Record: 35
(Red inked entry)
Why here
Please don't mean what i think
(Inkblots)
Tybalt. I need to see you. Today. You'll be in the Scavenger's Yard?
Why here
Please don't mean what i think
(Inkblots)
Tybalt. I need to see you. Today. You'll be in the Scavenger's Yard?
[Tybalt, somehow, is much more at ease with the prospect of this meeting than the last. Possibly because it's happened before now and also possibly because this time, his sister was meeting him in his element - paradise the Scavenger's Yard.
He's made his way toward just in front of the elevator, where he's waiting for Juliet's arrival at a spot where he'll see him coming right away, killing time in front of a mound of stray beams and plates of metal he'd gathered starting to take some kind of shape.]
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The door opened, and he put a smile on his face.)
Good to see you again.
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A feeling shared on both sides of the equation.
[He glances at the not-quite-shapeless pile of scraps, taking his hand off it and walking over to Juliet.]
What's the problem?
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I found some things that might interest you...
This is apparently a slinky. Fascinating little thing...
(He then sits down on a pile-not the one Tybalt was working on-and began to scan the black volume.)
Act 2...scene 4...
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Act 2 Scene 4. That a play you're holding?
[His curiosity is piqued and he waits for Juliet to find what he's looking for...]
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(He finds the specific lines, then instead of showing them, reads them. )
"...why, what is Tybalt? More than prince of cats. O, he is the courageous captain of compliments..."
Don't ask how I know, but they're talking about fencing.
(He flips backward through the pages.)
And this...
"Good night, good night. Parting is such sweet sorrow/That I shall say 'Good night' till it be morrow."
Look at who says that.
(Almost reluctantly he gives the book.)
That line...that book was in my dream.
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Romeo and Juliet. Heh... So this is where our names are derived from?
[He continues to read it, flipping through interestedly, skimming the scene before the titular Juliet's goodnight - a twitterpated rendezvous on a balcony between her and the also titular Romeo. Cute, but...
He can't help but flip forward, skimming for the "More than prince of cats" bit, grinning a bit more honestly and smugly when he finds it, reading the rest of the monologue, feeling a surge of pride multiply and expand, then skipping further and further to isolate every time his name occurs in the text.
And he finds where he appears. Not his namesake, for all he cares. That's his name he's reading. He grits his teeth with a peculiar excitement through the beginning of Act 3 -
He feels an infuriating twinge when he reaches the end.
And hopes it didn't show on his face. He tries to give no hint of any kind of reaction.]Not acquainted with ( ... )
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(He watches as Tybalt reads the other scene, noting the twitches in his face.
The mention of "Romeo" makes the demon's face flash into his mind for a minute, accompanied by a sick feeling.)
Not that I know of...You can borrow the book, if you want.
(With the nicknames, he can't help it. His hands twist violently, touching the coat, and his acting fades, revealing Juliet's true face today-he looks as if he's about to either cry or faint.)
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Huh... So a few of these fractals knew the sources of our names before we did.
Thanks. It'll be transferred back to your side once I'm through with it. Not a 1/2 bad discovery of yours.
[He sets the book next to his crude beginnings of a sculpture and, once he turns around, sees Juliet fidgeting with a look of distress.]
...What the fucking factor, sis, I knew something was wrong, couldn't you just get it out instead of breaking yourself down into front of me like this?
[By now closer than he'd normally willingly get to someone, smile fully wiped off, arms folded.]
Someone get subtracted again or some of the tree's similar garbage like that?
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There's a possibility I'm just assuming the worst.
(His words aren't convincing.
Finally he blurts it out.)
The coat...it's not just fashion. It's tied to a memory...which I should tell you about but it's long...and I asked to have it made. Didn't expect it done for a few days, at least. Then I woke up and it was outside the door. And that...he doesn't do that. It tipped me off.
...I've got the worst bloody feeling and I can't shake it. I think Iris is gone.
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For ∞'s sake, this keeps on happening irrationally.
[He considers saying several things - does that mean he knew he was leaving, does anyone have any idea where people go or why when they disappear, but decides better of it.
Instead, he goes in for an inevitability but borderline subject change.]
We're already here + we've got a remainder of time. You fine > telling me about this memory of yours?
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Juliet explains exactly what happened in the memory, not trying to justify what happened. He tenses when it comes to Angelina, but blankly states what he did. When he finishes, he doesn't meet his brother's eyes.)
...I was such a bloody monster.
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Except for a little inside flicker of frustration.]
And I unloaded a gun at some hectopascal.
Least you actually hit your factoring mark instead of substituting places with your prey.
[Yeah. You know this thing called tact? Because he doesn't.]
Whatever you think about what you did, sis, it sounds like she dug her own grave. Something was gonna happen.
Come to think of it, I haven't told you about my last memory, either, though it was estimably as zetta dull as the previous. I was at some kind of meeting. There was this chilly blonde woman in glasses, this guy called Megs, and they were introducing me to some dreadlocked hectopascal built like a tank, called him a Game Master.
Hmph. Like that's even relevant. But now you know. I did bring that last part up last time I wrote.
...Look, sis, that = then, this = now. It sounds like it was your factoring job to kill back then. Make the most of the given that we start out here undefined. I'm not gonna let my past life predetermine how this ( ... )
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I'm...just sorry I had to do it, I think.
(Tybalt's words sink in slowly as he traces imaginary circles on the metal.)
So...you don't mind that I'm inhuman?
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Do I sound like I mind? I'm not even zetta sure what I am.
[In fact, he's smiling a bit again, now that Sister seems to be a little relieved.]
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(He quickly murmurs the phrase, and his scythe is called into existence.)
...It can cut through anything.
(Now he's got a more playful expression. Sister and her dangerous toy.)
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