[He was on a trip. He was just on a trip with Noah. He was just on a trip, hopefully it was a good one. Diarmuid will hold the fort while they're out.
Why in the world did Diarmuid think that? His friend could be busy often, certainly, but not to the point he was no contact for four days. Even during their trek to Denmark last year he still appeared on the network.
Something was very, very wrong. And around this time last year...
Dammit. His first instinct was to check the Jackdaw so wherever Edward was on the message Diarmuid is leaving he'll hear the faint sound of the seabreeze. Calm compared to the turmoil they were both feeling, but as always Diarmuid's tone was comparatively steady even if he couldn't hide his panic at the edges of it.]
Edward, no one has heard from you in days. Has something happened?
[How could he forget what happened last year? How could he forget how his impulse drifted into such an intense overdrive. How could he forget the curse he laid upon the name of those who trapped them after he felt his beloved fall limp in his arms then dare to threaten the safety of two more who held his heart in their hands?
And Edward had to experience such horrors again... if not potentially worse. Diarmuid had no gauge on being in space or spaceships. Even the idea of being among the stars in a literal sense made his head spin.
No wonder it took him a day to respond, but he was quiet for a while in a futile attempt to keep anger from rising in his chest. Two things stopped that. The knightly veneer he had up constantly... and the sense of failure that came with it.]
I'm at home. Hungover. Come in whenever, Kidd will let you in. [Oh wait.] The Pod, I mean.
[Diarmuid would understand, he thinks. He'd been through that hellhole that had been the cabin. He'd died there. Fuck, Edward had died, and then come back, and that wasn't even getting into all the people he'd cared about that he'd hurt.]
I need—a drink? Or. Even just something to block the light out.
[And soon meant Soon given he used the full extent of his speed as a Servant rather than standard transportation. He will indulge his friend in bringing a strong drink but also a few small but hearty things to eat, gods knew Team Saber House had no shortage of small snacks.
He can only image that's about all Edward could think to stomach if things were as bad this year as last.
Once he'd arrived and had been let in, he immediately went to his friend's side.]
... The same thing happened to us outside as it did last year. I was none the wiser about you all being taken. I'd... assumed you all had business to attend to.
[It's no excuse but Diarmuid could not help but feel like he ought to bear some responsibility for not being aware.]
[It’s easy enough to find Edward, even easier with Kidd the Pod guiding Diarmuid through the house. He’s the lump on the couch covered in a blanket and surrounded by an entire menagerie of creatures, with Bonnet the chef rat directing Eddie Junior the catke to bring over something warm.
Edward lifts his head up to meet Diarmuid’s eyes, gives a small, tired smile.]
Was it a fishing trip like last time? Would that it were.
[He’s so fucking tired and it bleeds through into his voice.]
…how d’you apologize to someone, for hurting them badly when you were not in your right mind?
[Diarmuid managed a a small smile of his own that faded quickly. It was the relief of seeing his friend alive, albeit not well. As he sat next to Edward, he laid a comforting hand on his back.]
It was, or so everyone believed at any rate. [He managed to keep the bite out of his tone, specifically towards himself.]
... It's often dependent on the severity of what was done, I've found. But... what in the world happened to you all? [What caused this to be something Edward needed to ask? Diarmuid knew it wasn't so simple as one would think.]
[It's the magic, it's the stupid magic. He knows that if anyone here had realized what was going on they would've ripped open a hole in the spirit realm to retrieve them before things got truly that bad—and the ship couldn't afford for them to be rescued. So.
He curls into a tighter ball when he feels Diarmuid's hand on his back.]
We were—brought onto a ghost ship, floating in space. No crew, no bodies, just blood and some strange viscous liquid and this—this gravity core? I didn't quite understand the explanation. While some of us were poking around that core, it...opened, and dragged us all into it. The things we saw, the things I saw—
[He chokes on his own voice, and turns his face away from Diarmuid's.]
[Magic is a damned bastard for keeping them away. An aggravatingly clever one. As if it knew that Diarmuid would turn the entire city around to find his friend. But to what end did it torture his loved ones so? Even if the why would solve nothing, he couldn't help but ask it as Edward shrunk into himself and recalled what happened.]
Gods above...
[And for Edward to experience a hell worse than last year. Where, if what he asked Diarmuid was any indicator, they saw other people as enemies...
It broke Diarmuid's heart, but he could only imagine how much it crushed Edward. Putting the pieces together wasn't hard.
Whether he was the sort for this or not, he pulled Edward in for a hug. Not forcing the man to look at him or keeping him so tight that he couldn't pull back if desired. Just enough to make the point while he let hypocrisy speak for him. But was it really that if it was true at least for his friend?]
Listen to me. Whatever took place on that ship... It wasn't your fault. It was not your fault.
[He goes easily, without any resistance. After a moment he all but crushes himself against Diarmuid, fingers tightening on his shirt.]
Maybe it's a lucky thing that the one person I did kill was Husk, and he came back anyway to kill me. At least it kept me from killing anyone else.
[His words are pragmatic, but his voice shakes. It's not an easy thing to experience your own death. It's worse when you realize that you broke your own damn oaths and it was the best thing anyone could've done for you.
Softly, wretchedly:] I thought I was better. But I hurt James and Nito—I was supposed to protect my people.
[He would let Edward stay like this as long as he needed, wouldn't move an inch. But Husk was taken as well...? Even Lord Nito...
Diarmuid would remain the steady one, ever the master of compartmentalizing whether he was conscious of it or not. It was useful when he needed to act as one's rock.]
If there were factors playing tricks on your mind, it does not make you worse for falling. I know with absolute certainty you as you are free from that ship would have never done what you did to your people, or anyone innocent.
If you were worse, you would feel nothing right now.
I might not have been in my right mind, but I still did it. I saw one person from my past I knew I'd killed and it was like I'd never left it behind.
[Like he'd never learned any better. He chokes on it now, the guilt and the regret, and even the grief, god, such grief. It tastes bitter, tastes ashen.]
The blood is still on my hands. And I—fuck, I don't usually mind, having blood on my hands, if I did I wouldn't be what I am, but it's—it's never been like this, before, it was never like this before. It never belonged to people I'd tried to keep safe, before.
I should have as well, Diarmuid couldn't help thinking. Better at knowing you all were in danger. What use is a Saber-class Servant's innate magic resistance if he can't see through a fake "fishing trip"? What good is a knight that failed to protect.
Diarmuid let Edward vent as he needed, but went silent for a while after listening to his friend berate himself so for something he didn't have control over. Something beyond anyone's power if a god could be deceived by it.
He knew the guilt and the pain blinded. He knew that nothing would erase this perceived failure, even Diarmuid still felt himself checking if Waver still had a pulse sometimes after last year.
But. He holds a bit tighter.]
I know that right now, you won't believe it. You carry the responsibility of so many others' safety. It feels as though you failed them, deep in your heart you feel "certain" that you failed them because they lost their lives or came to harm. Worse is that it was by your hand.
But I know that you wouldn't say the same if one of your people came to you after what happened. I know you wouldn't tell them they should have been "better" for losing themselves to what you all saw.
Aye, because it's not on them and they weren't in their right minds—
[A beat. He makes an unhappy noise into Diarmuid's shirt, recognizing that he's been outplayed here. Damn it. Diarmuid just had to talk sense. He would never tell anyone he cared about that they should've been better in a situation like that—won't even think it, because he knows the sort of stress the ship had been putting them all under.
So he takes a different tack:] It's my damned job, not theirs. My responsibility. If I fall down and fail them—well. I did, and nearly everyone I cared about died.
[It was second nature for Edward to double down on something. Normally he'd let it be while giving the occasional playful or helpful pushback. Right now, though, it was all pushback. Or rather, the unstoppable force of self loathing was being met with the immovable object of logic.
Logic Diarmuid wouldn't hear for himself. But his failure to realize the danger was something he would contend with another time.]
The ship you all were on forced you to the ground. That is not a fall caused by your actions, it was an act of cruelty not different from the cabin one year ago.
[Albeit from the sounds of it... on a much worse scale. They were meant to act as sacrifices before. Not meant to provide one another as offerings.]
The only time one has truly failed is when they refuse stand again after taking a fall caused by their own conscious actions. [A pause, as if the irony started to set in but just missed the mark.]
I know the sort of man you are, Edward Kenway. You and they have all returned and you will not stop protecting them from anything that will do them harm in the future with all that you are. You will always stand between them and any present danger. Nothing will make you want to change that.
[Knowing this will not mend the wounds that seeing death caused. Nothing will. But there is a future and all Diarmuid can see in it is Edward clawing through dirt, grime, sweat and blood to watch over his people.]
[He'll get back up again. He always does. If there's one thing Edward Kenway does best, it's haul himself back up after a blow, no matter how heavy. This is no different, in truth, he just...needs time. And this, a friend holding him tightly, reassuring him that he'll do better.]
I just...
[He goes quiet, and just breathes.]
...can't believe I'd miss the bloody cabin. But at least we didn't try to kill each other there.
[cough Velvet and Lapis cough.]
I'm—I'll check on them. Make my apologies, see what I can do to help. [In a very tired voice:] And probably I'll have to start looking into something to keep myself from getting dragged off into these places, considering this is the second damned time.
[Vel and Lapis worked their shit out after not too long, it's fine.
Still, the cabin was one of the worst things Diarmuid had ever went through. For his friend to miss it, well, he simply didn't comment on it knowing that it was said in some way just to cope.
Diarmuid desperately wanted to apologize for not being there. But not now... later. Later.]
And that will mean the world and more to them. When they see you standing again, it will help them to stand and walk alongside you.
I'm a stubborn old bastard. Don't know when to stay down so long as I draw breath. [If ever he does it's because he no longer can draw breath. Or something along those lines, considering there are people in this world who technically don't need that.
He breathes in, then out.]
...'s'the second year this has happened. Do you think I ought to start preparing for something like this to happen again when October begins next year?
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october. after the Horrors(tm) voice; un: goldenrose
Why in the world did Diarmuid think that? His friend could be busy often, certainly, but not to the point he was no contact for four days. Even during their trek to Denmark last year he still appeared on the network.
Something was very, very wrong. And around this time last year...
Dammit. His first instinct was to check the Jackdaw so wherever Edward was on the message Diarmuid is leaving he'll hear the faint sound of the seabreeze. Calm compared to the turmoil they were both feeling, but as always Diarmuid's tone was comparatively steady even if he couldn't hide his panic at the edges of it.]
Edward, no one has heard from you in days. Has something happened?
voice; un: captainkenway; one day later
So. Remember what happened last year?
[A beat.]
It was a spaceship this time. Bloody fucking hell.
no subject
[How could he forget what happened last year? How could he forget how his impulse drifted into such an intense overdrive. How could he forget the curse he laid upon the name of those who trapped them after he felt his beloved fall limp in his arms then dare to threaten the safety of two more who held his heart in their hands?
And Edward had to experience such horrors again... if not potentially worse. Diarmuid had no gauge on being in space or spaceships. Even the idea of being among the stars in a literal sense made his head spin.
No wonder it took him a day to respond, but he was quiet for a while in a futile attempt to keep anger from rising in his chest. Two things stopped that. The knightly veneer he had up constantly... and the sense of failure that came with it.]
... Where are you right now?
no subject
[Diarmuid would understand, he thinks. He'd been through that hellhole that had been the cabin. He'd died there. Fuck, Edward had died, and then come back, and that wasn't even getting into all the people he'd cared about that he'd hurt.]
I need—a drink? Or. Even just something to block the light out.
-> action
[And soon meant Soon given he used the full extent of his speed as a Servant rather than standard transportation. He will indulge his friend in bringing a strong drink but also a few small but hearty things to eat, gods knew Team Saber House had no shortage of small snacks.
He can only image that's about all Edward could think to stomach if things were as bad this year as last.
Once he'd arrived and had been let in, he immediately went to his friend's side.]
... The same thing happened to us outside as it did last year. I was none the wiser about you all being taken. I'd... assumed you all had business to attend to.
[It's no excuse but Diarmuid could not help but feel like he ought to bear some responsibility for not being aware.]
no subject
Edward lifts his head up to meet Diarmuid’s eyes, gives a small, tired smile.]
Was it a fishing trip like last time? Would that it were.
[He’s so fucking tired and it bleeds through into his voice.]
…how d’you apologize to someone, for hurting them badly when you were not in your right mind?
no subject
It was, or so everyone believed at any rate. [He managed to keep the bite out of his tone, specifically towards himself.]
... It's often dependent on the severity of what was done, I've found. But... what in the world happened to you all? [What caused this to be something Edward needed to ask? Diarmuid knew it wasn't so simple as one would think.]
no subject
[It's the magic, it's the stupid magic. He knows that if anyone here had realized what was going on they would've ripped open a hole in the spirit realm to retrieve them before things got truly that bad—and the ship couldn't afford for them to be rescued. So.
He curls into a tighter ball when he feels Diarmuid's hand on his back.]
We were—brought onto a ghost ship, floating in space. No crew, no bodies, just blood and some strange viscous liquid and this—this gravity core? I didn't quite understand the explanation. While some of us were poking around that core, it...opened, and dragged us all into it. The things we saw, the things I saw—
[He chokes on his own voice, and turns his face away from Diarmuid's.]
...it drove us insane. We saw enemies everywhere.
no subject
Gods above...
[And for Edward to experience a hell worse than last year. Where, if what he asked Diarmuid was any indicator, they saw other people as enemies...
It broke Diarmuid's heart, but he could only imagine how much it crushed Edward. Putting the pieces together wasn't hard.
Whether he was the sort for this or not, he pulled Edward in for a hug. Not forcing the man to look at him or keeping him so tight that he couldn't pull back if desired. Just enough to make the point while he let hypocrisy speak for him. But was it really that if it was true at least for his friend?]
Listen to me. Whatever took place on that ship... It wasn't your fault. It was not your fault.
no subject
Maybe it's a lucky thing that the one person I did kill was Husk, and he came back anyway to kill me. At least it kept me from killing anyone else.
[His words are pragmatic, but his voice shakes. It's not an easy thing to experience your own death. It's worse when you realize that you broke your own damn oaths and it was the best thing anyone could've done for you.
Softly, wretchedly:] I thought I was better. But I hurt James and Nito—I was supposed to protect my people.
no subject
Diarmuid would remain the steady one, ever the master of compartmentalizing whether he was conscious of it or not. It was useful when he needed to act as one's rock.]
If there were factors playing tricks on your mind, it does not make you worse for falling. I know with absolute certainty you as you are free from that ship would have never done what you did to your people, or anyone innocent.
If you were worse, you would feel nothing right now.
no subject
[Like he'd never learned any better. He chokes on it now, the guilt and the regret, and even the grief, god, such grief. It tastes bitter, tastes ashen.]
The blood is still on my hands. And I—fuck, I don't usually mind, having blood on my hands, if I did I wouldn't be what I am, but it's—it's never been like this, before, it was never like this before. It never belonged to people I'd tried to keep safe, before.
I should've—I should've been better.
no subject
I should have as well, Diarmuid couldn't help thinking. Better at knowing you all were in danger. What use is a Saber-class Servant's innate magic resistance if he can't see through a fake "fishing trip"? What good is a knight that failed to protect.
Diarmuid let Edward vent as he needed, but went silent for a while after listening to his friend berate himself so for something he didn't have control over. Something beyond anyone's power if a god could be deceived by it.
He knew the guilt and the pain blinded. He knew that nothing would erase this perceived failure, even Diarmuid still felt himself checking if Waver still had a pulse sometimes after last year.
But. He holds a bit tighter.]
I know that right now, you won't believe it. You carry the responsibility of so many others' safety. It feels as though you failed them, deep in your heart you feel "certain" that you failed them because they lost their lives or came to harm. Worse is that it was by your hand.
But I know that you wouldn't say the same if one of your people came to you after what happened. I know you wouldn't tell them they should have been "better" for losing themselves to what you all saw.
no subject
[A beat. He makes an unhappy noise into Diarmuid's shirt, recognizing that he's been outplayed here. Damn it. Diarmuid just had to talk sense. He would never tell anyone he cared about that they should've been better in a situation like that—won't even think it, because he knows the sort of stress the ship had been putting them all under.
So he takes a different tack:] It's my damned job, not theirs. My responsibility. If I fall down and fail them—well. I did, and nearly everyone I cared about died.
no subject
Logic Diarmuid wouldn't hear for himself. But his failure to realize the danger was something he would contend with another time.]
The ship you all were on forced you to the ground. That is not a fall caused by your actions, it was an act of cruelty not different from the cabin one year ago.
[Albeit from the sounds of it... on a much worse scale. They were meant to act as sacrifices before. Not meant to provide one another as offerings.]
The only time one has truly failed is when they refuse stand again after taking a fall caused by their own conscious actions. [A pause, as if the irony started to set in but just missed the mark.]
I know the sort of man you are, Edward Kenway. You and they have all returned and you will not stop protecting them from anything that will do them harm in the future with all that you are. You will always stand between them and any present danger. Nothing will make you want to change that.
[Knowing this will not mend the wounds that seeing death caused. Nothing will. But there is a future and all Diarmuid can see in it is Edward clawing through dirt, grime, sweat and blood to watch over his people.]
You didn't fail them. It wasn't your fault.
no subject
I just...
[He goes quiet, and just breathes.]
...can't believe I'd miss the bloody cabin. But at least we didn't try to kill each other there.
[cough Velvet and Lapis cough.]
I'm—I'll check on them. Make my apologies, see what I can do to help. [In a very tired voice:] And probably I'll have to start looking into something to keep myself from getting dragged off into these places, considering this is the second damned time.
no subject
Still, the cabin was one of the worst things Diarmuid had ever went through. For his friend to miss it, well, he simply didn't comment on it knowing that it was said in some way just to cope.
Diarmuid desperately wanted to apologize for not being there. But not now... later. Later.]
And that will mean the world and more to them. When they see you standing again, it will help them to stand and walk alongside you.
no subject
He breathes in, then out.]
...'s'the second year this has happened. Do you think I ought to start preparing for something like this to happen again when October begins next year?