[63] there will always be some kind of crisis for me
(50%!)
[This is wrong.
Saphir can't pin down what's wrong, exactly, but something is creeping up on him. For one, he isn't mentally referring to himself with his alias any more. For another, he's... comfortable, almost. He eats the food provided by his droned wife happily, leans in for a kiss just before he leaves for work, punctual as always... but halfway through the motion, he stops himself. This isn't who he is. He's not happily married, especially not to a woman, which the Mayfield-compliant half him finds rather reprehensible. Saphir... Dist as never been confused or ashamed of who he is, but that unfamiliar guilt is starting to creep up on him.
It's an illusion, he tells himself, hurriedly rushing out the door. The door to his home, in fact, the home he's had forever, all those memories... no. His prison. His prison filled with unthinking drones. The prison that tortures them all without a thought. Though, it's been quiet, so perhaps that's over... maybe he can settle down, make a life here...]
Action A:
[Saphir can be seen doing his work in the library, vacillating between cheerfully doing what's expected of him and stopping, pensive, fighting with himself. Unsure.]
Action B:
[Dist is wandering town, clearly pensive and confused. He doesn't even know which memories are real any more. He doesn't know who he is and who he's becoming, even which reality he'd prefer. On the one hand, his Professor was alive, he and Jade are still friends and colleagues, he has a happy, normal life... on the other, what if all of that is a sham? He can't decide. He's walking robotically, occasionally simply stopping in the middle of the sidewalk/park, thinking. Searching for truth. Trying to cease the crossfire in his mind. Clearly, he's not watching where he's going.]
Action C:
[Olney's Tavern. One half of him wants a simple beer, the other wants a fancy cocktail. He takes both. Alcohol makes everything better, doesn't it?]
Phone:
...Which reality is right? I can't decide.
[Elaboration? That's for the sober.]
[This is wrong.
Saphir can't pin down what's wrong, exactly, but something is creeping up on him. For one, he isn't mentally referring to himself with his alias any more. For another, he's... comfortable, almost. He eats the food provided by his droned wife happily, leans in for a kiss just before he leaves for work, punctual as always... but halfway through the motion, he stops himself. This isn't who he is. He's not happily married, especially not to a woman, which the Mayfield-compliant half him finds rather reprehensible. Saphir... Dist as never been confused or ashamed of who he is, but that unfamiliar guilt is starting to creep up on him.
It's an illusion, he tells himself, hurriedly rushing out the door. The door to his home, in fact, the home he's had forever, all those memories... no. His prison. His prison filled with unthinking drones. The prison that tortures them all without a thought. Though, it's been quiet, so perhaps that's over... maybe he can settle down, make a life here...]
Action A:
[Saphir can be seen doing his work in the library, vacillating between cheerfully doing what's expected of him and stopping, pensive, fighting with himself. Unsure.]
Action B:
[Dist is wandering town, clearly pensive and confused. He doesn't even know which memories are real any more. He doesn't know who he is and who he's becoming, even which reality he'd prefer. On the one hand, his Professor was alive, he and Jade are still friends and colleagues, he has a happy, normal life... on the other, what if all of that is a sham? He can't decide. He's walking robotically, occasionally simply stopping in the middle of the sidewalk/park, thinking. Searching for truth. Trying to cease the crossfire in his mind. Clearly, he's not watching where he's going.]
Action C:
[Olney's Tavern. One half of him wants a simple beer, the other wants a fancy cocktail. He takes both. Alcohol makes everything better, doesn't it?]
Phone:
...Which reality is right? I can't decide.
[Elaboration? That's for the sober.]