video; un: deathweaver

[respired]

[ Koltira's coming to you live from the latest addition to Oska: a blacksmith's forge, newly constructed on the castle grounds. He's standing over the anvil, hammer in hand, his implacable expression as unreadable as ever. His saronite breastplate is on the anvil, repaired back to its dark and ominously gleaming glory. The hearth behind him blazes with hungry fire, and the stone walls--already black with soot--are hung with various tools for cutting, shaping, and otherwise manipulating metal.

He lifts the hammer--a tremendous, black thing that looks like it could easily smash someone's head in--such that its oak handle rests against his bare shoulder. He's wearing only a pair of rough black trousers, slung loose on his hips; his pale hair is tied back into a ponytail. The glowing blue tattoos across his chest and forearms cast shadows in the dim forge light, evoking the silhouettes of blades over the cream-colored bricks.

Friendly and innocuous, as usual. ]

I asked Lloyd for a forge, and my petition was granted.

[ He taps the breastplate with his free hand. ]

I needed to repair my armor after answering Achilles's challenge.

[ Koltira speaks tonelessly, as though referring to ancient history, though the fight weighs on him still. He pauses for just a second, his long ears twitching, and then he moves on. ]

I have materials enough for other repairs, should you require them. If you'd like a weapon crafted, I can accommodate a few requests on that score as well.

[ He bows his head slightly. ]

You need only ask.

Comments

[fateality]

Maybe a little, sweetheart.

[respired]

Do you worry about me?

[fateality]

Well, yeah.

Don't you worry about me?

[respired]

Of course. But you are breath and blood and beating heart.

I am not.

[ Especially not the last thing. ]

[fateality]

Sure, you're probably the most resilient guy in Audentes. You're strong, powerful, and you have this immense willpower. That doesn't mean I don't worry anyway.

You can take bullets in the back and walk away from it, but I still prefer it doesn't happen, y'know?

[respired]

[ He's discomfited by Fate rattling off that description of him, true as it might be. ]

What I am is unyielding, and not by choice.

[ He shakes his head. ]

You are human -- however quick and clever you are, you will not outrun death forever. But death has already come for me. It will not soon come again.

Do you understand what I mean?

[fateality]

I know it isn't your choice, honey.

...Uh? [For a moment, he has to think about it, then it slowly sinks in. It is uncomfortable.]

How long, exactly?

[respired]

[ He shrugs. ]

I am immortal, more or less.

[fateality]

[Oh.

As always, when he gets carried away, he's lost the foresight into this; if he really thought about it, really put together all that he knew, he should have figured this out. He should have known this.]

You're okay with this?

[Because he isn't. He definitely does not feel all right with this concept, but he didn't think far enough ahead. Damn it.]

[respired]

[ He cants his head to one side. ]

What do you mean? It is what it is.

[ Unlike Fate, Koltira is not a master of foresight--not even on his best days. ]

[fateality]

It doesn't bother you.

[It is what it is. Damn, that's a nice simple way of just accepting it. But then, Koltira's always been one to being forced to accept his lot in life or non-life.

For Twisted Fate, it's hard to settle up with it.

No, he can't outrun death, and Koltira will keep going after his time.

Ah. That's not much of a position to be in.]

[respired]

[ He scowls. Sets the hammer down on the anvil. He leans against the nearest wall, folding his arms over his chest. ]

I wouldn't say that. I simply--I do not think on it.

[ He doesn't like to imagine Fate growing old. Passing away. Leaving him behind.

But what can he do about it, save make Fate like him? An idea he would never, ever sincerely entertain. ]

[fateality]

But you knew.

[Fate finally sighs. Koltira can't see it, but he's rubbing his forehead, trying to sort out his thoughts. Potential outcomes. Because that's what he does, normally; he tries to plan just far enough to get what he wants.

So what does he want from this? He knows that no matter what, they can't have a normal life. That was never in the cards for Twisted Fate anyway. But he expected... what? That they would grow old together, if he managed to outrun everything long enough? That Koltira could protect him long enough?

They can't make Koltira back to what he was before he was forced into this non-life, and becoming like Koltira is not an option either. Not even Fate wants that.]

You ever think about what our future would even look like?

[respired]

[ He's a little bewildered at first. He'd assumed that Fate knew, as well--but then again, sentient and not-always-murderous undead don't seem terrifically common in Runeterra.

As for the future ... well, Koltira has trouble enough managing the immediate present.

But it's true that he's given the notion a little thought. ]

I expect that I will look out for you for as long as I'm able.

[ More quietly. ]

And then I'll be on my own again.

[fateality]

[That idea doesn't appeal. That he'll continue to grow old, that one day Koltira will be alone again.

This isn't what he wants.

So what does he want?]

What're we doing after ALASTAIR is done with us? You an' me.

[respired]

[ To Koltira, it's the inevitable. ]

I have an obligation to return to Azeroth.

[ He sounds uncertain, though. ]

It is besieged by demons -- I was freed so that I could help defeat them.

[fateality]

[Of course he has an obligation. Koltira has this immense feeling of honor and dedication; he's chivalrous, and Fate loves that about him, but his sense of duty doesn't always align with how Twisted Fate usually functions.

And right now, he's feeling a pit in his stomach. Does Fate return to Runeterra?

Bitterly, he asks himself what the point is -- but he knows things aren't settled with Malcolm either. Doesn't his ex-partner at least deserve some kind of closure?

Fate sighs and rubs his palm over his forehead.]

So where's that put us, Tira? You go home, and then what am I supposed to do?

[respired]

[ He leans against the wall, sighing frost. ]

I don't know, Tobias. I had thought --

[ He looks away, frowning, his jaw tight. ]

-- the mages of Azeroth are masters of portal magic. Not unlike what you do, but they are capable of finding pathways to other worlds. A link to your world might be possible, if you did not want to return with me.

[fateality]

I... I don't know.

But you want me to go with you, yeah?

[respired]

[ He mutters. ]

Of course I do.

[fateality]

...I'd rather not think 'bout a future where I don't got you in it.

Still, this is a lot to swallow.

[This, on top of the immortality thing -- it's got him in an uncomfortable space and thought. Just how the hell is he supposed to resolve both of these things in the future?]

[respired]

[ He feels like he should apologize for something. For himself, for what he is, for what he has to do. But what would that accomplish? What would it solve? ]

I can leave you be, if you prefer.

[fateality]

I dunno if that'd really help either of us.

If I didn't wanna talk, I wouldn't be keepin' this open. I'm just not sure what to do next, I guess.

[Which is a strange feeling. Not the first time, but he feels at a loss right now.]

[respired]

I cannot tell you what to do.

[ He shakes his head. ]

But I told you that I wouldn't leave you, and I don't plan to.

[fateality]

Well, same here, so I guess I'd better figure out what we're doin', if ALASTAIR's done with us one day.

[And that immortality thing. He has to stew over it, but he has to figure out something.]