ingrid appleby wakes up from death.
what should have been death, what would have been death, if not for zodiark, in their final, panicked moments, regurgitating its own new heart.
when she threw herself in after fandaniel, reasoning that if he could become the new heart then so could she, ingrid had prepared herself for many things- most of all, being imprisoned for eternity.
her body, like fandaniel's vessel, had dissolved upon impact- there was no way to be sure how much of the body she now had was comprised of what hydaelyn had made for her when her wandering soul had reached etheirys.
...ingrid hadn't made this new body for herself. it was made for her, sculpted for her by hand by the other souls inside of zodiark. and much like the body hydaelyn had given her...it was made with love. if she thought about it too much she'd start crying again.
there were inconsistencies, of course. the horns being the most obvious, and the hair being the most annoying. she'd have to get rid of that, and soon. she hated the weight of it, and the way it felt on her neck. but still- she could just make out the scars on her chest, and she knew that they had meant for this body to bring her joy and comfort.
distantly, she recognized her robes as having been identical to the ones the shades had worn- they had swaddled her in their clothing.
there was nothing more she could do here. zodiark was no more, and whatever calamity he had held back was sure to return. nothing else for it but to forge ahead.
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"Jag kunde inte svara, för jag kände mig så underlig, nästan som om jag höll på att bli ledsen, och ändå var jag ju inte ledsen utan tvärtom."
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one thing i realized about fandaniel's dynamic with xande that really fucks me up is, like.... there are the obvious parallels that canon draws between meteion and xande, and their roles in hermes/fandaniel's lives. and there are also the parallels between fandaniel and meteion. there's a lot to unpack.
but it hit me recently that one of hermes' deepest, most devastating regrets is having failed meteion, with abuse and hypocrisy and the project he had the authority to make her a part of.
he was painfully aware that he wasn't fit to be a father; that he'd put them in a bitch of an unsatisfactory situation with his lack of foresight; that he was currently fucking things up in ways he did not know how to understand or articulate, much less address. he knew that there was no support system for this; not just for his mental health issues in general, but to educate him and hold him accountable about how to be decent to her, because he knew no one would give a fuck. the closest thing anyone would have given him to advice would be to just kill her and start over.
he says he hopes she'll find a better parent out there in space somewhere, because he knows there is not one to be found for her anywhere on this star, including him. she was one of the most helpless, vulnerable people in their society, and there was no backup for her if he mistreated her, if he failed. and he did.
so of course his next attempt to find a meteion would be an emperor. of course he'd be at the very top of the most powerful empire in the world, at the time. of course he'd position himself as his servant, devote himself to him utterly, and value his authority above all. he wanted someone he could never hurt the way he hurt meteion again.
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He's just, y'know smoking somewhere private outside. He just dropped the kid off at a safe location and flew himself elsewhere.
He's...still FUMING.
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"I basked in the afterglow..."
Zenos my friend you really need to get laid.
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i wish ryder was real i need a public consenus on if she could win in a fight against fandaniel bare handed but then i remember shes my oc and not a character everyone knows about
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I've had time to process a bit since yesterday and the thing I keep coming back to is if Fandaniel is the way he is is because Hermes's despair at not having found his answer stayed with him. Hermes might have forgotten Meteion's words but they've established some memories stay within your soul no matter what. What if that's the memory his soul kept. Not his love for life not his desire for more. Just his desperate plea for a meaning, and the answer that there is none, echoing across lifetimes. No wonder he wanted to die and thought the world should die with him.
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