Date: 2023-06-23 04:54 am (UTC)
haravatits: (pic#16347986)
From: [personal profile] haravatits
[ kaveh takes the glass of water. the rainbow shifts across his skin, a little wavering seven-fold fan of light trembling as if on the surface of an endless sea. that's the thing with perspectives. kaveh, the hero, was an etude for the solo performance of a solitary man. that is merely another way of saying that his ideals didn't resonate with anyone enough to spur them to action until he had died for them. kaveh had died without companionship. it had taken alhaitham the third day to ask himself thus: what would trust look like for a person who has never had a reason to exercise it?

the question is one that alhaitham has been expecting since the beginning of this debacle. the pages of it weighs in the crook of his arms as he looks down, the green-red of his eyes tracing the aged vellum for its hooks and creases. alhaitham places the book back onto the counter. he allows the light from kaveh's glass to shimmer over it. the colour of the vellum refracts. brown, becomes green, becomes gold.

this time, alhaitham's smile is a hook of a thing.
]

A fragment of my creator's memories. It documents her lived experiences three hundred years ago as she pieced together the bones that make up this farce of a war. You will use it to build for me what I am searching for.

Date: 2023-06-23 10:29 pm (UTC)
haravatits: (pic#16476242)
From: [personal profile] haravatits
[ interesting.

alhaitham looks. the cant of his head is that of a creature having discovered a new shape of a puzzle. he considers the irony of the premise: a homunculus without his memory, paired with a servant who remembers less. the greater grail is clockwork. in its uninteresting in its predictability. you will only summon a servant missing part of its memory if you were actively corrupting the flow of data from the throne of heroes to the leyline of this reality, or if the servant was already dispositioned towards forgetting. that alhaitham and his servant share the same concern needs to be a coincidence, but even coincidences can be manufactured.

in turn, alhaitham observes the fidget of kaveh's hands against the glass.
]

Have you had pomegranate?

[ apropos of nothing, this is the question that comes. ]

Date: 2023-06-25 01:05 am (UTC)
haravatits: (pic#16516032)
From: [personal profile] haravatits
[ kaveh lifts his eyes. his eyes, alhaitham thinks, are in a constant flux of motion. the indignant roll of them as kaveh swept into the room, the flicker down as the weight of his emotions fell short, the widening of such in hope, and the cooler pinks as said hope congealed. now, kaveh looks up. the refraction of the light from the glass dances gold across kaveh's knuckles and splashes a bright swathe across kaveh's cheek. the servant's eyes are a liquid red. nascent rubies still-sleeping within the mantle of teyvat's crust dream of such a colour. for a brief moment, the fidgeting of his hands seem to cease.

in answer, alhaitham opens his fridge. he takes out a pomegranate. in truth, he is not fond of the fruit. the dasher who delivered alhaitham's groceries had slipped it in with the other fruits as thanks for alhaitham's tendency to calculate his tips based on a livable city wage. the fruit is work to pick apart for very little reward. the taste is sharp and the seeds more so. he cracks open the pomegranate with his bare hands. alhaitham places one glistening wax and garnet half of the chambered fruit onto the counter, and the other into kaveh's hand.
]

Pick at that if you have to bother your hands with something to do. [ is what alhaitham says. and then: ] She has only kept the one journal. I remember enough to ascertain as such. Were you known for deficits in memory in your life?

Date: 2023-06-27 04:22 am (UTC)
haravatits: (pic#16354414)
From: [personal profile] haravatits
[ kaveh begins to pick at the fruit. the air is equal parts sweet and acrid for it. alhaitham considers the premise. ]

No. [ he says. the word is a statement unto itself. 'no' is a full sentence. it bears no elaboration. but alhaitham hears the curl of the question before it can be voiced. he continues, in that selfsame tone: ] Nothing in the summoning went wrong. Or, put more accurately, I cannot have summoned incorrectly.

[ alhaitham looks to his servant. ] Consider this example. Are you aware of modern plumbing principles?

Date: 2023-07-02 08:00 am (UTC)
haravatits: (pic#16354416)
From: [personal profile] haravatits
[ it is common language enough, alhaitham thinks. ]

Plumbing evolves. The history of plumbing stems from the mere creation of slanted tiled spaces that carry waste water down a gully; it evolved them into simple, slanted drainage to carry waste water down basic clay pipes, carried only via the power of gravity. Since then, improvements have been made incrementally in each and every shape and form: tapered pipes to prevent sediment build-up, perfect joint sockets to prevent leakage, a sophisticated understanding of water pressure and s-shaped piping to prevent the back-lash of gas build-up.

[ the green of alhaitham's eyes stand only to accentuate the rust-red of his iris. it burns like something terribly inhuman as he assesses, first, the light playing across his book, and second, the set of kaveh's gaze. ] But through it all, the fundamentals have not changed: water enters a pipe, and exits the other end.

[ the lazy flick of alhaitham's wrist. he goes on: ]

In this analogy, the Grail is the piping. Over hundreds of years, the quality of the magic circuits built into the Greater Grail has gained sophistication, its formulae have been tweaked, its base components stripped down and reapplied through the hands of masters. It has gained in efficiency and accuracy both. The mana that travels from the Throne of Heroes to the Grail activation sequence runs through fine pipes the size and consistency of spider webbing. But, I assert: no matter how complex the system has grown, the fundamentals have not changed. Mana enters a pipe, and exits the other end.

[ bloodless, with the confidence of immovable stone: ] I am the pipe. Human hands can create a faulty arrangement of pipes, but the pipe itself cannot be wrong. You cannot fault stone for having been carved into its shape; you cannot fault the flow of wind across the valley. I cannot be faulted, because I am not capable of making that mistake.

Therefore, if there has been a mistake, it could only have occurred in two place: at the source itself, within the Throne of Heroes, or in the translation of your mana to this current era.

Date: 2023-07-04 12:55 am (UTC)
haravatits: (pic#16347989)
From: [personal profile] haravatits
[ kaveh thinks. alhaitham waits. the answer is no more illuminating, though it provides the basis for eliminating a few of the more unlikely theories. gone is the potential of the throne having erased a core component in order to self-correct. gone is the potential of a missing energy or memory source gated behind the mysteries of this world. gone is the potential of missing magic circuits or a skill translated poorly in an era where feats of heroes have been replaced by feats of technology. the block, alhaitham thinks, is akin to that of a closed door. a password-locked file. a window that has long-since been sealed. kaveh is a home without a key. this, alhaitham is capable of understanding.

the green of his gaze flits. kaveh's hands are steady. slowly, then, alhaitham shakes his head.
]

Easier, but less effective. [ ease is not alhaitham's major concern - completion is. holistically, a memory either exists or does not. it is a binary in motion, not a what-if statement. it ought not require reconstruction. but theory has never been enough to understand the complexities of a mind. alhaitham is its facsimile; there is, then, nothing more to it.

the explanation comes, no more and no less than what is warranted:
] I have its pieces. I require its reconstruction. To that end, you were not summoned for the purpose of winning the war.

[ however, alhaitham looks. the tilt of his head is that of a bird upon its perch, claws curling around the wood of its stand as it considers a mote of light against a window. ]

However, should you desire it, I am amenable to a negotiation.

Date: 2023-07-04 06:56 am (UTC)
haravatits: (pic#16476242)
From: [personal profile] haravatits
[ the stick and the carrot. the basic principles of a hundred years' worth of thaumaturgical development and magecraft creation boiled down to these two, simple principles. the spirits from the throne of heroes could not be moved for less, or move. this, alhaitham knows. they, too, were once human. perhaps that is what gave them their flaw, that their deeds and accomplishments were superimposed upon the fabric of their humanity and distilled down to the mere essence of their flaws. where history saw monuments to progress, humanity only ever saw themselves. this, too, is a flaw in humanity, but alhaitham knows that he is not beyond it. after all, he had been created by human hands, and humans only know how to create things that reflect themselves.

the journal had been proof. between its pages lay words that run along the grain of the building blocks of alhaitham's own circuitry, the same cadence of his thoughts and the tone espoused. the building blocks of alhaitham lives within these pages; he is a mere formula-made-form. the prospect fascinates him. it is, after all, another flaw.

observe-

this is what alhaitham says, with some faint echo of what could be construed as amusement:
]

You were a poor negotiator in life.

Date: 2023-07-05 11:00 pm (UTC)
haravatits: (pic#16516032)
From: [personal profile] haravatits
There you are.

[ alhaitham says to the mere shadow of light in the room. kaveh vanishes in motes of gold and spinning stardust, and alhaitham looks into the space that he had once inhabited with the gentle curve of his eyes. his hands splay over his book, before he opens the journal once more. words tumble forth like a stream. alhaitham does not need to read to understand their meaning.

there had been a tale, once, of kaveh the saviour, who had met an army from across the river. thirty days and thirty nights of negotiation could not sway the army, for they held the high bank of the river and could not be approached. kaveh the saviour, who had finally run the course of his patience, came to the mouth of the river, and built an embankment to divert its flow. in a mere half a day, the camps of the enemy were nothing but knee-deep mire and swamp. the allied forces crossed the dampened river and routed them. there were other tales too - snippets of kaveh the saviour dancing witht the goddess, kaveh the saviour with his hair beset with dazzling jewels, paragraphs upon paragraphs of his delicate beauty like that of a fallen rose - but alhaitham had liked the story of the river best.

he says, to the sullen air:
]

There you are, Kaveh, Saviour of Sumeru, Light of the Kshahrewar and he who denied the yoke. I was wondering where you have been. [ alhaitham turns the page. ] Dimming yourself doesn't suit you. Before the diplomat, you were the flame. You saved Sumeru because you did not give the opposing armies what they wanted, when they wanted. Why should do so for me?

[ then: quieter - ]

Come out, or not - it matters not to me. Do as a proper negotiator will: I summoned a Servant to be my equal, not my slave. Tell me your wish, and I will tell you mine.

Date: 2023-07-08 11:06 am (UTC)
haravatits: (pic#16409121)
From: [personal profile] haravatits
Mine is that I do not have one.

[ alhaitham says this with the clarity of a man in an age long-past, standing in the forum of his peers, diction the simplicity of a struck bell. it is merely the truth. the absence of a wish is a wish unto itself. alhaitham knows, that what he is declaring is thus: that he is alhaitham, and that no wish can hold him.

he continues, in that self-same tone:
] To wish is to declare that your desire are outside the realm of your ability to obtain it. To that end, given that the Grail is a tool that actualises desire, no desire cast into the Grail can be considered a wish - it is akin to putting meat through a meat grinder, or water through a pump. If your desire is one outside your own capability to obtain, then either you must find the appropriate tool to actualise it, or you change your desire to one that can be obtained by your own abilities.

[ this alhaitham says, to the servant who has again materialised with his back to the table. kaveh is gold in the slant of the noon light. he does not look at alhaitham. he does not need to. alhaitham looks, and sees in the line of his back and the set of his shoulders a man who gazes into the mire of his own personal abyss.

alhaitham turns another page in his book. he concludes, quiet, dispassionate, like the sliding of page against vellum:
]

But if we speak of desires, I have many. The one that you are able to help me with is my desire for a reconstruction of a lost memory. In that sense, you are my Grail. This should be simple enough to understand.

Date: 2023-08-20 02:42 pm (UTC)
haravatits: (pic#16497824)
From: [personal profile] haravatits
[ my wish is to live again, kaveh of sumeru says. alhaitham listens. of course he does. in his first memories of the world, alhaitham had been but a single node in a network of nodes. the transference of magical energy does not require sentience. it only needs the existence of magic circuits, and energy willing to traverse along it. and so it goes, that alhaitham had existed as a mere component of an unending water wheel. it wasn't until the need for self-actualisation that sentience had been encouraged. but that does not mean, however, that there was never any thought. magic circuits run along the same principles as activated neurons. entire networks of them, through a complex exchange of chemicals, receivers and receiverships create the components needed for thought to actualise. in essence, it is like creating a computer through a network of vials of water. alhaitham has always had sentience. he merely didn't have any reason to care that he did.

but in the beginning, alhaitham had listened to the stories of the earth. sumeru is a country. sumeru is a state. sumeru is a collection of stories. sumeru is a land that sings beneath its awning soil. sumeru is a land that remembers its heroes. and there are no heroes that sumeru loves more so and more dearly than kaveh of sumeru.

he wishes to live again. a hush falls. sunlight falls. motes of dust glint in the unnatural stillness of alhaitham's cloistered workshop. even a reality marble would not have been as complete.

then:
]

Why would it be selfish of you? [ is what alhaitham says in the wake of it. in the wake of a wish as light as a feather, the kind of wish carried by mondstadtian dandelions floating on the wings of migratory birds. it's the kind of wish that a child would make; it is the kind of wish that a king would make; it is the kind of wish that a world would make. alhaitham says: ] From whose perspective is the judgment cast, and why would they be allowed to make such a judgment? Your wish is your own. From the very beginning, the very existence of life is predicated on their desire to live. To say that you are selfish in wanting this is to say that all life is selfish. As I, too, am living, I can assert that I reject that premise. I am not selfish, therefore you cannot be.

[ alhaitham looks. the lift of his gaze from his book is steady. kaveh seems golden for it. ]

Now we are met, Kaveh of Sumeru.

[ the declaration is thus: that this is their first meeting, the meeting of minds. alhaitham of the homunculi has met kaveh of sumeru, and known him. ]

Custom Text

Seasons may change, winter to spring,
but I love you until the end of time.