All Epilogue 21 - Director of External Relations

The Director blinked slowly as he stared into space, absently running his tongue back and forth along the top of his mouth. He whispered almost inaudibly, “You can…”
“Huh?” Banish asked, looking at him with a tinge of worry. “Is it working? Are you…”
Pierce cut him off sharply, almost shouting, “You can taste?!” 
The eidolon flinched back slightly, “I...I guess? Taste is the tongue-sense, right?”
“Why didn’t you tell me you could do that?!” Pierce demanded. The Few poured over the strange sensations they had gotten from Banish for a brief second, before the Director had severed his tie with him almost as quickly as he had made it. Summoners could feel through their eidolons, that was well-known, but the Director had never bothered to open that link between himself and his extraplanar half. Recent events had provoked him to try though, and what he had felt in that second was somehow worse than what he had expected from bonding with an All. 
Banish was confused, and fear and apology rolled from him in waves. He flustered, “I-I-I don’t know! You didn’t ask, and I didn’t know it was anything worth mentioning! You-you didn’t want me to talk much when we met, so, so, so I just read a lot about Materia, and, and I just thought, that the things I read must normal so I didn’t, didn’t bring it up.”
“Shut up…” Pierce said bluntly, turning his attention and gaze away as he re-established the link, the bond that gave him access to Banish’s senses. The Few turned all their attention to the Director’s senses, catching and holding every nuance of the experience in their collective minds, trying to understand the things that they had never felt before: foreign sensations to everyone but their Director, who parsed their meanings. Taste, though of nothing but the eidolon’s own tongue. Smell, proper smell, that needed to be inhaled through his nose. Around the edges of the ruby-red glasses he wore, grainy colour painted his somewhat-poor vision. Human senses. But there was more than that: there was movement. The eidolon probably couldn’t feel it himself, such a small, inconsequential thing, but the Few could notice all the sensations that they lacked now that they were looking with all their attention. Things moved and twitched inside the eidolon; a heart, lungs. Organs that demonstrably did nothing, probably lacking any relation to their mortal counterparts beyond the most superficial details, but still gave the appearance of life inside his body. Banish floated, trepidatious and silent with his knees drawn up just slightly, wringing his hands. “You…” Pierce started to say something, but it was swallowed with a growl as he clenched his hand and turned away, shutting his eyes tightly. He moved towards the door, making to leave.
“W-wait!” Banish said, trying to stop him. “Did-did I do something? What should I do? I-I-I can change! Please, tell me so I can…!”
“Shut UP!” Pierce shouted, and Banish flinched. “Shut up or I will send you back to Allspace where you belong!” The eidolon recoiled, backing himself away into a corner noiselessly and curling up on himself, hugging his knees tightly and staring with a muted fear at the ground. Pierce floated into the doorway, pausing as he reached the threshold of the room. He froze for a long second before slamming his fist into the wood, “Rrrrgh why?!” He turned and shouted at Banish, “Why?!” The eidolon didn’t answer, too great was his fear. “Why do you get to be...!?” he trailed off, leaving his question unfinished as he punched the door frame again. He tilted forwards, resting his forehead on the frame; exhaling bitterly, he hissed a question more to himself than to anyone else, “Why are you the human one?”
“I’m not!” Banish retorted loudly, whipping his head around to look at his summoner, his fear suddenly overcome. “I’m not human, I’m All! Don’t call me that because I’m not!” The comment had driven deep, and Banish railed against it, “I’m not a human, I don’t want to be a human, and I don’t...I don’t want any of this!” He clenched his eyes and hands, fighting back inky tears as he explained, “I don’t want all of these pointless senses, I don’t want to be made of hundreds of useless parts! Humans are confusing and inefficient and flimsy and strange and I don’t want to be that! All doesn’t want to be that! I’m wrong and strange and have to be alone, but I’m All!” He trembled and ground his teeth, “This place is terrifying and the things here are terrifying and All had to take all of its awful memories of everything here and put them into me so All wouldn’t be reminded continuously of what humans are! I have to keep everything for All, away from All, and it’s what I’m alone for!! I’m...I!” he practically shouted, nearly frantic. “No other All is an I! No other All is made of such repulsive parts and thoughts and pieces that they’re made to be I!” He shoved his face into his knees, sobbing, “I’m...I’m alone...but...I’m still...still...” His voice petered out, and he added quietly, vehemently, almost sullenly, “I’m not human.” 
Pierce watched Banish as he finished speaking and devolved to a series of choked noises and swallowed ichorous tears. He sighed and moved towards his eidolon, the missing half of his soul that the plane of All had crafted so literally as his mirror image, and sunk down to sit beside him, both men hovering gently off of the ground. They sat in silence for a while, as Banish composed himself. 
Staring into the middle distance flatly, Pierce spoke evenly, “We don’t know what to do. You’re right: you’re not human. We aren’t human. We aren’t All. We were, even though Percival doesn’t choose to remember. His human memories hate All for what they did here, but he hates them because, for a minute, he was All too. When he was All, he was complete. He’d never been complete. And when the All refused him, he was broken again. Percival isn’t human, no matter how badly he wants to be, and we aren’t All, even if we wish we were.” 
Banish sniffed, mumbling, “I’m...I’m All…I’m just...I’m...” He sniffed some more, stuttering.
The Director considered this for a moment before speaking, his tone still flat and even, his more human affect lost in the joint mind of the Few, “We aren’t what Percival would like. He...I...I’m, jealous. We thought you were more like me, physically.” He paused, looking almost thoughtful before continuing, drifting back to third person, “Percival’s emotions aside, we are glad that you are what you are, and that you are different than the rest of us. It means we have abilities that we would otherwise lack, and we’re excited that one of us can taste and smell and feel like Percival’s faint memories do. It means we all can.” Looking at Banish almost passively, he said, “We’re sorry, that we can’t share with you the way you can with us. We would. Maybe there’s magic that we could use.” Pierce sat blankly for a long minute as Banish wiped away the last of his tears; eventually, Percival blinked slowly, and a measure of emotion returned to his voice as he continued, “Can you...will you share with us? We...I, miss tasting things. It’s...a large part of being human, and I...forget it.”
Banish nodded, “...Yeah. Yeah.” He managed a small, sad, self-deprecating grin, “I’m sorry, about all that.” Pierce shook his head, dismissing the outburst. Composed again, Banish straightened, “What do you want me to taste for you?”
Narrowing his eyes, Pierce thought very hard for a moment before replying, “...Coffee. I really liked coffee, I remember, but we can’t imagine what taste is, so I don’t remember anything about it, really.”
Banish nodded, “Ok. I might have tasted that before…” A note of worry crept into his voice, “but it might not be like how other Materians taste it, because I find that a lot of things that they say are terrible aren’t really offensive at all. Like lamp oil,” he said as an Arm holding a cup teleported nearby, bidden by Pierce. “I think it’s because to me, nothing is ‘food’ or ‘poison’, so everything just sort of...tastes?” 
“Probably for the best,” Pierce smirked. “It’s not like I remember anything, so it just means it won’t taste bad and ruin my rose-tinted memory.” Banish tentatively returned the smile and took the cup as Pierce settled and opened the link. “Ok, go ahead.” Holding it up to his mouth, Banish took a drink, but rather than the sensation of flavour they were expecting, the Few were suddenly met with a shocking jolt to their collective being. Pierce’s hand flew to his mouth as Banish jerked, trying to not spill the contents of the mug everywhere. As soon as he placed the cup down, he began to babble apologies, the frantic terror of earlier back to possibly an even greater degree. Percival ignored him, his hand still on his mouth, as he whispered, “...That's burning. You...feel pain…”
“I’m so sorry!! Please! I didn’t think, and, and, and I’m so sorry!! I won’t ever do that again, please!!” Banish begged and pleaded forgiveness in a terror-stricken panic, and Pierce slowly turned towards him to regard him in confusion, as though he was having a difficult time processing the eidolon’s reaction. Banish folded up on himself and whispered hoarsely, “Please...please don’t send me away…”
“...Why...would I...?” Pierce asked slowly, lacking any understanding.
Banish was shaking, clutching himself tightly. “...Because...because that! Because pain!” Fear and emotion gripped his voice as he said, “Because of pain. All won’t let me connect to anything...because...of pain.” His eyes darted about, looking at nothing as he remembered the past, “I got hurt, once...and All removed me, completely. Everything else was bad enough, but that…! Never again, never ever again. They never, ever want to feel that again.” Remorse was deep in his voice, “I made All feel that…I was just supposed to keep the awful memories. But I brought that with me.” Shutting his eyes tightly, he finished, “...Now, I made the Few feel...I’m sorry...I’m sorry. I...ruin...everything…” Trembling, he curled in a ball, waiting to be reprimanded.
Pierce looked at him with a curious expression before making a few subtle gestures, summoning two more Arms to the room. They floated quickly to Banish's side and picked him up, wrapping him in a multi-armed embrace and dragging their fingers over his face and lips, concern evident on their alien faces. Pierce continued to watch passively, while Banish kept himself drawn inward. "We’re sorry..." Percival said quietly. "I'm so sorry. I won't send you away. I'm terrible, for threatening you like that. Especially for something like that. I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry..." Banish muttered to the Arm nearest him, unable to lift his gaze. "I'm alone for a reason. I hold the awful memories, and the awful parts, and pain. I’m supposed to keep that away." He crumpled further, "And I can't even do that right."
The Arms shook their heads, and Pierce explained with his vague, distant affect, "Pain is bad. It's terrible, and we forgot how it felt. We can't feel it now, and the Arms never knew it. But we know about pain. We understand. The All wouldn't, and I can see why they reacted that way. But, we don't mind. If one of us hurts, we’d rather know and share it than to shut one of us away."
The eidolon’s voice was very quiet, “I’m...not a Few, and, you...don’t want...the awful input...of a broken, useless All…”
One of the Arms spoke instead of Pierce, though their cadence of speech was markedly similar, “You are not broken.” It wiped Banish’s face again, “You hurt, but are not broken. You are not useless. You think that way because you are only concerned with All. We are sorry that they shun you, and make it hard. Percival is the same; he is unacceptable to humans. But we have helped, and would like to help you. Because you are him, and are Few, and we do not want any of us to hurt, whether we feel it in ourselves or not."
Banish stuttered, "I...I already said I'm not..."
The Arm interrupted him, "You are the eidolon of Percival. This means that you are part of the Director, and the Director is certainly Few.” The Arm paused, considering something before continuing, “Few are neither human nor All, but something of both. Percival is not All, and wishes he were more human; Banish is not human but, perhaps, is not as All as he would like. Both people, by all logic, are Few.” It looked considering, and added, “Further, since only together do Percival and Banish make a whole, they therefore must both equally be the Director."
Banish's eyes widened, looking up finally, "That's...no, that's wrong.” He shook his head defiantly, “That’s, completely wrong. I’m not even a real partner. I can't feel any of you; I couldn't possibly direct you." 
Pierce had also drifted into a thoughtful gaze, and suddenly made a drawn-out noise of exclamation. “Ohh. That’s...actually very obvious, now that we’re thinking about it,” he commented off-handedly. 
“What…?” he asked, glancing from one Arm to the other, this new line of conversation unsettling him.
Pierce stared into space, “You’re an eidolon made in Allspace, made to be as close to a human as the All could manage. I’m a summoner made on Materia, made to be as close to an All as the mortal gods could manage.”
Banish turned towards the summoner, “I...guess.”
“We’re both upset because we want to be like the other beings from our planes. I’m not human, and you aren’t...entirely like the other All. I’m jealous and angry, and you’re despondent; you have what I want, and I have what you want, and Percival is...I, am,” his voice gained back a touch of personality, and his gaze became somewhat less distant, “I am am a fucking awful person.” He looked at Banish, “I am sorry, for threatening to send you away. I’m sorry for ignoring you, and being jealous, and everything else. We are both Few, so what we have is supposed to be for both of us, not one or the other.”
The eidolon blinked at this before leaning forwards again, leaning his elbows on his knees as he stared forwards, “...It’s fine. I’m not really a Few either. I’m supposed to be alone. It’s what I’m for.”
Pierce frowned sadly. He was quiet for a moment before he began speaking again, “We still argue that you are. We’re the same person made two different ways, so we’re both technically the Director. That sounds right to us, at any rate.” Percival’s tone drifted away again as he spoke, becoming flat, “You said that you weren’t a director, because you can’t hear every Few’s thoughts and consider their senses and micromanage their motions. You can’t direct like an All.” Banish sighed slightly, burying his chin deeper in his arms. “At the same time though, I can’t act the way I think I should direct, as a human. I…” he paused, shaking his head and snapping back to his human cadence, “ugh, I can’t focus the way a human can. I can’t just pay attention to a single room, or a single person. I can’t hold a conversation the right way, as far as anyone is concerned. I drift in and out, and I’m not really all there to any one person. I can’t move right, look right, be right, by any mortal standard. I’m…” he sighed, “I’m just not physically human enough.” He looked at Banish, his expression becoming strangely flat again, “I’m All enough to direct the Few like one. But the Few aren’t All. We aren’t in Allspace. We live on Materia, with mortal races, and we need more than an All in charge. We don’t live in a world that is only us; it’s not enough to learn and build within ourselves. We need to be represented to the other races, the humans and hobgoblins, elves, orcs, everyone; we need to be integrated and accepted and be guided politically and socially with the others. And we are having problems with that, because," he smirked, "one half of the Director isn’t quite human enough to do his job well. But you don’t have that problem." Banish looked back up at him, not quite following this line of conversation. "As much as it’s...utterly frustrating to admit, you're more relatable to other Materians. You have a physical composition others are more receptive to. You don’t stare into space, talk in plural, and just...make it obvious that you’re not like everyone else, talking to people in your head, spying and learning too much. You do have that focus, the right sorts of physical ticks, the ability to blend and disguise better and more easily. So...we think maybe you need to be that director. You can go to summits and meetings and make visits and statements and agreements. You can make people realise that we aren’t monsters, direct us through world politics, and help the Few improve their position in the world.” 
"That's..." Banish had shifted from despondent sorrow to shell-shock. "That's...I couldn't...I can't do that..."
His expression was inscrutable, "Do you want to try?" 
Banish sat still, looking down uncertainly. He sat quietly for a very long time, but the other Few in the room just floated patiently until he was ready. “I...don’t know how good of a job I could do…And people...those people expect you, the real Director, not me.”
“Hmm,” they all thought. One of the Arms mentioned, “Not very many people know about you.”
Pierce continued fluidly, “If we’re side-by-side, we obviously don’t look the same, but apart? No one will be able to tell that you aren’t me, if they don’t know that there are two of us. They expect a more All-ish looking being to begin with, and any description of the Director that exists could describe you just as well as me.”
“So we will not tell the world that our Director is two people,” the other Arm finished. “You will go to people as the Director, which is true. Not an eidolon, not a substitute. You are him, the one with final say.”
“I...I am…” Banish stuttered. His voice dropped off, “I’m not...I can’t be…”
Pierce smiled slightly, “You aren’t Percival. You’re still Banish. But, by all the logic we’ve got, you are the Director.” He leaned back, looking away, “Let the world think there’s one of us. You can use what reputation we’ve already built, and take it farther. I’ll give you a communication ring, and with an Ear, we can listen and tell you anything you need to know, and help you with what to say until you’re comfortable. You’ll have all of our knowledge with you.” He quirked his head slightly, realizing something, before making a quick gesture and reaching over to tap Banish’s jaw; a spell quickly healed the lingering burn stinging his mouth and tongue. “We won’t shut you out, and we’ll be with you where you go. We can’t give you all of our feelings as we are now, but you’re still part of us, if you want. You really aren’t alone.” 
Banish rubbed his mouth idly, his mind elsewhere. He thought about that statement, and a small, tentative smile twitched about his lips. “I...I don’t know, that I can do it…” he said slowly. “But...but I can try. I’d...I’d like to try.”
Pierce smiled slightly, and the two Arms that had been wrapped around Banish hugged him tighter, somehow managing to look happy despite their lack of facial features. As they pulled away from him after a moment, Pierce looked at him, his gaze level for the moment. "Really? Are you really terrified of everything here?"
Banish sighed and shook his head, "...No. All hates it all, because it's so foreign." He flicked the tip of his finger, "...But I don't mind it. Some of it is nice."
Pierce smiled slightly, "That's good. I like it here." He paused for a moment before smirking, “So, I guess you’re the Director of External Relations or something, and I’m, what, Director of Internal Affairs?”
“Heh, I guess,” Banish replied. His gaze fell on the forgotten cup nearby, and he picked it up. Testing it cautiously, he said, “It’s fine now. If you want to try again, that is.”
“We would,” Pierce said, drifting back to stare into the middle distance. Banish pulled his legs under him, floating cross-legged above the ground, drinking coffee and looking thoughtful as his summoner hovered beside him, the Few savouring the sensation of taste.
Category:Advent of the All