-017- :: redux
[A few taps of the pen proceed the entry, idly dotting before the words begin to appear-- though they look more like a list jotted down out of memory than anything else initially, with certain words scribbled out and some emphasized.]
age-shifting, laser tag, bottles, ants, goggles, steaks and flowers?, costumes, dreams, gravity, cars ( Read more... )
age-shifting, laser tag, bottles, ants, goggles, steaks and flowers?, costumes, dreams, gravity, cars ( Read more... )
[He taps Justice's responses, tilting his head for Bastet]
Distractions make it fit a little better. We're here for entertainment, and the distractions keep us from ever truly settling. When we can't really settle, we can't peek behind the curtains. When we're distracted, we can't get our minds around the whole picture. And when we're distracted, it keeps us doing thing,s instead of endlessly mourning our losses. That would lead to more entertainment.
[His fingers drum for a moment on the paper. When he finally speaks, it's quieter, questioning.]
....You think he's lost his memories too? If he is the one with the key to the answers... you think he's forgotten like everyone else? Just like us?
So the system was set up, put into practice, and abandoned. Which... means that answers are much more scattered than I thought.. if they all even still exist.
[He gives an annoyed glance to an empty space of air.] No, we're not attacking him again.
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[She follows his finger, scanning Justice's replies]
He and I have had a similar conversation before. You have to admit, this place does a good job of keeping us frustrated in terms of searching for answers. [She pauses.] You'd have to be supremely detached to be able to ignore all the events, in addition to the death and disappearances and focus on the Sphere's mysteries.
[She nods]
I was told he might have. And the more I think about it, the more it makes sense. I'm not saying it's impossible for me to be fooled--he could just be that good an actor. But he just doesn't strike me as being in control. Not really.
[She tilts her head]
And what else does Praise think?
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[He sets the journal down on his stomach as the replies have paused for some time.] ...I think he's like us, to be honest. When... when Snow led an... I don't want to say assault, but that's the best description of it... against Fugue, he seemed to go into an almost catatonic state while the tree defended him. Whatever hold he may have, it's unknowing.
And... I don't think I'm fit to judge someone who does these things without being conscious of it.
As for Praise... you know how he is when he sees a target to exercise frustrations upon.
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[She draws the corner of her lower lip into her mouth for a moment]
He's not exactly like us. He still knows how to get to the library--he's the one who showed me. There have still been conversations inked out in the journal. He's still in charge of the Guides, and the Guards answer to him. He's still afraid of 'the exile.'
He may not know why he's driven to maintain the status quo, but he still does it.
[She'd been hoping Praise had some further insight to offer--he sometimes did. But no matter.]
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...Perhaps it's his home here. Even if he doesn't remember, he still gets flickering nostalgia and can piece it together. If we went home, we would pick things back up. Things would ping us, strike us as familiar, as 'right.' He could originate from here.
...Have you ever heard the story of Inferno?
[He settled back against the arm of the chair, considering making some coffee- he was sure they would be conversing for a while.]
I remember I told you about the Garden of Eden and the Fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil and how it could apply to Edensphere... it's another religious concept I'm familiar with. In this one, a man journeys to Hell.
The short of it is that Sins are what damn people to torment, and that all Sin originates from Satan, who was once an angel and then fell from heaven. But there is the paradox of him being trapped there as well.
So... even though Hell is his kingdom, where he reigns as king, he still remains a prisoner of it himself. In the story, he is frozen in a lake of ice- and as he beats his wings to escape, the ice grows colder in the wind and freezes him in more solidly.
...I suppose the end of the analogy could simply be... similarly to that story, even if he's created this place and presides over it... he's trapped and a victim as well.
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She shakes her head, listening intently as he relates the story, then nods slowly when he finishes.]
That sounds...frighteningly fitting. Except I'm not sure he'd want to leave, even if he was able. I'd be surprised if he's ever tried.
[She drums her fingers on the couch cushions next to Raise's hip]
But I don't believe he comes from here. I think he was somewhere else, and created this place.
[She meets her eyes] Someone got his dream once; I read about it in an old journal. They said it showed Edensphere being created.
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The technicalities are different, but it's still a case of a ruler falling prey to their creations. And... I doubt he's tried.
[He crosses his arms with a small sigh.]
...If the exiles are trying to recover memories and escape, then they form one side of the balance.. and then Fugue stands for the order here and trying to keep it in order. It would stand to reason that he's for remaining here and being blissful in ignorance.
[Raise glanced to her curiously.] Do you think he's ever received a memory crystal? If he has dreams... then he has clues like we do. But what if he could be forced to remember?
...Who was it? And.. were there any details?
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[She hold his gaze]
Do you remember someone named Anne? She wrote in her journal about having an old man's dream, an old man who is keeping us all here for his own purposes. You were one of the people who responded to her.
[She gets up and quickly goes to where Anne and Vanilla's journals are kept, bringing them back and sitting on the floor once more. She opens both journals to the same entry for comparison, pointing from one to the other.]
Here's what she wrote back...but it only shows up in her journal. It didn't show up in Vanilla's, and if you get your old journal, I bet it didn't show up in that one either.
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She... How did you...
[After looking at both the journals, eyes darting from between them, he closes his mouth, thinking intently on it.]
....I thought she was over-reacting at the time. I hadn't even realized... anything. It was within a few weeks of my arrival.
[He moves to the floor to read over the responses, his brows furrowing as he gets down the page. Mako, Ling... Cassandra... and even Cross's handwriting.] ...Anne never showed up again after this. [He tapped on the journal, the response to his own and Ling's comments.]
...So this confirms that there is a sort of knowing sadism behind it.
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You can be forgiven for that. You still didn't know about Praise at that point, right? You had other issues to deal with.
...and I figured she'd never come back. He obviously has ways of getting rid of those who displease him; it must not have been enough to just wipe her memory.
[She frowns]
It does makes me wonder again--what are the criteria for disappearances? Especially those who haven't been doing any investigations? If we're going with the entertainment theory...does it happen when he's bored? There is a lot of activity surrounding disappearances...but you'd have to be pretty sick to want to watch that sort of thing.
...even so, I wouldn't call it sadism. More...extreme, childish selfishness. Maintaining the status quo at the expense of everything and everyone else, because you've managed to convince yourself it's what's best. I probably speak to him more than anyone, and I don't know him well...but from what I can tell, he very much wants to be seen as capable. He wants to be liked.
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...A lot of people never come back. But is there really a reason for it? And...
[He frowns] If we're all for entertainment, are we being monitored outside the journals? I've never been able to discern a true pattern about those who disappear other than those killed for investigating.
[He looks back up hopelessly] And those who investigate and figure things out... return. Perhaps without memories, but they still return. I suppose no game is fun if there's nothing to play against? But those who outright break the game, or announce the rules... [His gaze fell on Anne's journal] ...Well.
[Extreme, childish selfishness.... He would have to talk to Praise later. Perhaps with his similar mindset he would understand better.] I don't particularly understand... but at the same time, I can see that there would be motives. If someone wants to be liked and viewed as important... and if they're ruthless enough to make sure they meet that end... it's entirely possible.
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It can't be constant monitoring. Or we'd be dead already, just from this conversation.
[She sighs]
I haven't been able to find a pattern either. Not really. Some do disappear after investigating, but others just seem to--leave. For no reason.
[Her voice goes light and faintly sardonic.]
There's nothing wrong with things as they are. If there's a stable structure on which to rely, if no one has to go hungry or without shelter, if there are places to gather and relax as well as more stimulating activities available, if you have the opportunity to forget everything bad that ever happened to you and start all over in a place where you can reinvent yourself...and you dare to go against the person providing all this?
How ungrateful. The sheer audacity.
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Crystala and residences seem safe enough... The marketplace obviously isn't.. and I'm of the opinion that the aquarium is becoming even less so with recent events.
[He grows quieter as he speaks, looking down at the floor between them] Maybe... they don't all disappear. Drake came back. Just for a night. But... he was there. He remembered. [His chest ached to say it aloud, to recognize the fact that Drake was still around the sphere and never seen, never made his presence known until then...] ....Maybe they don't always die, or leave. They're just.. hidden.
As for everything else... I can sympathize with the reasoning. For a long time I considered avoiding receiving memories I thought... if I could just be content here, that would be enough. But we're like insects in an ant farm- removed from our home and purpose for the amusement of a child.
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[She grows quiet, listening as he speaks about Drake.]
If they are all here somehow...then he's the only one able to make himself known. I saw him the night of the ball. We didn't get to speak, though.
[She lets her eyes flick to her bedroom, where she keeps Drake's sword, then leans into Raise's side, hoping to lend him some comfort]
I know he wouldn't stay away from you and Crow without a good reason. There's no way. And if he's not the only one hidden...we have to trust they're doing what they can behind the scenes, just as we are.
[She shakes her head; her voice is firm, but not cruel]
I want to know the details of the event leading to my exile. I want to know what my parents were like. I want to know what I am...I''ve not been allowed to read or hear the word, even though it's shown up in the journal several times now.
I can't sympathize. There's been too much taken from me, all to fill the lack in someone else's life.
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[He folded his arms atop his knees, shoulders slumping a little.] I shouldn't be stupid and stay so attached. It's been well over half a year... more time has gone by than the time we spent together. [He laughs hollowly.]
...I suppose being here, we're never really treated with the closure we need.
[He sighs.] And... Perhaps I shouldn't be so quick to be content here. But... from what I've discovered.. I'm not sure just how different I was back home. [He leans back against the sofa] ...Soldiers, terrorists... whatever we were, we were all fighting. And whatever situation we were in, it made Praise necessary for me. And I'll admit that I'm terrified to find out what that reasoning is.
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[She lays a hand on his arm]
I can't fault you for it. But it's hard to let go of someone when the happiest you remember being was with them. We've only got just over a year's worth of memories--they were in a significant portion.
[She shrugs, then speaks again, in an oddly detached way; she's accessing information she doesn't remember, not even knowing what she'll say before she says it.]
People are the tools the military utilizes to achieve its goals. If the tool they want doesn't currently exist, they'll do what they can to develop it, discarding the failures along the way. So whatever you discover, it will likely be unpleasant.
[She squeezes his arm]
But we'll be here for you when and if you do.
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