply.

in theory, just as lambert notes, crests sound like an endless fount of benefits. in particular, morion likes the sound of exclusive weapons... what would those even look like? and how are they made? is there one? are there multiple? do they only respond to a certain crest? the weapons enthusiast in him almost wins out. dragons, the questions he could ask!

but the longer lambert goes on and the more he divulges, the deeper the frown that sets on morion's face. he's always been of the belief that one must build their own worth, station be damned. when his brother passed and left the mantle of king to him, morion had to become someone who was worthy of the crown. passing the torch by birth order was one thing, but passage due to a mark? inheriting everything when one has done nothing to inherit it?

and then there is the issue of family. morion can't help but wonder what a crest-driven family dynamic would be like---clearly the things were more valuable than gold, and the body they were attached to likely just as much as a result. it's no big surprise; noblefolk always did enjoy splendor and status above all else.

but what of a first-born crestless if the second child bore one? what of the "failures" before the first one to win heirdom? were these children, just as alive and breathing as their brother, seen only as refuse? were they loved even a fraction of the same?

what of his own children in an alternate world? a crestless alcryst who sees no benefit to his existence, a crestless diamant who sees all his work chalked up to failure? morion would never treat his sons any different regardless of what they were born with or without, but what of the society that believes in those things?

"dragons," is all he can really muster after all of that thinking. "that sounds like misery."

to the ambiance of lambert's rapid-beating heart, morion wishes he had more to say. he's witnessing the ravaging of a crest right here---the way it steals control, the way it destroys the body in the aftermath. how many times has lambert gone through this before? and how many times will he have to go through it again? is there any way to prevent it? unconsciously, he squeezes lambert's arm again; if anything, there must be a way to at least mitigate the pain. surely.

when lambert loops back around to morion's condition, morion sighs. were his expressions that obvious? "well, y'know, it's..." morion trails off, trying and failing to find words. he's just now realizing how isolating it's been, living the life he has with nobody to talk about it with. ever since learning that he's a dead man walking, he's questioned what his purpose even is in being here. he sighs again, bone-deep and exhausted, and moves his hand down to the cuff of his left sleeve.

"...it's hard, lambert," morion says with uncharacteristic quiet. the button is undone and the sleeve is rolled up, revealing a sickly patch of skin that wraps around his forearm. there are marks where bandages have chafed the healthy skin around it, implying that he has attempted concealment measures. "it's hard knowin' the kind of stuff i know now. it's even harder not knowin' other things. i see the way people look at me---all i do is make 'em cry. that, or they become furious, thinkin' i'm an impostor or some kind'a zombie."

his golden eyes dim, staring at the corpseskin patch. "hell, i ain't even s'posed to be alive. all i'm doin' is settin' everyone up---my niece, my people, my kids---to deal with my death a second time. is that all i can be anymore?" he turns his head to the side, laughing dryly to try and cover up the emotions he blinks back. "just some guy that... dies all the time?"

*scooby doo laugh* reeheeheeheeheehee

TOA ETHEREAL BALL -- THREAD 1