late night reading

[curzed]

Who: Konrad Curze, Kaiisteron, later on: you?
What: Making Mistakes
When: sometime after 'night', it's obligatory (several days before Storytime)
Where: Somewhere in the Stacks, it's a big library. Probably time-out later. Maybe worse places.
Content warnings: Violence, daemons, primarchs, gratuitous bodily harm, the problems with uncontrolled powers, making a mess.



Sooner or later, someone in power is going to regret the group of misfits that have been taken here as Editors.

Like Konrad. He's been more or less behaving since arriving, aside from commandeering ALL cardstock of a particular color and texture, collecting singing bowls of a dozen sizes and leaving them in little clusters in the kitchen and bunks, and leaving a trail of fine, tiny glitter for several days on everything he touched. His efforts to find a way out of the Library are ongoing and unfruitful, prowling the Stacks without bothering to sleep more than once in several days.

But this time his path through the endless shelves of books is for a different purpose in simply putting as much distance between himself and the other people dragged here as he could. He has no control over when his 'gifts' chose to strike and drown him in the worst outcomes possible, but he does know when it's coming, and here there's no locked room with reinforced doors to make use of. Distance will have to do. There is a point, in the rending pain of things that haven't even happened yet, where Curze can no longer tell where he is now in favor of where he will be then.

It makes for a pathetic sight, something his size on the floor with his head in his hands in the shadows between towering shelves scaled towards his height and not human average, back pressed against the cold rows of books.

The sharp scent of blood is probably fine too. Ignore it. Everything's fine here.

Comments

[curzed]

In his defense he didn't know the containers were quite THAT fragile. Now he knows. He also knows now that Sanguinius doesn't usally have that specific side effect. Which means more precautions perhaps are needed. Or experimentation.

"I told you. You were too heavy." Which is saying something. Like all his brothers, he can easily move around several tons when he chooses to, and Sanguinius isn't that heavy. "Needs must and all that."

[angel_of_baal]

Sanguinius does not relish either precautions or experimentation. He is not fragile. He is fine, in fact, right here and now.

"I should not be." There, out in the open. Curze should have been able to move him. If not easily (dead weight and dragging wings notwithstanding), then at least competently.

He had been squatting down on his heels. Now he leans forward, kneeling closer to his brother. "Did they do something to you?" The servitor said the drones didn't listen in. Time would tell if that was truth.

[curzed]

There really isn't anywhere to retreat to when already sitting on the floor with his back to a bookshelf. But there's really no mistaking that he's not at all keen on having a certain space between himself and Sanguinius breached by that lean forward. That or he's not interested in reviewing too closely the most recent series of events, from the visions to Kai's almost-death to the discussion with the library assistants.

He could remember all of that conversation, no matter how disoriented he'd been at the time. A feeling that had yet to fade. "None touched me. I felt no psyker power." And yet. The index cards. "Weakness and weariness after ... more vivid episodes is common."

That's all it is, surely.

[angel_of_baal]

He's not trying to intrude into Curze's space: he's trying to visually inspect his brother, and the low light and the glitter and the ...other things streaked over Curze's skin made it a little difficult to know what he was looking at.

"Is that all?" If you're going to lie to him, brother, lie right to his face, right there, in front of you.

[curzed]

He looks about the same as ever, aside from the new coat of Kai blood he's decided to inflict on his pants and cloak by rubbing SOME of the mess off his hand, both of which have obviously been used for such a thing before. No wounds for him.

It's not intentional lying at least, there's every sign of that much. Curze is an incorrigible liar if it serves his purposes, but the pause when Sanguinius presses his question is one of reviewing, as best he can, recent events. There were gaps, but there always were when that happened.

"I don't know." The conclusion he reaches isn't one he likes. He lived by absolute certainties, very little escaped his notice or his foresight aside from those insufferable blank spots. "One of the 'assistants' ... reminded me of father when he's trying to pretend to be a baseline human." He couldn't ever actually entirely pull it off, when anyone not ordinary human was paying attention, but the Emperor could almost manage. Things.. bled through, inevitably. "The other.."

No. They must have done something. Richard Edwards had said his abilities were being archived. Had been aware Curze wasn't feeling right. Still wasn't feeling right. He'd asked them then what they'd done, though the explanation hadn't made sense. "..Claimed my 'capacity for murder' has been archived."

[angel_of_baal]

The 'I don't know' hits like a chainblade. They're primarchs. They're supposed to know. They're not supposed to not know...anything. They're also not supposed to kill innocents, or try to.

Just like they're also not supposed to fall unconscious before a daemonic enemy, or at the taste of blood. Sanguinius is starting to not like it here.

He's also not fond of that comparison. How powerful were these Librarians? He wished Kano were here.

But that makes...not a great deal of sense. "Archived? What does that mean?" What does that even mean? "How can someone be stopped from killing?" Especially as it was, well, part of their job. "But you can be, yourself, killed?" Does Curze need a bodyguard?

[curzed]

Generally he doesn't kill innocents. Not without very good reason to - or at least what he considers a good reason. Kai was a mistake, and one he's only marginally relieved didn't actually end in death.

He wasn't inclined to give his own crimes a free pass simply because it's him. "It was not explained to me, though the other one, Phillip, said once I have questions compiled I can ask after them. He's the one that isn't what he seems to be." What that IS, he didn't know. He didn't have the senses for it.

Magnus might know, or Lorgar.

"No." He can't be killed here, he's meant to die somewhere else-- "Not here. And not any time soon. The manner and time of my death hasn't changed by being here." And that, Curze is absolutely certain of. "The law that was quoted to me did not sound exclusive to myself, presumably all of you are under its authority as well. If you want to attempt killing to be sure, let me take my cloak off first, I rather like it."

The utter blandness the offer is made with belies its utter seriousness; Curze isn't at all afraid he might suddenly actually die. It's impossible.

[angel_of_baal]

Well, here's an uncomfortable thought. "Is it possible this Phillip is," how to put this nicely, "one of the Warp entities such as I have encountered?" Eldritch and unknowable powers? It is a possibility.

"I'm not fully sure the rules of this place are the same as the materium." He's developing Theories, but this was Magnus's expertise, really. He's just trying to configure things in a way that makes any kind of sense.

Meaning, perhaps Curze ought not put too much faith in what he knows of his future.

Sanguinius's face folds into a frown of distaste. "Do you think so poorly of me, brother? I came to help you. Try to help you." It hadn't gone so well so far.

[curzed]

"I haven't encountered one, I have no means to compare beyond secondhand, sparse information." He's not impressed by the idea. If gods are real, then there is much They need to answer for. If they are not real, then he's going to find ways to kill the ones claiming divinity without being able to back it up.

But Curze's impression hadn't been something utterly inhuman wearing a human shape. Just.. human+, maybe. "The rules are analogous enough to pass muster. 'Thou shalt not kill' is as old as the human race, and seems to be a firm line in the sand here as well."

As far as he knows, he's never been wrong. All his visions inevitably, relentlessly come true, as inexorable as the tide. He doesn't need to second guess it. "Is it still thinking poorly of you if I know you can't actually do it?" His smile is a flash of sharp teeth, but it doesn't last long. "Can't or won't. Events will conspire. I will live on." Whether or not he wanted to. "My victim, Kaiisteron should be dead," he adds as an afterthought. "I struck hard enough to kill my own astartes. If the powers that hold sway here can reverse that then there's nothing to fear."

[angel_of_baal]

Sanguinius gives a frustrated sigh--not aimed at Curze, but this whole situation. "We need a proper Librarian. Our kind." The very kind their father has denied. But still.

"Killing is a part of our existence, brother." His Blood Angels were loyal, but they fought, they were meant to fight, and they needed war as much as the Emperor's wars needed them. "Some rules do not apply to us."

"Do not underestimate my abilities." He was probably not the most likely to contravene fate--that would be Magnus--but if it came to it, he very possibly might also bend the world to his will.

"Are you suggesting this place can heal mortal wounds, or that Kaiisteron is stronger than one of our sons?" He's not sure which option is worse. He'll wait to decide.

[curzed]

A solid two or three entire minutes pass before Konrad says anything again, watching Sanguinius unblinkingly, brow slightly furrowed. Whatever thoughts are rattling around inside that head, they're probably not pleasant ones.

"I know it can heal mortal wounds," he begins slowly, "But that aside, why are you intent on taking so much as a personal offense? Not just what I say, but what that servitor did as well. I may be unfamiliar with your temperament, brother, but every tale I've ever heard of you praises your sweetness, not such a strong impression of fears of inferiority."

[angel_of_baal]

'That aside'. As if it were nothing.

And it wasn't nothing. They both knew that. But it was Curze's attempt, once again, to divert from the topic at hand.

He had sought Curze out because of concern, wanting to hear his side before he judged--wanting, in fact, not to judge. If he were honest, he wanted to find a way to back Curze in front of others.

And it had turned into...this mess. This accusation.

It was going nowhere, that was clear. He had precious little dignity left, but he gathered the tatters of what he had around him, rising to his feet. "You mistake my concern for weakness. Others have done so in the past, in error." He flicks a wing, sticky with blood, dismayed. "I have taken enough of your time and you have taken enough of my patience. I will leave you to your rest."

[curzed]

Aside from a slow inhalation, and equally slow exhale through clenched teeth, Curze says nothing. This is precisely why he didn't bother trying to reach out to his brothers. It didn't matter what he said or did, it would inevitably be taken the worst possible way, just as relentlessly negative as his foresight was.

In that, at least, there was familiar symmetry. One hand rises briefly, impossible to tell if it's a goodbye or a dismissal; it doesn't look like Curze is intending to move any time soon.