Happy Birthday, Ryoji

[puppy_lancer]

Characters: You know the drill. Lancer puppy_lancer, Ryoji notsogrimreaper, the people they invited between the two of them, and everybody else who just happens to stumble into the party.
Setting: Floor 25, November 17, morning-evening
Format: Open, anything goes
Summary: It's Ryoji's birthday, so Lancer is throwing him a big party. Anyone is welcome in! (And nobody is gonna kick out those who aren't so welcome)
Warnings: None for now

[It's been a long time since Lancer had thrown any parties. Therefore, he's making this bigger and grander than the last two parties he's thrown. It's a good way for him to distract himself from all the emotional turmoil that had popped up during the battle with Sephiroth, if anything.]

[There's two tables laden with food over at one side of the floor. The centerpiece for that is a big double-tier cake with "HAPPY BIRTHDAY RYOJI" written over the side of the bottom layer. The top layer is little more than a glorified candle holder, as several handfuls of candles have been jammed all over that second layer.]

[Over on the other side, there was a variety of party games. They're all old favorites like pin the tail on the piggy (pinning spiraling paper tails onto a "pig" with Ganon's face), apple bobbing (various fruits in a water-filled wooden barrel), and everyone's favorite--the pinata (a scarecrow with a berry-filled paper mache head supposed to represent Jason).]

[In the center of the floor, there is a stage nailed together from wooden boards. A ways behind that, a pile of wood stacks into a bonfire pyre. A turnip lantern leers at the party goers from one corner of the stage.]

[For decorations, there are black feathers and crude little paper doll cutouts resembling angels scattered around on the ground or in the corners of the dining tables. There are also a few more turnip lanterns.]

[And of course, Lancer, like a good host, stands on the stage, dressed like a hobby horse, waiting for people to show up. He's feeling pretty relaxed, if only because the major unwanted guest, Sephiroth, was locked up and in no danger of crashing this party.]

Comments

[monstrueux]

[Gilles is used to people jumping when they see him, but he doesn't recognize this man. Not that that means a great deal. Nonetheless, he bows politely. Well, he likes dramatic gestures, which is the only reason he's bowing, but it's sort of polite.]

Good afternoon! I trust I did not startle you!

[silencetoreason]

[Oh, well this guy is... different. France gives a tense little smile (there are no shadow children, he reminds himself, it's a trick of the light) and, after a moment, bows back. Nothing like a little dramatic flair to try and get him back in a proper mindset.]

Not at all, monsieur! I am just a small bit jumpy today. [He straightens up.] We have not met, have we?

[monstrueux]

[Gilles is always speaking French, and the Tower translates, but somehow, when he encounters someone else who is actually speaking French, it is somehow evident to him, a certain resonance when France says monsieur perhaps.]

No, I do not believe so, monsieur, but it is a pleasure. You are French as well?

[This pleases him. Jeanne is the only other person from France he's met here, as far as he knows. As France was courtly enough to bow back, Gilles continues the courtliness by providing his full name and titles.]

Je suis Gilles de Laval, sire de Rais, compagnon de Jeanne d'Arc, Maréchal de France!

[silencetoreason]

[France would have responded normally. He was about to, in fact. He'd stopped using his human name quite a while ago, choosing to refer to himself entirely as "France." After spending more than a week on his dead world, wandering the ruins of his cities, surrounded by the bodies of his people, he saw no better way to make himself feel better than to use his true name exclusively. He is France. He is. And as long as he's alive, his nation must be, too.

But before he can introduce himself, the man before him does.

And France freezes in place.

Gilles de Rais. This is Gilles de Rais. He bares little resemblance to the one France knew. This one is unfamiliar in the same way Jeanne herself is, a way that leaves a feeling of kinship fluttering in his chest, but in a distant way, one that he'd never experienced before coming to the Tower. It's a feeling he'd gotten used to, one that he's realized has come to mean, "from France, but not from him."

But even so.

Even so.]

Ah...

[France tries to speak, but his throat feels dry. The smile has faded from his face. Even if this Gilles is not the exact same one he fought beside, spoke with, enjoyed the company of until he got the news that he'd been caught murdering his other citizens, he must still be dangerous. Jeanne said it herself.

"Do not reveal who you truly are to him," she'd written. And France wasn't eager to defy her.]

I'm Fran... cis. Francis Bonnefoy.

[His heart feels like it's dropped straight into his gut.]

[monstrueux]

[Since being blessed by the "light of revelation" as he calls it--really, being killed by the power of Excalibur, which had reminded him of his past as a knight and had shown him how far he had fallen, Gilles is much more observant than he was at the height of his madness. He notes France's difficulty speaking, his hesitation. It's not too difficult for even Gilles to guess at the reason for it, coming as it did so shortly after his introduction. Well, it's more likely that a countryman would know it, is it not? He should have thought of that. He is sure that many of his countrymen--even faithful comrades, like La Hire--would scorn him now, if they did not go so far as to run him through on sight.]

I see. So you know my name.

[He pauses dramatically.]

The stories are correct! I am the worst of men, the most vile murderer! The worthless slaughterer, Gilles de Rais! You are right to despise me. I should be reviled by all good men everywhere and offered no pity, no, nor mercy.

[silencetoreason]

[That's certainly not the type of reaction he was expecting. He's not sure if Gilles is being genuine or if he's just trying to evoke pity, but either way, France doesn't like it. How is he supposed to just... just stand here and listen to this? Face this man from his past who he thought he would never have to deal with again, someone safely shut away in history books and out of his sight?

And yet... The plea almost sounds heartfelt. He doesn't want to hate any of his citizens, especially in a place where so few of them are left. But France has always been the type of person to feel his emotions as strong as can be, and right now, things like disgust, anger, and grief are on the forefront of his mind.]

You-- I-I do not understand. You are dead. [He swallows a lump in his throat.] You were... supposed to be dead.

[It's funny. He said almost the exact same thing to Jeanne when he first saw her in here.]

[monstrueux]

Yes, I am dead! But do not the dead often walk again here? [Although he supposes it's a little different for him.] In truth, I died centuries ago. I confessed to my crimes and was justly executed, hung until I died. But in the twentieth century, the heart of a young man brought me back to life.

[Gilles is explaining it in the most inaccurate way possible, but it is true, in a sense. He had been summoned not by any relic, but by an affinity for Ryuunosuke.]

Like called to like, and he raised me from the dead! Then I was killed again, as justly as the first time, only this time, the light of Heaven itself slew me! It was a revelation. It washed over me, and once again, I saw the beautiful scene of Charles' coronation. The bright window and the golden sunlight, and the music playing. I saw Jeanne, more radiant than the sun, and when I took her hand once again, I realized that I had become a monster. This murderous, inhuman thing that you see before you. So, your scorn is justified.

[Not that France was actually scorning him, Gilles is just overstating things, as usual.]

All I wanted... was to bring Jeanne back to life.

[silencetoreason]

[Oh, no. No no no. This is too much. France's mind is reeling, his thoughts tumbling all over each other in a frenzy. This Gilles is clearly a much different one than the man he knew, but whether or not he's telling the truth about his repentance is unclear. Who is he to trust a child murderer?

But there are matters more immediately pressing about that speech of his. France gulps.]

Jeanne...? I'm... What do you mean? You wanted to... t-to bring her back?

[monstrueux]

Her death was the greatest misery of my life! Ma chère Jeanne!

When she died, no one saved her. The Church did not. Her countrymen did not, not even the king she had done so much to aid. Even God did not! Any of them might have helped her, but they refused!

[He's still mad about that.]

So there was only I, Gilles de Rais. Only I cared enough to help Jeanne, though I was not able to save her from the English.

I found a sorcerer, the fair Prelati, who told me he knew of ways to bring back the dead.

[silencetoreason]

[That strikes a nerve. One of France's biggest regrets is Jeanne's untimely death. Had I tried harder, he always tells himself, had I done more, perhaps I'd have been able to save her. It haunted his memories and plagued his thoughts for years.

And to hear this- this murderer claim that he was the only one to care that much about her? He's so stunned by this, so deeply angry, that he can hardly speak.]

What are you talking about?!

[There's an edge to his voice now, a look in his eyes that is more venomous than frightened. He doesn't elaborate, though. Any other words he might have said get caught in his throat.]

[monstrueux]

Jeanne!

[It's not clear whether Gilles is answering France's question or calling out for his beloved saint. He doesn't actually understand France's reaction, because he has a great deal of trouble reading others' emotions. Gilles doesn't take much prompting to break into a full-on Jeanne speech. It's actually his favorite thing to do.]

I loved her, with all my heart. She was as radiant as an angel! I worshiped her. It was only Jeanne who saw the darkness in me and understood. She knew that I was a weak, terrible man, but she forgave me. She could have saved me. Look at me... I was not always thus. When she died, I-- When she died-- [He can't finish this sentence, and tears start to stream down his face as he recoils, in visible pain at the memory.] I can never forgive them for killing Jeanne!

Prelati said, if we made sacrifices, we could summon a demon. He might be able to bring her back.

[In France's world, this would be so much nonsense, but in Gilles' world, Prelati had actually been a sorcerer of great power, possessing an incredible relic of pure evil.]

So I said that I would! And I became this monster, this thing that all men despise. I was angry. I wanted them all to suffer. I thought... I did not care what I became, so long as it meant Jeanne could live again! I cheated death and Hell! I waited for her for centuries! Through the long years, in the dark, and then--!

[His voice rises to its peak, but suddenly, all the vigor and agitation seem to leave him at once, and he sags.]

I made a terrible mistake... When the light swept over me, I realized. It was not for Jeanne at all. I was only a wretched beast. I would give anything to go back. To the war. To be her knight again. But Jeanne... When I saw her here, she took my hand again and called me by my name. There is no one more beautiful, more honorable, in this world or any other.