Warnings: parental death, undead Themes: battle, war
Memory One The battlefield is strewn with rubble and dust, and both are stirred up by the rapid wingbeats of your wyvern. And by the wingbeats of another wyvern, hovering above you. You squint up at the rider, a woman in the armor of a knight.
"Gerome?" She calls, voice soft and surprised, but audible over the clamour of battle. "Pardon me, but are you the Gerome of this world?"
"Wha-" you stutter. "But how-? I mean-"
She laughs, taking your stammering as an answer in and of itself. "'Hello, Mother,' would do."
Mother?
"It's so good to see you-- especially in one piece!" She dips, and her mount folds its wings and drops to your level. You and yours backwing in surprise.
"N-no... Stay back!"
They stop, both heads tilted in confusion. "Whatever is the matter?"
"This must be a trap. My mother was killed by Risen long ago. And no matter how much I long to see her... no matter how much Minerva misses her... she can never return." You grit your teeth. "It's not possible. Stay away, you imposter!"
Her face is serious. "Well, I never claimed to be your departed mother. But still..."
Minerva shrills a cry, and you look down, distracted. What's wrong with her? Why is she so happy?
"Thank you, Minerva." She's smiling. Your heart freezes. "She says she's glad to see me, whether I am the Cherche she knew or not."
"You understand her?" What? "Then... you must be my mother. You must..."
"To me, you are a son, Gerome. But I come from another world. So no, I am not the same woman as your mother."
"So you ARE an imposter. I knew it." The disappointment is almost too much to bear. "In that case, leave us... before..." You trail off, and, to your horror, find your eyes damp behind your mask. Cherche notices. Of course she does.
"Do not cry, Gerome... If I am the impostor you say, then those tears are wasted on me."
You're pathetic. "... Wh-what tears?"
"Such a strong boy. Here..." In a moment, in a graceful motion that startles both you and Minerva, she's alongside you, and plucking the mask off your face. "Such a heavy mask you wear... And so much sorrow and pain it was made to hide... I am so sorry I left you. Your mother should have stayed with you till the end. But you see? That is how I know how strong you are. You never gave up." You swallow, unable to look away from her determined expression. "Now that your struggles near their end, I am here to struggle with you. You needn't accept me as your mother, but all the same, I swear to defend you and Minerva both. Where this world's Cherche failed, I intend to succeed."
"You'll fight by my side? But why trouble yourself with a stranger's problems?"
Her eyes widen. "You are no stranger. You are my son-- in any world. Taking care of you is my greatest joy!"
Oh.
"Thank you, Mother."
"Here," she seems suddenly self-conscious, but places the mask back against your face with surety despite the motion of your wyverns. "You probably want this back."
"And, Mother?"
"You do not have to say it. I already know, Gerome. And I love you too."
Memory Two The sound of crickets; footsteps approach. It's Inigo.
"Here you are, Gerome."
"What do you want."
"Don’t look at me like that! I came to apologize, for earlier."
"Earlier?"
"When we got in a fight and Laurent yelled at us. A lot’s happened… so I didn’t get a chance to give a proper apology… so, sorry about trying to hit you."
"You don’t have to come all this way to apologize for that. … It was my fault too."
"Ah! Gerome… thank you."
You shift. "Is that all?"
"Um, well… about tomorrow…" He sneaks a glance at you. "You aren’t going after all, huh."
You grunt softly, but don't answer.
"Haha, well… I guess I don’t have to ask. You always hated the idea…"
"You’re going, right?"
"I’m…" He trails off, and you walk in silence for a moment before he speaks again. "I’m staying too, Gerome."
"Everyone says they’re going to the past. Even the ones who said they weren’t going, or that they were confused. Everyone. So the only one who’s staying behind is you. No matter how strong you are, staying behind all by yourself to fight… that’s just crazy. So…"
"How pointless."
You take another step, but he's stopped.
"Wha…?"
"I don’t need your pity. Didn’t you already decide to go? You were incredibly convinced that it was the right choice."
"Yeah. I had decided to go. I wanted to save this world with my own hands… you might call it playing at being best friends, but even so… I can’t stand the idea of not being together with everyone until the very end." He takes several steps, past you. "But…" He turns. "Even more than that, I can’t stand the idea of leaving someone behind all by themselves!"
You sigh.
"Don’t worry! ‘Cause I won’t get in the way. When you say it’s time to fight, you can use me as your shield if you want, and…"
You give a longer sigh. "Inigo."
Inigo whirls around. "Uh—um—what?"
"If everyone were going to the past, you’d go?"
"Um… yes, but… since you’re…"
"Then go make your preparations."
"Huh?"
"I’m not going to be responsible for keeping you here."
"You mean…"
"This conversation is over. Let’s go." You straighten your cape in a swish of fabric, and raise your voice. "Minerva!"
From the sky, a wyvern, your wyvern, Minerva, stoops and drops to the ground at your side. Minerva screeches and flaps her wings.
Inigo takes a few steps. "Gerome, waita—!"
You would have stayed. Gladly so. But Inigo coming to you like he did, refusing to leave you on your own, touched you in a way you never expected. It made you happy to have someone care so much about you that they would be willing to give up so much just to make sure you weren't alone. So of course, you would have to go also. You couldn't allow Inigo to do such a thing... But you never told him how happy that day made you. That for that brief, shining moment, you felt like you had a friend.
Memory Three Gerome lost his parents early on... He never saw them die. They were always off fighting the Risen, the undead minions of Grima. His dad was the first to go... The pain of his loss was great. But it was when his mother died shortly after that Gerome felt his greatest pain.
He was at home when Minerva, his mother's wyvern, returned without her.
A young Gerome would sob, crying for his lost family, clinging to the wyvern's neck, the only family he had left.
It was only in the dark of night did the fears come. The terror of knowing that his parents had been killed by Risen. That their bodies had never been found. That some day... he might find them, walking the hills, and be forced the murder them. To kill them to put them out of their misery. For years that dream haunted Gerome. For years he would look on the faces of the Risen, half expecting to see one so very familiar to himself...
He loved his parents. He was so very proud of them and what they stood for. Gerome couldn't imagine a world where he would have to kill them...
Gerome | Theo
Themes: battle, war
Memory One The battlefield is strewn with rubble and dust, and both are stirred up by the rapid wingbeats of your wyvern. And by the wingbeats of another wyvern, hovering above you. You squint up at the rider, a woman in the armor of a knight.
"Gerome?" She calls, voice soft and surprised, but audible over the clamour of battle. "Pardon me, but are you the Gerome of this world?"
"Wha-" you stutter. "But how-? I mean-"
She laughs, taking your stammering as an answer in and of itself. "'Hello, Mother,' would do."
Mother?
"It's so good to see you-- especially in one piece!" She dips, and her mount folds its wings and drops to your level. You and yours backwing in surprise.
"N-no... Stay back!"
They stop, both heads tilted in confusion. "Whatever is the matter?"
"This must be a trap. My mother was killed by Risen long ago. And no matter how much I long to see her... no matter how much Minerva misses her... she can never return." You grit your teeth. "It's not possible. Stay away, you imposter!"
Her face is serious. "Well, I never claimed to be your departed mother. But still..."
Minerva shrills a cry, and you look down, distracted. What's wrong with her? Why is she so happy?
"Thank you, Minerva." She's smiling. Your heart freezes. "She says she's glad to see me, whether I am the Cherche she knew or not."
"You understand her?" What? "Then... you must be my mother. You must..."
"To me, you are a son, Gerome. But I come from another world. So no, I am not the same woman as your mother."
"So you ARE an imposter. I knew it." The disappointment is almost too much to bear. "In that case, leave us... before..." You trail off, and, to your horror, find your eyes damp behind your mask. Cherche notices. Of course she does.
"Do not cry, Gerome... If I am the impostor you say, then those tears are wasted on me."
You're pathetic. "... Wh-what tears?"
"Such a strong boy. Here..." In a moment, in a graceful motion that startles both you and Minerva, she's alongside you, and plucking the mask off your face. "Such a heavy mask you wear... And so much sorrow and pain it was made to hide... I am so sorry I left you. Your mother should have stayed with you till the end. But you see? That is how I know how strong you are. You never gave up." You swallow, unable to look away from her determined expression. "Now that your struggles near their end, I am here to struggle with you. You needn't accept me as your mother, but all the same, I swear to defend you and Minerva both. Where this world's Cherche failed, I intend to succeed."
"You'll fight by my side? But why trouble yourself with a stranger's problems?"
Her eyes widen. "You are no stranger. You are my son-- in any world. Taking care of you is my greatest joy!"
Oh.
"Thank you, Mother."
"Here," she seems suddenly self-conscious, but places the mask back against your face with surety despite the motion of your wyverns. "You probably want this back."
"And, Mother?"
"You do not have to say it. I already know, Gerome. And I love you too."
Memory Two The sound of crickets; footsteps approach. It's Inigo.
"Here you are, Gerome."
"What do you want."
"Don’t look at me like that! I came to apologize, for earlier."
"Earlier?"
"When we got in a fight and Laurent yelled at us. A lot’s happened… so I didn’t get a chance to give a proper apology… so, sorry about trying to hit you."
"You don’t have to come all this way to apologize for that. … It was my fault too."
"Ah! Gerome… thank you."
You shift. "Is that all?"
"Um, well… about tomorrow…" He sneaks a glance at you. "You aren’t going after all, huh."
You grunt softly, but don't answer.
"Haha, well… I guess I don’t have to ask. You always hated the idea…"
"You’re going, right?"
"I’m…" He trails off, and you walk in silence for a moment before he speaks again. "I’m staying too, Gerome."
"Everyone says they’re going to the past. Even the ones who said they weren’t going, or that they were confused. Everyone. So the only one who’s staying behind is you. No matter how strong you are, staying behind all by yourself to fight… that’s just crazy. So…"
"How pointless."
You take another step, but he's stopped.
"Wha…?"
"I don’t need your pity. Didn’t you already decide to go? You were incredibly convinced that it was the right choice."
"Yeah. I had decided to go. I wanted to save this world with my own hands… you might call it playing at being best friends, but even so… I can’t stand the idea of not being together with everyone until the very end." He takes several steps, past you. "But…" He turns. "Even more than that, I can’t stand the idea of leaving someone behind all by themselves!"
You sigh.
"Don’t worry! ‘Cause I won’t get in the way. When you say it’s time to fight, you can use me as your shield if you want, and…"
You give a longer sigh. "Inigo."
Inigo whirls around. "Uh—um—what?"
"If everyone were going to the past, you’d go?"
"Um… yes, but… since you’re…"
"Then go make your preparations."
"Huh?"
"I’m not going to be responsible for keeping you here."
"You mean…"
"This conversation is over. Let’s go." You straighten your cape in a swish of fabric, and raise your voice. "Minerva!"
From the sky, a wyvern, your wyvern, Minerva, stoops and drops to the ground at your side. Minerva screeches and flaps her wings.
Inigo takes a few steps. "Gerome, waita—!"
You would have stayed. Gladly so. But Inigo coming to you like he did, refusing to leave you on your own, touched you in a way you never expected. It made you happy to have someone care so much about you that they would be willing to give up so much just to make sure you weren't alone. So of course, you would have to go also. You couldn't allow Inigo to do such a thing... But you never told him how happy that day made you. That for that brief, shining moment, you felt like you had a friend.
Memory Three Gerome lost his parents early on... He never saw them die. They were always off fighting the Risen, the undead minions of Grima. His dad was the first to go... The pain of his loss was great. But it was when his mother died shortly after that Gerome felt his greatest pain.
He was at home when Minerva, his mother's wyvern, returned without her.
A young Gerome would sob, crying for his lost family, clinging to the wyvern's neck, the only family he had left.
It was only in the dark of night did the fears come. The terror of knowing that his parents had been killed by Risen. That their bodies had never been found. That some day... he might find them, walking the hills, and be forced the murder them. To kill them to put them out of their misery. For years that dream haunted Gerome. For years he would look on the faces of the Risen, half expecting to see one so very familiar to himself...
He loved his parents. He was so very proud of them and what they stood for. Gerome couldn't imagine a world where he would have to kill them...