WHO: Raven and Rimmer. Closed log.
WHERE: Lake Placid house, their bedroom.
WHEN: Backdated to the night of
this post.WARNINGS: Heavy theological content and philosophy. Discussion of souls. Discussion of humanity and demons. A couple in their pyjamas in bed. Yannow, the usual.
SUMMARY: Rimmer is none too keen on the fact that Raven seems to
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His shoulders started to slump a bit, in tempo with his face falling in disappointment as well. And he knew that she could feel every second of it, what she was doing to him. And, in his own petty way, he was glad. She was being stubborn. Another fight. Another bloody fight.
They were getting married too soon. That was the bottom line, and he knew it. They needed more time to work out their compromise points, their philosophies, their...their everythings. He loved her so much...and he kept on failing her, disappointing her, doing all these nasty things that made her roll her eyes and then go bring in another male to live under this roof. Probably so she'd have a buffet of choice when she finally did dump him.
The frigid upset started to slide in to Arctic depression, black and midnight blue and howling.
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Azar be damned...
Very slowly she allowed herself to roll over, but absolutely refused to look up at him. One, she knew she'd be able to see the pain on his features if she did... and two, she was already ashamed of how she had been acting.
Now facing him, she curled into his side. Maybe he'd take that as a silent apology? Maybe? If she was lucky?
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At the age of thirty-nine, Octavius was eligible to run for Praetor. According to flibble cloob blip beep tang marsh rammling...
The words turned to gibberish after he stared at them too hard, and he had to put the book down for a moment to rub at his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. And he sighed, a deep, weary sigh of defeat.
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Her voice just barely broke over the harsh silence. His emotions were getting to be too much for her, and she had to wonder if he knew the level it affected her at. He could get his way with almost anything if he threw the proper emotions at her, the ones that would make her crack and fold to his will.
"More than anything."
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"I know you do," he whispered back. "I love you, too. Very, very much. So much that I..."
He brutally cut himself off, though, and prevented himself from finishing that sentence. Because the next words out of his mouth were going to be the opening salvo of that conversation she didn't want to have. He was a petty, immature smegger sometimes, but even he knew he had to shut his damn mouth tonight or there would be consequences.
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Very slowly she sat up, still against him, and tucked her chin onto his shoulder with a heavy sigh of her own.
"... it's okay, Arnold. Best to get it over with..."
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He automatically adjusted with her, slinking down a little lower so she wouldn't have to crane her neck to rest her chin on his shoulder. And he also rested the side of his face against hers, his temple against her forehead.
"You've made it very clear you don't want to talk about this. So we won't discuss it."
Even though he so desperately wanted to. It bothered him in some subtle and insidious ways, that she was being so adamant about this topic, that she had absolute, indelible proof of her soul, or lack thereof. Especially given his own status as a hologram. Her insistence that she wasn't like him in this area worried him, since they had so much else in common...stupid, but there it was.
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She was in no hurry to pull away, or even move closer. The way they were sitting now was just fine - being close without being all over one another. How was she going to face this without there being another argument? No matter how she tried to phrase it in her mind, it always seemed to lead to that point.
... oh well.
"... so it's okay."
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"What is this, emotional blackmail? Tonight you barely even look at me, don't say a word to me, and it's only when you can feel how depressed that makes me, that you reverse course so I don't give you a headache? Thanks, Raven. Thanks for nothing."
And then he realises how that sounds. Welp. She's got him pegged. Bitter resentment, table for one! He sighed again and shook his head.
"All right, fine. True. But you're the one who's been avoiding me all night. Why? Why aren't you willing to talk to me about this?"
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"Because... you seem to think what I believe is wrong... or... is a bad thing for me to believe." she grimaced a bit as the words came out.
"I'd like this to be something I can believe without people telling me I'm wrong."
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...Why was he the one to so loudly insist that he was less-than-human as a hologram? Because it was his own form of self-punishment, his figurative rosary beads to worry and gnaw on and count his guilts and his sins. In that one flash of insight, he got it, and the resentment melted into something considerably warmer. Something like...well, no, not pity, but fellow-feeling.
"Because everybody tells you you're always wrong about everything else, but everybody agrees that you have no soul, is that it?"
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"I've talked to other demons, I've spoken with people like Lucifer, who knows my father better than I even do. I'm honestly fine with not having a soul, I feel it's a bit overrated now, after having time to think about it. Not having one is a part of who I am, and I can't change that."
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He was firmly of the opinion that he'd lost his soul the moment he'd died, and all their discussions to the contrary wouldn't convince him otherwise. But...in spite of his disbelief, in spite of his contradictory denial and simultaneous loathing of God...he wanted rest.
A reward. Justice. Peace. Torment. Something. Not a psuedo-immortality, wandering the Earth accumulating memories until he went mad. He wanted to know it was all worth something in the end. He wanted to know that...that if it came down to it, and he and Raven were separated by the 'Porter, that he'd have something, somehow, someday to look forward to, as he took possession of a shiny new ethereal body in heaven and had her at his side.
Which seemed to require a soul, to his way of thinking, as the price of admission. So if she didn't have one, his eternal reward was kind of pointless.
And he had no way to articulate this to her. But damn it, he was going to try.
"...And what about me? What about how I'm made now? My lack is just as much a part of who I am, and yet you're trying to talk me out of it too. Why? And don't give me that crap about me beating myself up over my lack of humanity. I've seen you do the same thing. Dozens of times. You are always castigating yourself over your demonic heritage. But what about your human heritage?"
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But that got off point... a point that was already off point to begin with, but if Arnold wanted so badly to drag himself into this discussion, then so be it. In her mind, this had nothing to do with him, but he was making it about him. Again. One of his flaws that she loved him in spite of.
"I still believe you have a soul. I thoroughly believe everything I told you. Do I have a way of knowing for sure with you? No. However I do believe it's there."
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"I'm not trying to take anything away from you! I'm trying to...to give you something! I'm trying to show you that you do have a soul. Without one...well, you'd be what Starscream said. A drone. And you're definitely not one of those."
He turned to her fully, now, rubbing at his chin distractedly, his book entirely forgotten.
"But...wait, hang on, there was something Joey said. Something about how he couldn't possess things without a soul. So he can't jump into...a can of cola or something. And he's able to possess your body easily enough, you said."
It was, what he thought, his trump card, using Joey's powers to bring her about to his way of thinking.
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Now she had to face it head on.
"He... can possess intellectual beings." she tried to choose her words carefully, but only the initial set came out that way, as the emotional tear turned into a gap at just having to talk about this subject.
"... he was fine jumping into those with souls, all right? Just fine. What happened when he began to make that link with me? I've told you all about that. I've been nothing but disaster for him, Arnold."
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