Day 48: Courtyard

[thatdamnedninja]

"I could tell you some stories," Yuffie suggested brightly, "of unquestionable legality." Illegality, that was. Petty little things like the law didn't usually mean very much to her, except for the times when she had to uphold it. Always fun for the breaking, though, the law, and messy for the clean-up. Just the way she liked it

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[finalwitch]

The theory proposed on the bulletin--the one suggesting their entire lives were elements of fiction--was unexpected. In its own morbid way, however, it made sense. The idea took everything into account at one fell swoop, creating a clean cut hypothesis compared to the others. Occam's Razor, more or less. With false realities, she could reason away Rolo's Area 11, Albedo's hundreds of not-siblings, and Junpei's Shadows and Tartarus. She could clear away the presence of an island's legend--

Beatrice, the Witch in Gold, the culprit of the Rokkenjima Mass Murder incidents.--and the living vessel of a beloved brother

[dreadofthegrave]

Though it was only his second day there, Battler couldn't help but decide that there was something unsettling about this place. It seemed that in every direction, there was some new question to be asked. That much was normal--there were always questions --but these weren't quite on the same level. It was frustrating, to know so little. Back on the game board, there was at least some sense of direction, but even that wasn't certain here. It seemed like every moment of calm was shattered by something bizarre, but not the kind that he was used to debating. The grey clouds didn't help, either; they were too reminiscent of the storms that came, trapping everyone on the island. .... They always started out innocent like this, didn't they. Rather than a gloomy day, it almost felt like a sign that something bad was going to happen. Of course, that was an idiotic thought. Cloudy skies were brought about by the weather cycle. There was no such thing as a 'sign'; foreshadowing was something that occurred in fiction, not reality

[finalwitch]

Thoughts continued, a compilation of questions and answers rolling inside her head. Perhaps it was dangerous to entertain a concept gotten by a pure whim. Perhaps she was overcome by boredom. Who could say? As long as no interruptions occurred, Ange would persist. It was all she could do at this state.

Of course, just as the young woman began to unearth the more interesting pieces, she caught the two syllables of a fake name and stopped. If the speaker had been anyone else, Ange would have continued her walk without caring if they would bother to join her. If it had been anyone else...

She glanced up the taller figure, her face unconsciously contorting in pain at his features. It vanished in the next second, leaving one to wonder if the expression had ever been there. Even she couldn't say. "Are you still on about that?" Ange muttered, not bothering to offer a return greeting. "...It's fine. It was more my fault anyway. Sorry."

[dreadofthegrave]

... This wasn't going to be easy, was it? Were he to be honest, that expression was probably something he'd normally overlook completely, but this time, it was more than obvious. It was hard to tell if it was because he'd grown a little more mature or understanding, or if it was only because the knowledge of the situation amplified everything. Battler pretended to turn and look to the side for a moment, so that he could prevent himself from visibly cringing. That sort of thing wasn't going to help anything, after all

[finalwitch]

"Wrong idea" was an understatement. The entire conversation last lunch had been strewn with misconceptions and lies, and if Ange was honest with herself, straightening them out would require too much. How was she supposed to tell her brother (even with his presence under questioning) that 'Greta' was as uncertain as the existence of unicorns? You did not come out and claim such things after throwing off his affections like...

Dammit. If she could wring her hands and scream, she might have made quite the spectacle in the courtyard. As it was, Ange simply regarded each gesture, look, and word with a blank stare. Even if she would rather cling despairingly to Battler's arms and cry.

"They're as expected," she answered, voice cold. "I'm somewhat surprised no one has died yet considering all the stories, but whatever..." As though prompted by a thought, the young woman began to assess him visually. "You look unharmed."

[dreadofthegrave]

It was funny. The first time Battler had met this Ange, he'd had trouble dealing with her way way of speaking. He'd always been like that; it was hard to deal with people who seemed cold or distant, especially being the sort of person who wanted to laugh and screw around. However, he was slowly beginning to realize that a cold exterior was normally just that; an exterior. Natsuhi, Kyrie, even Dlanor; that initial distance wasn't the entire story. Now that he could understand their feelings a little better, his perspective was completely different. That was doubly true for Ange. On the outside, it looked like a failed attempt, like they couldn't get along and he was just being annoying by continuing to try, but that sense wasn't present. Probably, no matter what she did or said, he would never get a sense of animosity from it, even where most people would

[finalwitch]

Something in his reaction was worrisome, and Ange wavered momentarily in response. For a minute, she feared she might have crossed a line with her comment, except the girl couldn't be sure what had thrown him off. Eyes fell to the ground below them, tracing lines and patterns in the paved path until Battler saw fit to speak again. When he did, she had regained her stoic's face.

Only to be lost in the next instant.

"Guy with a...sword?" Ange echoed, the disbelief obvious in her tone. "What happened?" Whatever happened was unacceptable. Certainly, Battler was still well and good, but the prospect of being attacked by an armed person was hardly worth a brush off. As such, his open concern lay forgotten, with Ange torn on the possibility of loss. Again.

[dreadofthegrave]

That was an easier recovery than excepted. It wasn't that talking like this was simple, but it was by far less strained than the previous day, where he was trying not scream under the sudden flood of emotions. They were definitely still there, but his time, they could actively be fought against. For that reason, he was more than glad for the subject. Something unfamiliar would probably be the easiest for both of them

[finalwitch]

The urge to berate Battler and his poorly-worded explanation rose sharp and fierce. Even in light of confusion, he shouldn't have been so careless; he should have ran for his life the moment the sword came into view--or at the very least, defended himself. Ange opened her mouth to say exactly that, only to recall a couple of minor details: one, she was playing the stranger to Battler. Concern would unfortunately give too much of that lie away.

And two, she hadn't been there to prevent the mistake. Dealing out chastisements now, after running around with a mere acquaintance as opposed to protecting her brother, would be the grossly hypocritical.

In a last-minute decision, Ange inhaled nasally before grunting, "Just be less of an idiot next time." Be more careful, she added silently.

[dreadofthegrave]

In a normal situation, Battler probably would have taken offense to that comment, but instead, he ended up grinning. Because of the person it came from, the hidden meaning wasn't hard to understand. It was that, right? That 'tsundora' persona George-aniki predicted was going to get popular sometime in the near future. Battler couldn't say he knew much about those sorts of trends, but the concept was easy to spot

[finalwitch]

Her heart skipped several beats as Ange considered Battler, although the reason for the reaction had nothing to do with his short speech. To be honest, it leaned toward the cheesy side of the spectrum, to the point she had to wonder if he had always been this dramatic in her memories. The sentiment hardly mattered, she supposed, not when the fear of loss lingered too close to the surface.

But what could Ange do? Battler was his own person. A "stranger" didn't have much of a say in looking over another's well-being. Ah, well. Whether fake, fictional, dead, or otherwise-- As long as he stayed unharmed, as long as he exercised caution, he could rant about stupid things as much as he wanted.

She shook her head, something like pity in the motion, and went to shoot down his poetics. Battler didn't give the young woman a chance, however. His next words touched on a subject that had her fumbling for a response. Giving up more than you think? What could he possibly mean by that

[dreadofthegrave]

Ah, geez, how was he supposed to answer that...? The actual meaning wasn't something he could lay out in the open with uncovering what he knew, which amounted to more than was safe. There was no saying that revealing things indirectly would cause the same sort of effect, but that was something he couldn't even dream of testing. That single scene had already played too many times, and there was no reason to create a new one for some meaningless sense of self-comfort. Of course, that didn't mean Battler wanted to lie, either. Weren't there too many building up already

[finalwitch]

Battler sounded more and more like a hopeless optimist with each passing breath. She wouldn't argue that having someone who consistently cared for her welfare would be wanted. In truth, Ange desired the circumstance more than life: the knowledge she had a single ally in the world, even if that world happened to be as stale as today's weather

[dreadofthegrave]

That, huh...? Battler was more than aware of the details; how couldn't he be? There was no erasing the glimpses of that cruel, harsh world as her blood seeped into his back. ... He could still cry over everything. Every subtle reminder didn't get better with time. But that was useless, especially with her standing right in front of him. There was no way that their pain measured up; his own was only second-hand. For her, everything had to be much, much worse, and if she could hold up under all of that weight, who was he to scream over it, especially when so much could have been prevented...? It was more than a struggle to stop himself from yelling out something stupid, about how it was okay if she cried, that there would be nothing wrong with releasing those painful feelings. Somehow, her composure made that even worse. If he could just do that for both of them, then he gladly would, not caring what sort of scene he caused as he screamed, but... Neither could. Not under these pretenses

[finalwitch]

His responses grew only stranger; they were answers one would normally expect from eternal optimists...or people who sincerely cared. Ange found herself at a loss. Seriously, what was up with this guy? Did he feel some sort of obligation to Greta for looking like his sister? Of course, it was really her in this case, but that did nothing in terms of explaining his behavior. Couldn't he keep apart one from the other even if they were the same person in technicalities

[dreadofthegrave]

That statement struck a chord in Battler, enough that he was almost taken aback. For some reason, he couldn't tell if there was some hidden message in those words, or just a bit of unintended irony. Maybe it was both; even he had been doing that during the course of their conversation. It wasn't something intentional, just an unfortunate side-effect of what he was desperately trying to keep internal. Could it be the same for her