[ TELEVISION BROADCAST ] February 18

[bezejmenny]

[At 10:15 am, a Special Report interrupts the regularly scheduled program. It opens with an aerial shot of a gathering crowd at an outdoor stage in Elysium.]

Correspondent [voiceover]: NGBC just received word that former senator Johan Liebert is en route to Bryant Park to deliver a public statement. Liebert was last seen on August 26, 2009, when h

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BRYANT PARK | Elysium

[deferential]

[It was only a brief cut -- still his Cinematic Record was released as it would be for anyone who was pierced with a scythe. The film floated around him with nowhere to go and no one to view it save those that actually took time out of their panic to do so. Nothing particularly special -- just the last few months of his life. Dealing with the various OMEGA agents, the weather, and overtime. Nothing particularly worth noting save the anger that he apparently had over Soifon and Siarnaq's duo disappearances.

Little bit deeper. To review his own life and see the mistakes which were made, perhaps, that was why he was going so slow about his suicide.

His hand paused on the handle of his scythe when he realized that someone was talking to him. The thin line around his throat where his scythe was cutting into -- end tips of his glasses had already been cut through, but for everything else it was still quite shallow as the Record halted what it was playing. William allowed himself to look down at his suit to see that the front had become quite red. And refocused his gaze on Gladias.]

Honestly. It's quite hopeless. Everything.

[Speech was naturally quite difficult with opening his jaw too much just drove the blade deeper into his skin, but given what he was doing, it really did not seem to matter. Even more so why he was stopping to chat someone up about the reasons for his suicide. Perhaps, to convince the other to join him. Perhaps.]

Re: BRYANT PARK | Elysium

[suaviloquent]

[ raising an eyebrow and looking at the film strips that fluttered around the air, gladias couldn't help making a small, rueful noise. especially when he watched the scythe blades starting to cut a little deeper into skin, drawing bright rivulets of blood. what a strange sight. suicide was always such a curious phenomenon to him -- why bother taking one's own life? and so, he was honestly just curious as he watched william slowly cut his face off.

but it wasn't until william spoke up that his interest was piqued a little further. because -- hopeless. everything? rolling the mouthpiece of his pipe around his lips, chewing at the tip for a moment, he canted his head sideways in thought, letting out a thoughtful hum. brows furrowed, hand to chin. a moment passed, and a second, before he suddenly reached out. hand grasping about the handle of the scythe and tugging it away enough that william would have a hard time finishing the job. ]

I'd rather disagree.

[ his voice was quite pleasant, and he spoke with a smile -- clashing with the tight grasp he kept on the scythe, making sure that the suicide wouldn't be carried through before he let go. ]

'Hopeless' is such an ambiguous word, you see, and I fully doubt that it would apply to 'everything.' Would you mind explaining your thought process? I find it most curious that you would adhere to the thought so strongly that you would bother to carry out this tedious process.

BRYANT PARK | Elysium

[deferential]

[His glasses started to slip down his face slightly and his hand automatically rose to push them up, but was halted in doing so the normal way as his scythe was in the way of doing so. His gloved hand moved around to push them up by the bridge instead of the side -- scraping the sides of the plastic as he slid them firmly in place. How annoying. Did he not hear what the Senator had said? His eyebrows knit together. But if this person were to follow in his footsteps, if he was to become another one to retrieve corpses. His eyes closed for a moment as he explained.]

It is just as Liebert explained. The chaos has already descended and the souls of all those present have become corrupt. Eventually, the population will dwindle to nothing. We only have so many reapers to gather the bodies. It will continue and the rotting of their souls will escalate.

[There was a dreamy tone to William's voice. Not like the usual cold and stern manner in which he usually spoke in -- always calm, always barely showing any real emotion to those around him. Odd as he continued to speak, he did just as his glasses did, continued to scrape his jaw along the blade. An impromptu shaving, perhaps, that only kept tearing the skin -- allowing more Cinematic Records to be seen. Little further back now of December and the boring times of being under the lock and key of A&O. He had spent most of his time writing notes in his book, and wondering about the trouble that was going on that could not be regulated.]

BRYANT PARK | Elysium

[suaviloquent]

[ canting his head sideways to peer at the film strips that continued to snake through the air around them, gladias was torn between being amused and confused. he wasn't that closely acquainted with william, but at least had spent enough time watching william -- mostly in the process of abandoning any boring-looking tasks in william's care -- and he could tell that something was very strange, very wrong. -- because of liebert? finger tapping at his chin, he hummed in thought for a moment. ]

Liebert, Liebert. Ah -- [ he'd never cared much for politics, but he remembered at least some little something about that name. ] -- of course. The Senator. I assume he must have given a speech of some sort, judging by what you're saying. [ a pause. brows furrowed. ] Though I must say, I didn't think you would be this rude -- what you're doing is interfering with the conversation, no?

[ arm lashing out in a quick movement, he tore the scythe out of william's hands and let it clang onto the floor -- tearing a large-ish gash in william's cheek in the process, but not really caring. merely shaking his hand to get the blood off of his fingers as he continued, smiling around his pipe. ] Now that the interference has been taken care of, let us continue. -- because, if I may say -- your argument is rather weak, no? If your work were to become more difficult, all that is necessary is that you try harder, I would think.

BRYANT PARK | Elysium

[deferential]

[His reflexes and responses had considerably slowed down. He barely had time to register that his scythe was torn out of his hand until he heard it clattering on the ground. His fist clenched for a moment -- anger that it was no longer present in his grip -- and a brief flickering of the man that he actually was. Someone who did not allow others to take the weapon and soul-reaping instrument of a reaper. Moment come and gone as he was leaning down to pick it back up to continue. His fingers twitched involuntary when he was told he was being rude.]

Ah, manners, manners.

[Manners first then return to killing himself. The logic was slowly returning to him, but still just so sluggish in thinking normally. Still the faint drawl in his words and hopelessness wrapped around each one. Another adjustment of his glasses as he swayed slightly where he was standing; not enough to give the impression that he was going to fall over at any second but merely trying to find the right footing on uneven ground.]

The amount of overtime. Is it worth it? If their souls continue to rot, the A&O will no longer allow their revival. Even your lifeline will end with your soul already dead.

BRYANT PARK | Elysium

[suaviloquent]

[ it wasn't exactly that gladias was trying to persuade william not to commit suicide -- no, that would involve entirely too much effort, and he honestly wouldn't mind the amusement that watching william slice his own face off would bring about. but what he did want was an explanation. he hated when people left things unclear and ambiguous, and he intended to let william carry on the task only once he'd extracted a detailed explanation.

leaning forward the snatch the weapon back out of william's hands -- this time holding onto it behind his back out of william's reach -- he gave a cheerful nod. ]

Thought focusing entirely on work -- it seems very fitting of you. And yet -- you reach decisions rather hastily, don't you. [ idly toying with the scythe -- what a strange weapon -- he spoke casually, shifting his weight from one foot to the next, his hair flickering in the breeze. ] And as for myself -- your concern is heartbreaking, but I don't think I would worry about such a thing just yet.

[ smile widening, he twirled the scythe with one hand. ] If the overtime is not worth it, then simply abandon it. Or work hard enough to make it worthwhile. Your line of thought is rather weak, no?

BRYANT PARK | Elysium

[deferential]

[His glare returned when he watched his scythe being handled by Gladias -- even more annoyed that it was being kept out of his grasp. Fingers continued to clench every so often; knuckles turning white before relaxing. It was fine, wasn't it? He was going to kill himself in a bit so this sudden rush of anger (righteous anger?) was useless. Yet it remained and allowed it to slowly wash through the hopelessness.]

Hastily? These thoughts have been this way --

[It wasn't a lie. He had been very worried about it. The fickle nature of his superiors had always been something that he had to be careful of -- keep their eyes away from certain individuals (certain souls) and try to extend that blindness to the entire city. So long as they remain oblivious and remove their influence; things would be all right. That was why he was working so hard, working through the overtime which he hated so much and removing any sort of free time that he actually had, so to protect as many souls as possible. Lest they all rot and be devoured by their own darkness.

Exactly ... exactly who was going to be involved in checking these things if he was to die? Ah, what did that matter? What did it matter if he was going to die soon? His hand came to rest over his face, smearing the blood from his self-inflicted and simply inflicted gashes. The blood seeping in through his gloves as he continued to hold his head. If he continued to he halted to think about what he was doing; that hopelessness would --]

It's simply all just too hopeless. What can we do with all this chaos around us? The souls have already chosen which path they wish to go down. They will begin eating each other next. There is too much for a single individual to do.

[Less conviction in his words, less disconnection.]

BRYANT PARK | Elysium

[suaviloquent]

[ as apathetic as gladias was, he could tell that william's will to shear his own head off was wavering -- and this, in a way, he took as a challenge. how fun would it be if it turned out that he could overturn what had seemed like such a strong determination at first? not because he wanted william to live, of course -- he didn't really care whether the reaper survived this conversation or not -- but because he found it something like a verbal sparring math. and so, still toying with the scythe in his hands -- musing if he could simply take the weapon if william did die, it looked rather fun -- he spoke with a smile. ]

If it is too much for a single individual to do, then -- why bother thinking about the consequences? As far as I know, your job does not require you to consider the eventual aftermath of your work -- or what would happen if your work weren't properly carried out. [ perhaps his arguments weren't built with the soundest of logic as the base, but what did he care? this was a game, now, and all he wanted was to see if he could perhaps make william crack. ]

How weak of you, if you were to simply give up. [ smiling, he paused to toy with the scythe -- giving it an experimental slice through the air. it really was quite a nice weapon. not even looking at william as he continued, as if dismissing how weak william might be. ] If you were a man proper caring for your job, you would either work hard enough to salvage what you call this hopeless future -- or you would carry on regardless of its hopelessness. To end your own life is rather pathetic, no? [ a good natured laugh. ] Like a moth flying into a candle.

BRYANT PARK | Elysium

[deferential]

As far as you know.

[It almost sounded like he was talking with Faust -- one of the few people he actually spent time conversing with when he was stuck in the Abyss. Something that he wanted because the level which was allowed to descend into chaos; it could seep up to the others. Would his work then become useless? All his work in bringing the bodies in. What job would they give him next? He had started to work more and more because of the disappearance of his subordinates; even if those listed were not dead, he still did not think that allowed him to rest particularly easily. The chaos of now showed that he was not allowed much. But just where had they gone? Just what were his superiors doing?]

Weak?

[His fingers twitched. He had yet to remove his hand from his face; if he continued to see this person play around with his scythe -- What did he care about what this person thought of his actions? People were always trying to goat him into some reaction and that was why he had to accept everything (do everything) with calm and controlled manner. Calm. Controlled? What was he doing now? His eyes focused on the artificial blackness that his hand created. What was he doing?

Killing himself? Over the words of a man that he hated? He had wanted -- no, demanded -- that Johan give an apology in the back of his head. And somehow, somehow, that thought had disappeared. Where had his righteous anger gone? If it had not been for Johan, he would not have had to disobey his superiors in reviving everyone from the Battle Royale. If it were not for Johan, he would not have been suspended and locked away in A&O headquarters. Exactly, what reason did he have to listen to anything that man had to say.

William could honestly say that he felt humans were occasionally annoying and troublesome creatures; they did things without logic and without a steady hand. They focused more on their emotions than facts. It was annoying. Especially when he had to take a body to the Ministry. The amount of posturing and whining to allow them to find the killer, discover the cause. Ah.

His free hand shot out, grabbing onto his scythe and pulling it back to him. He finally felt back to himself as he lowered his hand away from his face to show the outright rage that he felt for being tricked into trying to kill himself. The words were spit out with more venom than he ever allowed anyone to see. Calm control over his face to keep the true anger from showing, but it was obvious in his stance and the way that he clutched his weapon.]

Honestly. I am going to make sure that man's soul is never revived.