Scenario:Lobelia - Glorious Calamity
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Glorious Calamity
The victorious crew find themselves back in the restaurant. Lobelia whips out two conches he introduces as his parents. The crew is taken aback by the terrifying screams the conches give off, but Lobelia orders them to sit down and he begins to recount his past.
After a lengthy engagement, (Captain) and company return from the memory of the War to the private booth in the restaurant.
Lobelia greets them with a genial grin and a luxurious feast.
Lyria: Wow! That's so much food!
Lobelia: Merci, merci! Thank you, (Captain)! You've been of enormous assistance.
Lobelia: All that needs handling has been handled! The primal beast is sure to surrender now.
Vyrn: So you're sayin' the world's saved!
Lobelia: Oui!And it's all thanks to your labors! I'm sincerely grateful!
Lobelia: Allow me to treat you all today! It may not be much in light of your accomplishments, but please feast and imbibe to your heart's content!
Lyria: We really appreciate it, Lobelia!
Lobelia: Come, let us raise a toast! To the heroes who saved the world! Again, you have my appreciation!
Lyria: Ehehe, cheee—
Lobelia: Santé!
Vyrn: Sant... Eh?
Lobelia: It's the way we say cheers in my homeland.
Lyria: Oh, neat... Are très-bien and conque other things you say there?
Lobelia: Oui! All were taught to me by Papa and Maman.
Vyrn: Huh, so you got that weird way of talking from your folks then.
Lobelia: Heh! They gave me many treasures above and beyond words.
Lobelia: For example, "Everyone has the right to be happy."
Lobelia: It's a notion taught to me by Papa and Maman, and it's become my credo.
Lyria: Hehehe, you really have a wonderful mother and father. I'd love to meet them.
Lobelia: They can't, unfortunately, be met. But you could listen to them instead.
Vyrn: Oh! Y'mean with that spell of yours? The one that lets ya talk with people far away... Message, was it?
Lobelia: Non, non! This is registre... Message would be meaningless here.
Lobelia: There's no way to connect with my parents.
Lyria: Huh?
Lobelia: Come, listen. These are Papa and Maman!
Mirthfully, Lobelia snaps his fingers, and two small conches appear before the party in an instant.
Lobelia: Registre!
Conch: !
Lyria: W-what are those noises?
Vyrn: They sure sound gross... Those shells, er... conques didn't mess up, did they?
Lobelia: How could they! Those are Papa!
Lyria: Huh? You mean those sounds just now?
Lobelia: Yes! They're music to my ears! Flesh and bone bursting out and being blown away—I consider them lifelights of sorts.
Lobelia: Papa sang out an ephemeral tune of life with his very body... Hrnnng! Très-bien!
Lobelia: It satisfies me no matter how many times I listen. This, yes, this... is happiness!
Lobelia: Heh-ahaha! Ahahaha!
Lyria: Lobelia...
Lobelia: Oh, apologies. I should comport myself with élégance.
Lobelia: And we're going to eat soon, aren't we? I should allow you to listen to Maman first then.
Lobelia: Registre!
Conch: No, noo... ogh... Ghaaaaah!
Lyria: Eeek! Noooo!
Lyria's face turns pale in reaction to the detestable noise. She covers her ears with her hands and slumps over.
(Captain) gently places a second pair of hands over Lyria's ears and looks daggers at Lobelia.
Lobelia, in contrast, wears an ecstatic grin on his flushed face.
Lobelia: The sound of flesh and bone turning to mincemeat blends with Maman's voice in an exquisite harmonie!
Lobelia: Très-bien!
Lobelia is no longer paying attention to (Captain) and the others but rather stuffing his smile with pasta from the table.
Lobelia: Gulp... Nomnom... Mmm! Bouillabaisse pasta and the sounds of Maman are a match made in heaven!
Lobelia: Heh-ahaha! It's the taste of home, as they say! Mmm... C'est bon!
Vyrn: Uuurph! He's goin' cuckoo...
Lobelia: Oh dear, is something wrong? Why such dreary faces when a noise this happy is ringing out?
Lobelia: Ah, I see. You don't seem to enjoy it. That's a shame...
Lobelia: Perhaps you'd prefer something more like "Boy Playing on the Beaches of Auguste" or "Girl Living in the Woods."
Lobelia: My archives are vast. Make as many requests as you like, and—
Vyrn: No way! We don't wanna listen to that junk!
Vyrn: How'd you get those sounds anyw—
Vyrn: You didn't kill 'em and... record the sound, did ya?
By way of an answer, Lobelia turns his grinning face and whistles with his fingers.
A sound pierces the booth. In the following moment the food disappears from the table and is replaced with a host of conches.
Vyrn: Wh-what're all these...
Lobelia: My beloved archive of conques, each one of which contains a recording of someone being destroyed.
Vyrn: You gotta be kiddin'! There are hundreds of 'em!
Lobelia: Heh! These are but a handful! I'd love to show you the entire archive at once, but this restaurant is wanting for space.
Lobelia: If I were to take them out all at once, this booth would overflow with memories.
Vyrn: Wh-who are you? And what are ya tryin' to do anyway?
Lobelia: Trying to be happy, nothing more. Anyone and everyone has the right to be happy.
Lobelia: I've simply tried to abide by my credo. You all—you'd do anything to be happy, wouldn't you?
The vast chasm between Lobelia's pure, boyish smile and grisly deeds sends a chill down the spine of (Captain).
The captain half-reflexively removes the hands that were on Lyria's ears and reaches waistward for a weapon.
But Lobelia, perhaps noticing, quickly snaps his fingers...
After which the interior begins to faintly tremble, and the glasses on the table shatter.
Lyria: Eeek!
Lobelia: (Captain)! Comport yourself with élégance. You're acting a bit vulgar.
Lobelia: Surely it wouldn't please you to see mademoiselle become a stain on the floor?
Seeing that (Captain) has let go of the weapon, Lobelia smiles mildly and sits.
Lobelia: Come—don't be shy. You must be seated, everyone.
Lobelia: Don't concern yourself with what's happening outside. I've been controlling all the sound to ensure none leaks out.
Lobelia: Ah, yes! And none will leak out either, I suppose. Heh-ahahaha!
Lyria: Mmph... Sob, sob... What are you planning to do...
Lobelia: Heh! I'd just like you to listen to a bit of an old tale. What's the matter? Come—have a seat!
Believing that any resistance could bring harm on Lyria or Vyrn, (Captain) obeys Lobelia's command.
Once he sees that the party members are again seated, Lobelia begins reminiscing.
Lobelia was born to an utterly unexceptional family of magicians on an island remarkable for its inland sea.
Not long had passed before the boy's abilities began to manifest and astonish his parents.
Consumed by love for their son, his mother and father shared a certain lesson with him at every opportunity.
Lobelia's Mother: Everyone has the right to be happy—everyone and anyone. That means you too, Lobelia...
Lobelia's Father: Use that talent of yours, and you're guaranteed to be happy!
Lobelia's Father: You're a genius, son, and you're certain to succeed! Live a life of bliss, Lobelia!
Never doubting the words of his beloved parents, the boy became positive he was a genius who would be happy.
The youthful Lobelia, however, was unable to understand quite what happiness was.
Reflecting on happiness day after day, he eventually reached a turning point.
Lobelia and his parents are walking along the shore.
The boy loses his footing and plants his heel on a conch, crushing it.
Lobelia's Father: Lobelia! Is everything all right? Are you bleeding?
Lobelia's Mother: You're not hurt, are you? What happened, Lobelia?
Both parents embrace the boy, but their words fail to register with him...
Because the loud crush of the conch is sounding endlessly in his head.
Young Lobelia: (This sensation... This sound! Aaah, this feeling... It fills my heart...)
Young Lobelia: (Ah, yes! It's the noise of something breaking!)
Young Lobelia: (This sound is happiness! If a lifeless scrap on the beach can do all this for me, then how much more—)
Lobelia's Father: Lobelia? Did you hurt yourself?
Young Lobelia: I'm fine. I'm fine, Papa.
Young Lobelia: I'm fine now. I'll be happy.
Lobelia's Father: What!
A friendly smile on his face, Lobelia laughs and snaps his fingers.
It only takes an instant. Lobelia uses audiomancy to make his father's body burst open.
The son magically records the resulting sound.
Young Lobelia: (Ah, Papa, Papa! What a happy sound you make! Très-bien!)
Lobelia's Mother: D-dear? Wha—huh? Lobe... lia?
Lobelia's Mother: Noooooooo!
Unable to comprehend the sight before her eyes, Lobelia's mother screams excruciatingly. Lobelia, meanwhile, flashes a smile.
Young Lobelia: (Maman... What sort of sound would you make?)
Lobelia feels profound gratitude when in the sound of destruction he discovers happiness—an emotion his parents had long taught to value.
After some deliberation, the boy decides that the best way to repay his parents is to embody their lesson.
Lobelia's Mother: No, nooo... Gaaaaah!
Lobelia destroyed his father instantaneously but not his mother.
Starting at the tips and proceeding inward, he crushes the flesh and bones of her four limbs little by little.
Lobelia grins ecstatically and carefully records the sound.
Young Lobelia: Ah, aaaagh!
With the two mutilated corpses before him, the gleeful Lobelia plays the sounds on a loop.
Young Lobelia: Très-bien! I feel alive from the bottom of my heart!
Young Lobelia: Merci! Je t'aime! Papa, Maman! I—heh-ahahaha—I'm happy!
Young Lobelia: Heh! Ahahahaha!
That was the first of many days on which Lobelia would destroy other people...
It made him—he said—happy.