tearmeanewone | quatre + voice

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quatre + voice

[Backdated to Event End...]

[Voice]

I think that was, maybe, the most haphazard experiment I've been here during. I can't even make a speculation at what the purpose of it was aside from confuse us all.

But I suppose I did meet quite a few people, so perhaps inadvertently its purpose was to remind me of that time when I thought life was much simpler. [That time when she thought no one would ever hurt her, and everything in life was new and beautiful.] And I suppose it gave me my hair back. It's as long as it was before I cut it, now. It's nice, I suppose, but does anyone here give haircuts...?

[Private to Gai - Columbia-Sponsored Unhackable]

How are you feeling? I only grazed you with the lamp, didn't I...? [UNSURE TONE IS UNSURE...]

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[Who could understand you better than yourself, after all. His smile pulls to one side, crooked.] Who said anything of love...?

[He laughs it away, though it's soft and calm with a sort of resignation. Not sharp with disdain.]

Some shapes, perhaps, are more pleasing than others.

...I did. [Elizabeth gives her journal another somewhat annoyed look. Is he the only allowed to name what topics might come up? Not according to her. The subject has been on her mind recently, what with Gai's near-disappearance and then swinging a lamp at him.]

I suppose that's true. I didn't know before I came here that there are people who are attracted to members of their own sex, or sometimes both. And then I suppose some people have 'types' or like blonde hair best, and so on. It seems very complicated.

…Complicated? [At first he seems mildly surprised by the thought - and then comes a soft snort, eyes grim.]

One is simply drawn to that which one is helpless but to yearn for to one’s very blood and bones. Where complication lies is when man endeavours to control these... desires by way of imposing laws that dictate what is natural and unnatural. All at once, a man who favours the flesh of his own kind may be regarded a lesser creature, and if caught, endure rather imaginative tortures at the hands of those who know best. Or be bound to the stake and set aflame until his wretched, sinful bones burn to ashes.

[It's a very different situation in Luceti, and that it is still takes him by surprise after over a year and a half of imprisonment.]

What?

[There is nothing quite so horrifying as that image drawn in her mind's eye. It isn't some nameless person either--it's Jack and Eugene. And perhaps having nearly lost Gai, Elizabeth is a little more raw and a little more susceptible to the images her imagination so readily supplies.]

[There are several moments of silence as Elizabeth tries to own this idea, but she ultimately can't. Her first impulse is to ask why, why such a thing was allowed to happen. But she had seen why with her own eyes--it was the same question she had asked of Booker when she'd seen three bathrooms marked Women, Men, and Colored/Irish. It was the same principle that had founded Finkton. It was the thought behind the displays in the Hall of Heroes.]

[Hate for the Other.]

[She'd hoped that things were different, believed that the fact that Jack and Eugene were married meant that things were different a hundred years later. But it was the same fight, only with different people.]

[After a stretch of a minute of silence, Elizabeth can't find anything to say.]

[It’s an answer that had come so easily to him, too easily to him, as if it things aren't clenching inside him behind a thin, mirthless smile. But the persecution of men who can’t help but love whom they do is an old story, and he's sure that the moment he stops smiling through hurt and placing that half-step of distance is the moment he spirals slowly into madness.

He expected skepticism. He expected mockery in some form. But what he gets is the abject horror he was striving for and it is bitterly satisfying. It is brutal and it is viciously unfair and it should shake someone -- what good it might do now.]

Luceti is a curious place. Here, not only are deviants allowed to exist... but every now and again, they even think to marry. [Even three men, together. Zevran lingers in his memory. His gaze shifts to one side, lids lowering.] ...how nice. [He muses to himself.]

They are not deviants! [There's the outrage she had been looking for.] I know two men who married one another, and they did it because they're in love like any other person in love! There's no 'thinking', it's a commitment they made to one another and it's... it's beautiful to see!

Luceti is not a 'curious place', this is how it should be.

[Blinking, his gaze refocuses on the screen.]

Should. [He snarls the word, cocking his head in a sharp, twisting motion.] But we are not all so fortunate to know what it is like, even here.

[Whether 'it' refers to complete acceptance or being loved or bound by marriage, he doesn't say. All he knows is that there is still one whom has attempted to use his sexual inclinations as ammunition against him, and he will not rest until the day they shake with fear and rue any and every insult they had ever slung his way. Their feud runs deeper than that, though.]

Edited 2013-10-02 12:33 (UTC)

Who is treating you like a deviant here? Who is it? [Elizabeth makes a jump in logic. 'Some of us' and that very emotional response suggests to her that he's talking about something more than just a general phenomenon. But she can't even believe that something so repulsive is happening amongst the imprisoned. They had enough in the way of problems to deal with, was it really necessary to attack other people over something that wasn't anyone else's business?]

[Pale eyes hold hers for a long moment, inscrutably. He’s given pause, not knowing why she demands to know, or rather, what she intends to do with a name if he gave it. He considers telling her for a moment that help is neither solicited nor welcome, but manages to bite it back and for reasons he doesn’t understand, still undecided as to whether he’s surprised by her concern or simply amused or thinks her foolish when his lips finally part to speak.]

Had you a name, what is it you would do?

[It's not the cruel and calculating conspirator in Isaac who evenly poses the question. Not this time.]

Set them straight. Some people just have their heads screwed on backwards and it takes something stronger to fix that.

[~~Like a wrench to the face.~~ She's had experience with people who needed a bit of a world-view adjustment, and frankly, Elizabeth wasn't afraid of doling it out.]

[He chuckles softly through his nose. Not at her so much as at the idea itself as he envisions Elizabeth hurling herself at someone whose raw power dwarfs his own, and out of misplaced concern or pity for a stranger. It's tempting in a masochistic way to give her that name and to sit back, just waiting for heated words or venomous threats to be lobbed in his direction. He feels the bone-deep certainty that she'd lose her indignation and think herself foolish when she'd hear what his enemy would have to say of him, because he is far from a blameless creature.

He knows the ugly, vicious thing he has become and makes little effort to hide it. But others didn't know - though most came to learn soon enough.]

How quick you are to defend one whom you know so very little about.

['tis a mistake, his lingering smile says. You shall learn to regret it.]

My boyfriend is a terrorist and my best friend used to work for the Pinkertons, I don't have it in me to judge people.

[And she didn't have it in her not to throw herself up against the seemingly insurmountable. She had a self-preservation instinct, and a very good one at that, but other things muffled that instinct on occasion...]

[And while that lingering smile unnerves her a little, she isn't about to back down.]

Are you going to give me a name?

[So she’s resolutely pressing on.

He huffs a laugh.

One last thought is given to the possible repercussions of his actions. But with little drive to live and no means of finding permanent rest, he begins to think that it might not be all too bad this once to invite a little chaos into his life. Worst case scenario, her prying would bring hell upon his head in some manner of another, he imagines; and in the best case scenario, he would gain an unexpected ally, and in that have made a bit of headway. Acquiring respect is out of picture -- so what remains is to exact his vengeance and still his enemy’s tongue with fear. It's a dream that often seems more fanciful than anything else, and yet is nearly all that gives him reason to leave his bed and face the day when he wakes. Seeking justice is the cleaner, prettier-sounding term for it.]

If that is what the lady desires, so be it.

[He places a filter.]

But be not surprised when your... good intentions only incite wrath.

[It’s said with grim amusement. Not if but when, because he feels that certain of the outcome.] Although you may rest assured that you, my dear, shall be spared it.

You really are infuriating, do you know that? [Elizabeth is, from her tone, clearly agitated by this latest development. One can almost hear her hands on her hips.]

You've clearly been treated poorly by someone, but when I attempt to do something about it you imply that whatever I do will come back to haunt you.

...Haunt me? [He holds her gaze a moment longer before he snorts in dismissal and glances aside, shoulders bobbing with quiet laughter. But his amusement passes quickly and it leaves him feeling emptier than before. He smiles distantly after a moment.]

In a manner of speaking. [That tone is still in effect.] After all, I don't think I can get any other meaning out of that statement. If I incite wrath, but I would be spared from it, clearly that means that it would go somewhere else. Onto you, maybe, given you're the only other person in this equation I've heard about.

I don't want to make things worse, though. If that's the direction I'm heading in, I have to figure something else out.

[Already, he’s ready and waiting for the moment in the near future where he’s convinced he'll have to remind her that he had never asked her to defend him. Assert that she had no one to blame but herself for the consequences of getting herself involved on some heroic whim.] Her name is Saori Kimura...

[He pauses, his smile a small, mirthless thing. There have been many other times and situations in which he had been vehemently opposed to the 'prying' of others in his affairs, but sometimes change is not unwelcome.] ...a goddess from a world beyond my own. To put it simply, our beliefs unfortunately do not align. So much so that the mere sound of my name shall no doubt sour her mood and darken her gaze.

Well she can deal with a sour mood. I don't have any respect for the mood of a goddess who treats people as though they are inferior--

Which, by the way, she's making a habit of. This Saori person talked down to one of my closest friends as well. [As though she knew what Robert had endured without Rosalind, with only his conscience to twist him into knots. Elizabeth hadn't said anything at the time, she didn't want Robert to feel like he couldn't fight his own battles without her interfering, but she had wanted to.]

My beliefs don't necessarily align with yours either, but that doesn't mean the answer is to treat you as inferior. The world is better with variety.

Heh. I do rather enjoy a bit of change, myself. It keeps things most interesting.

[There’s a vague sense of regret that comes with encountering a few open minds and now, when it means far less to him than it once would have. He shakes off the foolish sentiment.]

A pity about your friend...

[The lie comes easily to him. Even a fiercely independent man can understand situations in which there is power in numbers. He assumes this friend of Elizabeth’s is human - and the idea of being part of something larger than himself and tenuously joined by some common experience to humans and not demons or blasphemers or the other God-forsaken abominations that had stalked the castle feels awkward and strange to him.]

...although I cannot say I am terribly surprised to hear it, alas. So shall I expect to see you riding recklessly across the battlefield with your banner trailing high in the wind?

[Few laugh at his humour, but that's alright - he's got more than enough laughter in him to compensate if and when need be.]

Robert was fine, he doesn't let much affect him, even goddesses I suppose. I was probably more irked than he was. [She sighs, sounding a little exasperated by the whole situation. Robert, in her opinion, should have been annoyed but he had so much guilt that he probably still hasn't let go of completely. That was probably what had prevented him. Maybe.]

[Elizabeth does give a little snort of laughter at the image, though.] No, you can't expect that. I have no idea how to ride a horse.

‘tis not very difficult at all. Persistence is paramount, as with many things… and so long as you are firmly in grip of the reins and in control of the beast, then it shall obey you. Rare is it when there may be cause for concern.

[He rests his chin in his palm, deeply contemplative for a beat.]

‘tis not unlike riding a man, really. Both involve quite a bit of being jostled about, muscles moving and heaving powerfully against your own. [A unabashed laugh.] There is great pleasure derived from taming the more wild-spirited sort; I believe the word for it is ‘breaking’.

[There's a very long pause in here while Elizabeth triple-checks all of her filters and takes a little circle around the room in an attempt to get her face to cool down.]

I wouldn't know anything about that either, really. [Oh such lies she tries to tell.] But I don't think I could just sit on a... horse, and tell it what to do.

[Oh God. This is an image she will never unsee.]

[The reaction is not quite what he had expected - and that much better. Smirking archly, he cocks his head when he is able to catch a better glimpse of her face.]

Is that the blush of an innocent virgin staining your cheek or one of shameful acknowledgement, I wonder?

[Chuckling to himself, he decides to spare her from further interrogation for now.]

You could try. But you would be rather foolish to expect it to carry you anywhere.

Neither! [Elizabeth sounds ruffled--not offended, but flustered at the question. And it was the truth, technically. She wasn't an innocent virgin anymore, but she and Gai hadn't exactly progressed that far yet. So really, it was her imagination that was providing the blush.]

B-but that was my point. I can't just sit down on a horse and break it, not when I've never been on one. It takes practice, and knowledge before practice.

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