Claude von Riegan (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
goldenherd) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
kaisou2022-07-02 09:41 pm
goldenherd) wrote in kaisou2022-07-02 09:41 pm
Entry tags:
[001] 'Cause you won't rewrite history to commemorate the likes of me
WHO: Claude von Riegan
WHERE: The no-good very bad arrival labyrinth, a random side-street
WHEN: July 2nd, or like, whenever really
WHAT: Claude aggressively masks his way through a nervous breakdown
WARNINGS: Violence, discussion of character death and feelings of guilt/trauma surrounding that, racism/xenophobia, jaywalking
1. The Labyrinth
WHERE: The no-good very bad arrival labyrinth, a random side-street
WHEN: July 2nd, or like, whenever really
WHAT: Claude aggressively masks his way through a nervous breakdown
WARNINGS: Violence, discussion of character death and feelings of guilt/trauma surrounding that, racism/xenophobia, jaywalking
1. The Labyrinth
- Claude's not really expecting to wake up. He's not a religious man, and even if he were, the faith he grew up with had a lot more to say about returning peacefully to the land than any notions of a conscious, waking afterlife like some sects of the Church of Seiros seemed to believe. And he is dead, he's sure of it. The last thing he remembers is kneeling next to his mortally injured wyvern while Teach stood over him with the Sword of the Creator in hand, raised up like an executioner's axe. That's not the kind of thing a person walks away from.
He shudders, lying in the grass and admittedly a little scared to open his eyes. Raising a shaking hand, he presses it to his shoulder and finds it uninjured, despite distinctly remembering one of Bernadetta's arrows finding its mark there. Huh. Come to think of it, he isn't in any pain at all right now - aside from the fact that he seems to be lying on top of his quiver, which is really more uncomfortable than actually painful. Sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth, he sits up and, bracing himself, opens his eyes to see... a castle?
No, not just any castle. A monastery. Garreg Mach Monastery, in full bloom of spring, as it had been when he'd first set foot there some six years ago. The patch of grass he's found himself in is the lawn outside the classrooms, still decorated with the livery of the Kingdom, the Empire, and the Alliance. He frowns. Hadn't Edelgard started using this place as a base of operations? Had they simply knocked him unconscious and brought him here to be healed, for some reason? He guesses they could be assuming he had some valuable information to give them, on what might be left of the Alliance's resistance, or... elsewhere, but why dump him outside, with no supervision in sight? And, more confusingly, why leave Failnaught lying right next to him?
Frowning, he picks up the heavy, intricate bow, expecting it to judder unsettlingly to life in his hands, but it doesn't. There's none of the lightness and thrum of energy he's accustomed to feeling when he touches it, no subtle red glow or flexing of its spines. He's only just starting to contemplate why that is when he sees a flash of bright pink hair out of the corner of his eye, disappearing into the old Golden Deer classroom.
"Hilda?" He calls out without thinking about it. But no, that can't be her. He saw her fall, helpless to do anything from up in the sky on wyvernback. Whoever it is, though, is the only person he's seen so far, so he gets to his feet and follows after, only to find -
All of them. They're all here. Lorenz, Leonie, Raphael, Ignatz, Marianne, Hilda, Lysithea, standing with their backs to the door but unmistakably themselves. Claude swallows hard, trying to keep a level head. This could be some kind of trick. It has to be. Half of them are dead, and the others are scattered to the winds. There's no reason for them all to be here.
He wants to say something witty. Greet them like it's nothing, like he isn't tearing himself apart wanting it to be real but not trusting it to be. Lorenz speaks, though, before he can come up with anything.
"Disgraceful," he says, still facing away. "I knew you were unfit to lead all along, but this? It's utterly shameful."
Oh. Well. That's to be expected. Claude swallows hard. "Yeah? But tell me how you really feel, Lorenz," he says, but there's no bite to it, no playfulness. Just exhaustion.
"This is no time for jokes, Claude," says Ignatz, reproachful and sad. "If that's even your real name?"
"You lied to us," Lysithea adds before he can cut in, scornfully. "You've been lying to all of us since the day we met."
"We would've followed you anywhere." Raphael's broad shoulders sag, but neither he nor any of the rest of them look at him, all facing the front of the class. "Some of us followed you to the end. And you lied about everything."
"You guys, I -" Claude chokes, unsure of what to say. A part of him knows by now that this isn't real - can't be real, but it's not enough to keep him from feeling every accusation like a knife to the heart. Especially not when Hilda speaks up, her voice colder than he's ever heard it before.
"If I'd known you were one of them -" and the word drips with a visceral disgust as she says it. Them. Lower than the lowest of vermin. "I would've never listened to you." The others murmur their assent, some more hesitant than others but all in agreement.
"You shouldn't have listened to me," Claude admits, quietly. "Maybe you would've lived, if you hadn't. I'm sorry." It feels hollow, saying that. But it's all he can offer.
- By the time he makes it out of the labyrinth, night has fallen over the city, making it that much more overwhelming to step into suddenly. Claude has never seen this much glass in his life, much less buildings this tall or lights so bright, and he gawks up at the glittering windows against the black sky while trying to make sense of it all. Thankfully the street he's on is a fairly quiet one, because in the process of trying to estimate how tall some of these buildings are he wanders off the sidewalk and into the street.
"What is this place?" he asks himself, squinting up at a distant point of light like a very slow, blinking shooting star as it crosses the sky. He's just craning his neck to watch it as it disappears behind a building when something very fast, very shiny, and very large zips past him, swerving to avoid hitting him and making a loud, terrible noise as it does so. A man leans out the window on the left side and shouts at him.
"Watch where you're going!"
"It's everybody's road!" Claude shouts back, though by then the thing's already disappeared around the corner. He sighs, shaking his head, and wanders over to a nearby stoop, sitting down on the steps and pulling the little glass rectangle and accompanying booklet that he found out of his pocket, propping Failnaught up on the wall next to him. Might as well try to figure this thing out while he's got nothing else to do. The booklet says that to activate the thing - a "phone," apparently, you just have to press your thumb to the surface. Which he does, to... absolutely no effect.
"Huh," he says, brows furrowing slightly.
(It doesn't occur to him yet that his thick leather gloves might be getting in the way.)
no subject
Between the soccer match that he heard of and the various other dangerous events here, he knew that Claude would have no problem trying to help people. Although, he did wonder just how much he already knew about this world. With that, he kept silent. If he wanted to ask, he would say.
Right now, it was probably more important to help Claude get use to this strange new world.
"But here in this world, superheroes fight off evil villains with superpowers! You know how some have the power to lift really heavy things or shot laser beams? They need to fight them off with their own powers!"
no subject
Antonio doesn't seem to worried about it, but Claude can't help but be just a little concerned. He manages to mask over it, though, looking more thoughtful than anything else as he doesn't want to kill the boy's enthusiasm, but it is something he'll have to look into.
"Well, I can't do anything quite so remarkable as lifting really heavy things, and I'm afraid my skill with beams of any kind is a little limited, but I'll just have to do my best with what I've got. Can't let anyone go unsaved on my watch, after all."
It feels maybe a little bit weird to make a sort-of promise like that, but Claude does have to admit he's not nearly so good at keeping himself from intervening whenever he notices someone in trouble as he'd like - whether that person wants help or not. It can be something of a bad habit, but if people are really in peril as often as this boy seems to be saying, he guesses it'll help more than it hurts.
no subject
That and he really didn't want to think about what would happen should things go wrong. For a moment or two, he glanced downward as his imagination was getting the better of him. If a soccer match to the death was possible, what else could go wrong. Still, he raised an eyebrow at him.
"Then what can you do? If you don't mind asking?"
Even if he doesn't have the superpowers Antonio thought he had, he surely must have some. Right?
no subject
It's generally considered pretty rude to do that, especially in a crowded city, and he doesn't want to set a bad example. So what is there that Antonio might get a kick out of?
Ah. He's got it. This one is a hit with basically everybody.
"But I can do this," he says, rising to his feet and taking a few steps backwards so as to give himself enough room, before executing a flawless hands-free backflip, corkscrewing in midair and landing back on his feet. Given the fact that he's currently wearing what amounts to basically two capes and holding a longbow, it's probably an especially impressive spectacle.
no subject
However, before he could even say anything, that's when his eyes widen before letting out a loud gasp. Magic or not, it was still pretty awesome to see him do that backflip. Giving a huge grin, he couldn't help but let out a chuckle.
"That was amazing! How did you do that?" Especially when he had a cape on him too! How didn't he manage to trip up or fall over? He wasn't sure but in Antonio's mind? That was already magical enough!
no subject
"A lot of practice, mostly," he says. "The hardest part is honestly less the flip itself and more building up the confidence that you won't fall and hurt yourself if you try. I can try to teach you some time, if you like - though not right now. I don't want to take you too far away from your mom, and it's probably not a good idea to try to learn on stone like this."
He taps his foot on the sidewalk for emphasis. Finding a park or some open grassy spot would probably carry less risk of scrapes and sprains.
no subject
With that, he gave a pause before leaning a little closer. He wasn't sure if he should be so open to someone, he just met but he seemed friendly enough. If he was willing to talk about his world and showed him a cool trick, it should be okay, right?
That and he got a feeling his mom would be worried if he didn't go back to the store soon.
no subject
"First grade?" he echoes, unfamiliar with the term. "Well, whatever it is you're up to, I'm sure it's important. I wouldn't want to keep you from your business. Speaking of which, do you think your mom's finished in the store yet? We've been talking out here for a while now, and it's getting kind of late. I don't know about you, but I'm starting to get pretty tired."
Not that he's trying to get rid of Antonio by any means, but it's probably best for him to be getting home sooner rather than later. Plus, Claude is telling the truth. It's been a very long day for him.