[A few hours after dawn finally returns to Aldrip, there's a knock at the door to Dante's home-cum-office loud enough to hopefully be heard throughout the building.
The lack of communication available during the dark hour highlighted further how much Altius had relied on phones back in his own world; the tablet's lack of access to the locals was enough of an obstacle, but having all avenues other than physical meetings cut off had markedly limited his ability to keep an eye on the other Chosen and any developments they might have found. Suffice to say he didn't like it.
Dante was a part of those he'd wanted to track down, but between his exploration of the dangerous city for supplies and his own purposes, he hadn't ended up tracking the other down. Rather than immediately return to the network to contact Dante, he decided to dedicate his efforts to finding them in person. He wanted to have a conversation he was fairly sure they wouldn't want to be recorded, anyway.
However it is that he finally lays eyes on that clock again, it will be with a look of some tension, as if he's been holding on to some concern. The past week hasn't been kind to any of them, anyway.]
[It's the only thing they can say to a look like that. They can only assume it's due to the way they flinch when they move just so, or the way they're a little slower getting around their office.
It's neither the worst pain they've been in nor the worst injury they've had--not even close--but it's not like Altius knows that.]
[So his acquaintance was harmed after all. It's no great surprise, he supposes, but he's still not pleased about it.]
I hope you'll understand if that doesn't entirely reassure me... but it's good to see you.
[He lets out a brief breath, cutting out his usual small talk for a more direct manner. This is more serious than a business matter, anyway, and his tone makes that clear.]
[and he still has the potential of an injury in one instance but listen. healing magic is so overpowered.]
But I came across— [he pauses for effect, though there's an uncertain furrow to his brow.] —a doppelganger of yours, I believe. It had some strange things to say.
[His tone lends significant negative weight to the statement. It wasn't a meeting he enjoyed.]
[First Yuri gets to see their secrets dragged into light, now Altius. And from some copycat creature that seems determined to paint them in the worst possible light.
They heave a heavy, breathless sigh, shoulders rising and falling.]
< ...It exaggerated. I may be an amnesiac, but I'm not as worried about what my memories hold as it made me out to be. Though I can't say I'm happy about people knowing about my memory to begin with... >
[Is it truly an exaggeration, or was it simply drawn from a place Dante refuses to acknowledge? He wonders... but none of that comes to the surface.]
I understand. What you do or don't feel about anything in your mind is a personal matter.
[I'm going to say he's moved inside at this point because the last thing he'd want is for the winter air to make Dante's injuries more uncomfortable. Between showing concern for their physical well being and offering without prompting what secrets the copy shared, he hopes to build trust.]
It also spoke of an aimlessness that came with that lack of memory. [He's not looking directly at Dante, partly to not pressure them into giving any answers; he's not here to ask direct questions about their inner doubts, as much as he might like to learn them. So, to give them an out:] But the way it acted made it clear it wasn't truly you.
[He turns to look at them again with a breath let out through his nose.]
[They've already mentioned it over the network once.]
< It's hard to think of what you want to do with your life when you only remember about a year of it. >
[That he's so convinced their doppelganger ultimately wasn't them... It helps. The threats it made, and the things it said... All exaggeration, nothing more.]
< Just making sure, but it didn't do anything to you, did it? I know you said it just spoke to you, but... No threats? Nothing like that? >
Not at all. Unless you consider implying I'd meet another "me" a threat.
[And it certainly would have been a problem if he had, but neither of the Dantes could really know that.]
But I'll tell you what I said then: it's alright to be uncertain. One year is a very short time to learn about yourself and what you want. [He gestures casually with one hand.] It took me nearly twenty of them.
[That's a weight off their shoulders. Bad enough that Yuri had had a gun pointed at him. Altius didn't need the same thing to happen to him.]
< I know that, I do. Just one of those things that's hard to remember when you've got a bunch of people around you who do have an idea of what they want. >
[Even if those people don't always have an idea of how to get to that destination, it's still a destination.]
< But sheesh... Twenty, huh? Hope it happens a little sooner for me. Who knows if I even have that long left. >
[Altius lets out a chuckle at his own expense. As much as he might "like" to reassure Dante of their continued survival... well. Who knows! He only has so much information about their situation. He won't be so presumptuous, but he can say this:]
I'm sure it will, if you're determined to make it happen. [He'll never deny it will take work, but so does anything worthwhile.] And I'll be glad to remind you anytime if you like.
[His smile fades slightly the moment after that. Their earlier apology, and the worry just now...]
I hope you understand all that truly wasn't your fault.
[A full set of medical supplies, noted. He holds a hand up as if to stop the thought of Dante walking about right now.]
You should be resting. Are you— [ah, wait, hm. No mouth...] Is there any pain medication you can use? Have you asked your medic to take a proper look at you?
[He's got a lot of practice with mother-hen mode recently, thanks to his injured and traumatized ward. The injury and trauma isn't his fault this time, but that doesn't mean his acting can't be effective!]
< I've had worse. And I've got a pretty good pain tolerance. >
[To put it lightly. Though from Altius's reaction, they're starting to wonder if they're in worse shape than they thought. Or maybe he's from one of those worlds that isn't used to this sort of thing?]
< Seriously, it's fine. It's not the first time I've hurt that shoulder, and this time it didn't even go all the way through. > [Everything's still attached, nothing lethal was hit, and the clock is still firmly on their shoulders. Nothing to worry about!] < But... I should probably talk to Yukina, shouldn't I? >
The look Altius fixes Dante with is one of some agitation, lips pressed together for a moment. He's putting on his lecturing hat.]
Yes, you should. [He's not a doctor himself, sure, but god has he had to read so much.]
Untreated pain hinders recovery, Dante. Trying to push through it will only make your wounds take longer to heal, and in the meantime you're still struggling. There's no point in avoiding what might make the process easier.
[He lets out a mild sigh through his nose and replies a little less forcefully:]
Yes, it does.
[Ultimately, the concern wins out over the stern demeanor. It's rare that he displays such direct forcefulness! Dante should be flattered, or something. Altius pulls out a small notepad from his pocket along with a pencil, jotting down a few notes.]
I'll see if I can't find you some local analgesic, along with the bandages. [Huh, he seems to be writing more than just that. He glances up.] How quickly are you used to healing?
< Pretty much immediately after getting back to the bus. Okay, not immediately immediately, but pretty close. And not for scratches and bruises either. >
[Not unless they were injured any worse and those happened to be healed along the way with the injection.]
[Which tells him that Dante really does not know how to take care of themselves, if just due to a lack of opportunity. He momentarily presses his lips together before making a few more notes.]
Alright. [He sounds accepting of the answer in a way that implies there's work ahead. He's not used to dispensing medical advice, but the surety in his tone might make that hard to guess:] For now, try to keep your injuries above the level of your heart. Ice packs can help with any swelling, but don't apply them directly to the skin. Hopefully Miss Yukina can help you with anything else.
[He closes his notebook and pauses before looking up, directly at Dante. If they had eyes to meet...]
[Sometimes not having eyes is a good thing: it means you don't have to meet others' eyes if you don't want to.]
< As good as I can be after all of that. >
[It's not the same sort of tension and exhaustion that tend to come with a mission involving a Golden Bough, but there are just enough similarities (and questions stemming from those similarities) to drag at them.
Or maybe their injuries are bothering them more than they thought.]
< Though, I feel like that's something I should be asking you. Aside from appearing here in the first place, this is the first time you've had to deal with something big happening in the simulation, isn't it? >
[At the question, he blinks like he's halfway to a flinch, and his eyes move just barely off of Dante's face—like the thought hadn't even occurred to him, perhaps. In one way, it's true: while the situation was certainly more obviously dire to everyone around him than any other he's been in, he'd had the resources and confidence to come out on the other side without trouble.
Not much of that makes sense for Altius, a man who up until now has supposedly only had one or two instances of violent trauma in his past, and certainly nothing supernatural. There's a lengthy silence as he seems to consider the question, in which he returns his notes to his pocket while taking a slow breath.]
It is, [he eventually says with a furrow in his brow.]
I've been moving from task to task. There hasn't been time to think about anything past that.
The silence is something familiar, but the movements leading up to it, and the words after... Maybe the whole thing just has them paranoid. Too much to think about. And too many things they'd rather not think about.]
< ...Sometimes it's the best way to handle it. Maybe not the healthiest, but you don't always get a choice. >
[Frankly, he's just not used to anybody asking him how he is. He's been the one in charge for so long, the one who asks everyone else how they are, the one who's always in control—or the one tearing it down, which hardly creates allies interested in your well being.
Funnily, it means he's out of his depth in this place, just in a different way than he tries to portray. Without a facial expression to judge, he merely takes Dante's momentary pause as appropriate to the difficult topic.]
I know it will catch up to me eventually, if we're granted any sort of peace after this, [he says with some resignation as he folds his arms.] So... I suppose I'll find out then just how well I'm handling it.
[Altius, at least, wouldn't pretend to be just fine in the face of all this, not after all the sorts of advice he gives to others. He turns his gaze back to Dante.]
It sounds as though this isn't the first such crisis you've been through, even outside of this place.
< You could say that. We have to deal with a lot of interesting situations thanks to my job, and home isn't exactly the best place out there to begin with. >
[Which is putting it lightly.]
< Believe it or not, this simulation, despite everything, is somehow... kinder? I'm not sure if that's the word I'm looking for. >
[He's getting the sense that "interesting" in this context means terrible and difficult. Between the mention of their prior injuries, the willingness to seek danger with their team, and the worries of being a horrible person should they recall their past, he would agree that it sounds distinctly not kind where they're from.]
I think I understand, [he replies, though he's not apparently happy to hear it, if the frown on his face is anything to go by.] I couldn't say the same compared my own, but... if you've found any reprieve here, I'm glad for that.
[All worlds are cruel in their own way, but some are more openly cruel than others, it seems.]
Are you usually given any time to recover? More than physically.
A company run only on unfettered cruelty, perhaps, [he says with a rare display of open disdain nearing anger, folding his arms. Maybe he's evil also, but he gives his employees proper sick leave options, damn it!
He doesn't have to ask to know this is just Dante's expectation of their world. But Dante isn't the target of his ire, so he turns his gaze to the wall.]
[They're not sure how to feel, hearing that from someone else. Not that it isn't nice. Of course it is. Nevermind what their doppelganger heard or said or thought, they know--they know--that there is something horribly wrong with the way things are back home.
But Altius's words don't quite hit the way they should. Because he's still such a new face, they suppose. How long had it been before the Bus Team had listened to them? How long did it take for them to finally step up and be the Manager they were supposed to be?
They don't know. But they do know this:]
< I don't know what specifically that thing may have said about my experiences, but I hope you haven't had to go through anything like them. And I'm sorry if you have. >
[Commiseration and and an apology in exchange for the one they've been given. However little it means, it's the best they have.]
[You wake up in a courtroom. You’re not really sure how you got here, just that you’re here. There’s Jerry, sitting at the judges box. For some he might be new, and others he might be familiar or semi-familiar. He scrutinizes you, and then motions to the jury box. There’s a plaque that’s sitting on the outside that says “Council”, but there’s no one sitting there. Everything looks clean and maintained, but there’s no one in the courtroom but you and Jerry.
Weird.]
You are charged with aimlessness. In order to repent and further your rehabilitation, you have been tasked to show remorse for your crime by finding worth for yourself and a direction to live life in. You must find a goal to work towards during your time in Aldrip. If there is no action taken, there will be consequences.
[Jerry blinks down at you, fingers threading together as he looks down from the judges’ box.]
How do you plead?
[ooc: you have until May 9th to submit your Sentencing HERE Even if your character doesn’t proceed with the Sentencing, you must comment on the NPC inbox for your penalty.
Also, there are effects for ignoring this Sentencing. The longer that Dante takes to complete their Sentencing, the more melancholy and apathetic they may get. They may even find themself finding it difficult to find entertainment in things that usually entertain them. If you have any questions about Sentencing, please let us know!
Jerry is interactive at this point, but we wanted to make sure you got your information in hand if you'd like to start plotting for your Sentencing!]
[Ah. So it's an accurate simulation of bureaucracy.]
< So why doesn't your superior come here themself? And why give us the chance to plead our case now? I thought everyone was declared guilty the moment they got here. >
[A slightly-angled nod. It makes sense, especially given what they know about the AI so far.
That said, it's probably better to keep what they know about the AI close to their chest. The best case scenario is pretty useless and the worst? Not really something they want to dwell on.]
< Okay... Then why take people from their own worlds and bring them here? A crime is a crime from your point of view, I get that, but kidnapping seems a little extreme. >
[Their ticking grows slightly sharper with irritation.]
< Okay, fine, they don't see it as kidnapping. But that doesn't change that that's what it is. I know that there are some... exceptions to this question-- > [Primarily in the form of those who died before ending up here] < --but what's there to say that the people who ended up here couldn't have been "rehabilitated" in their own worlds? Why us? What's going on? >
[The ticking becomes quicker and quicker as they speak, irritation giving way to a frustration that's been building with every part of them unwillingly exposed]
We have no ability to save them preemptively in the way you're describing. We have limited functions on what we can do with the Chosen that're brought here.
[...It's not all that different from what they're doing back home in a way. At least in method. The desires behind this simulation and Limbus Company's own goals on the other hand... Those are probably like night and day.
Still, acknowledging the similarities doesn't make them any happier about it.]
< I guess forcing us to talk and act in ways we don't want is one way of doing that. >
[An unfair bit of sarcasm on their part perhaps, given how not every world has magical glowing not-quite-trees just sitting around waiting to be interacted with, but a feeling they express nonetheless.]
[Someone smarter than they are, more savvy than they are, might know the right questions to ask, but they themselves have run out. Besides, there's no point in arguing. It's not like an AI programmed to run this place (or any of its creations) is going to change its mind anyway.]
[Altius's recovery from transformation a few months ago, while painful, was an incredibly quick endeavor thanks to the help of certain Chosen. His recovery from his venom-induced sickness, meanwhile, was no easy thing. Even if said Chosen still had been here, he wonders if their treatment would have touched his illness, when his own healing couldn't do anything to it.
The week he was in the clinic, he let himself fully focus on survival rather than worrying over whatever might have been going on around the city or on his tablet. He didn't have enough energy to be a busybody anyway—and for much of that time he wasn't even conscious enough to think about it.
He's out of it now, at least; had the chance to go home, freshen up, almost completely back to his sturdy self. And even though he could be going through all his businesses and endeavors and responding to any of the messages he might have gotten in the meantime, his thoughts only go to one thing.
Zekarion isn't sure why he's going through with this, allowing his selfishness to take charge. He could ignore it—they both could—and he'd lose nothing of practical worth. The offer of that healing syringe proved that to him well enough.
[Their tablet beeping at them takes Dante by surprise, but the moment they're able to get to it and see who it's from, their reply can't come any quicker.]
Of course. Your place? IDK how you're feeling right now.
[He must have worried them, for how fast the response was. He'll have to make up for that.]
I'm doing well, but that sounds perfect. I'll leave the door open for you.
[His house is hardly more than a studio apartment standing as its own building, and he hasn't bothered to furnish it with anything other than the practical things for daily living, but it is his alone, private and quiet. He waits seated at the tiny bar of his kitchen, fingers threaded together and cheek resting against them, facing the door.]
[Even after knowing him for awhile, Dante doesn't feel entirely comfortable letting themselves in unannounced, and so they rap their knuckles against the door a couple of times and wait a beat before they enter.
And so it doesn't startle them when they open the door to find Altius already looking in their direction, though they take the time to look him over once the door is shut behind them.]
< You really are doing a lot better. Good to see you in better health. >
[Their shoulders relax once the words are out. Seems it had been quite the concern for them on the way here.]
[The only real indication that he was sick at all now is the slightly lower energy he allows himself in his demeanor. That and perhaps the fine layer of the week's dust he hasn't gotten around to cleaning.
Altius isn't dressed for business, but he certainly seems to be dressed for something, the button-up and slacks rougher in texture but more than what most people would consider for a casual outing, let alone lounging at home. He also happens to be wearing his cologne—not out of the ordinary for him by any means, but it might cement the impression he wasn't just planning to rest here by himself.
He smiles slightly at them when they enter, as they both examine each other.]
I'm sorry to have worried you. I admit I was worried myself, for a little while.
[He turns to properly face them as if to display his improved health, though, and gestures to the seat beside him.]
But that's over now, thankfully. You've been alright since I last saw you?
< Well enough. Keeping an eye out for any snakes that stuck around, but I haven't seen any yet. >
[Has he been out recently? He looks as if he has, dressed like that. Whatever the occasion is, it does look nice on him, they have to admit.
They follow his lead, taking the seat next to him.]
< But really, I'm doing fine. Taking advantage of the downtime to see about moving back out of the inn. Feel like I've been imposing enough, you know? >
[They rest their clock in their hand as they look around the kitchen, into the rest of the small building.]
< Something small like this wouldn't be half bad. >
[He keeps his eyes on Dante as they look around. One bedroom, one bathroom, a small living area. Altius doesn't need any more than that; he hasn't exactly been entertaining anyone.]
I've certainly had no complaints about these, especially given the lack of cost. I've never wanted to take up much space.
[His penthouse had been convenient, had impressed the people he needed to be impressed. It's much simpler in this world, without those sorts of politics involved.
He thinks of reassuring Dante that they're not an imposition... but he gets another idea.]
... you know, I had thought of inviting you to stay with me, when you told me your home was destroyed. Unfortunately my own at the time was just as much a wreck as yours—so the inn was the best I could think of.
They look over at him, then back out at the home. It's such a small place, obviously not meant for too many people to stay. Sure, they don't need all that much themselves (what are they going to need with the kitchen or the bedroom?) but--]
< You're... Are you sure? >
[--but the offer is more tempting than it should be.]
[He sounds more certain than he feels, funnily enough; for all that he's honed his false confidence to the point it's become real, he still has his moments of trepidation. But the chance of seeing them at the end of the day, every day, is too much to pass up.
He moves his hand to rest on their shoulder, his tone as smooth as it's ever been, gaze intent on their face.]
[Their chest tightens, and for the briefest moment their hour hand quivers in place. As their gaze meets his, they find it difficult to break away. They can't think of a reason why they might want to.]
< You have? >
[The words fall from them clumsily, a tick that stumbles over a tock, a gear that turns with a bit more force than usual.
They feel as if they should say something more. They feel as if they've never spoken a word in their life.]
[A few chuckles leave him, adding a flash of his teeth in the smile. He wonders if it's really that much of a surprise or if it's just their inexperience in the reaction.]
I have so many questions for you. Things I want to know about you.
[The hand on their shoulder slides upwards to their neck, thumb settling along the red casing around their face like he might if it were their jaw. His voice grows quieter as he leans a bit closer.]
Don't you think we've been dancing around it for long enough?
[Skin against skin. His hand and their neck. It's a sensation they're unused to, and they can feel the goosebumps rise on their arms.
Their first instinct is to ask him if he's sure. They know how much they stand out, how many people, even here, see them and automatically assume they aren't human. But Altius has never made him feel anything less. He's been there. He's reached out to them. He's offered his hand. And now...]
< I can't promise you I can answer all of them. > [The gears continue to turn and whir with more force than usual, but the ticking itself remains steady. Soft, despite everything going on within.] < Hard to answer things I don't even know about myself, after all. >
[Though the smile remains, his gaze flickers downwards half an inch for the briefest moment. How strange it is, the warmth he feels to hear it said aloud—as if he wasn't certain. As if he would have called them here if he couldn't be sure of the outcome. He can feel his pulse racing all the same, and his other hand moves to just above their heart, drawn there for him to know if theirs is moving just as quickly.]
We can find the rest out together. [His thumb sweeps across to their face, to draw attention to the space where their mouth might have been.] Maybe the first we can answer is... if you'd enjoy it if I kissed you.
[It practically leaps from their rib cage into his hand at the question. They can't feel the movements of his hand across the face of their clock, a bit of pressure noted by the mechanisms within, perhaps, but nothing quite so solid as the way his hand felt along the back of their neck.
Even so, they incline their head, nodding.]
< I don't know. Think we should give it a try? >
[Even if they can't feel it, to know how it feels at all, from him specifically...
[He might have felt ridiculous for this, once upon a time. There's certainly a level of it that doesn't escape him now, even if it's largely drowned out by his desire.]
I think so, [he murmurs.
None of this will matter, in the end; they'll both return home, likely with no memory of their experiences here. Even if they did remember, it won't change their fates; Onyx will continue his crusade of destruction as he must, and Dante will suffer a thousand more deaths before they meet their end.
A shadow flickers under the hand on Dante's shoulder, as if threatening to overtake their coat—and in less than a second it's gone, like it had never been there at all.
The truth is that he wants this, however pointless or absurd it may be. His exhale fogs the surface of their face before he presses his lips against them, eyes closing to take in every other sensation he can. The hand against the clock's casing moves to the back of their head as if to thread his fingers through their flames—what that must feel like is another answer he's wanted.]
[Up close, those rhythmic, mechanical sounds almost resemble a heartbeat. Steady, yet somehow insistent. Fire dances through Altius's fingers, warmer than the surrounding air, yet nowhere near the blaze its appearance might imply. Thinner than water, more substantial than air, a breeze without movement.
What would the others think if they were to see them now, they wonder? Is this moment even something the company would allow them to have?
Nothing more than a fleeting thought. They can be selfish this once. Just once. They can have this until they have to return.
Their hand slips from their chest to his back, and when Altius finally pulls away they duck their head, resting the top rim of the clock against his shoulder.]
[For all the lack of flesh and blood, it's a fascinating set of feelings he can't help but adore because of its source. Like a puzzle he has to put together, learning how it feels to be with someone for the first time all over again. There's a thrill to the newness of it, how all the little pieces slide into place.
When Dante moves to rest against him, he wraps his arms around them, leaning the side of his own head against theirs as he remains silent for a few moments, taking it all in. What this means to him, what it must mean to them. How he might get to keep doing this and more. How much he'd like to show them.
He trails his fingers up and down their back in a slow path. Then:]
[The nonchalant dry humor they're trying would have actually made him laugh by itself, this time, but not as much as their last remark does; a few escape him, almost sharp but still good humored. He hasn't been thanked for being with someone before.]
If that's how it is, it's only fair I thank you in return—just this once. For letting me share this with you.
[Despite all the mystery that surrounds them, intentionally and not, they've reached out to him in ways he couldn't have anticipated. He wonders when that started, really...]
I'm looking forward to that trying. Next time perhaps we can add something new.
[Altius lets out a hum of acknowledgement—a wordless promise to make it happen. He still has so many thoughts and questions he wants to answer, to find out all the little things they might like.
Like Dante, he allows himself to savor the closeness, his breaths deep and slow as he commits the experience to memory.
But eventually, he comes back to Earth, so to speak. Back to more practical matters.]
[Although they separate themselves from each other, he still stays close enough for their shoulders to nearly touch, resting his chin against his fingers as he listens, elbow against the bar.]
I'm sure we can manage it. [It's convenient. He wonders how used to living with a small number of belongings they are... are they even allowed much, back home? His pleasant expression fades slightly at the thought of it, but that doesn't last. Besides, he's just thought of something. His eyebrows rise, but then they come down again as he follows the idea.]
—hm, no, it would probably be simpler if we just made an extra trip, if we can't. But did I tell you I've been learning to ride a horse?
[He tilts his head in a slight shrug—not a yes, not a no.]
It would be simpler to just call a carriage in this case, I think. I'd have to make sure it's amenable to the extra weight and learn how to secure that in addition to the rest I'm still working on.
[Not that he wouldn't put in the effort, especially for Dante, but it would probably be overboard for no good reason, just to move them out of the inn to this house.]
Still, it might be worth thinking about in the future. It would be good to know for emergent situations, or places the locals aren't willing to go.
[He wonders why he even felt the need to say it aloud, brought up the topic when he already put it aside as largely pointless. It's unusual for him, just speaking without regard for the practicality...]
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The lack of communication available during the dark hour highlighted further how much Altius had relied on phones back in his own world; the tablet's lack of access to the locals was enough of an obstacle, but having all avenues other than physical meetings cut off had markedly limited his ability to keep an eye on the other Chosen and any developments they might have found. Suffice to say he didn't like it.
Dante was a part of those he'd wanted to track down, but between his exploration of the dangerous city for supplies and his own purposes, he hadn't ended up tracking the other down. Rather than immediately return to the network to contact Dante, he decided to dedicate his efforts to finding them in person. He wanted to have a conversation he was fairly sure they wouldn't want to be recorded, anyway.
However it is that he finally lays eyes on that clock again, it will be with a look of some tension, as if he's been holding on to some concern. The past week hasn't been kind to any of them, anyway.]
no subject
[It's the only thing they can say to a look like that. They can only assume it's due to the way they flinch when they move just so, or the way they're a little slower getting around their office.
It's neither the worst pain they've been in nor the worst injury they've had--not even close--but it's not like Altius knows that.]
no subject
I hope you'll understand if that doesn't entirely reassure me... but it's good to see you.
[He lets out a brief breath, cutting out his usual small talk for a more direct manner. This is more serious than a business matter, anyway, and his tone makes that clear.]
Do you have time to talk?
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< Thanks. I'm glad you managed to get out of all that unscathed, at least. >
[A pause and a tilt of the head as Altius continues]
< Um... sure. Everything okay? >
no subject
[
and he still has the potential of an injury in one instance but listen. healing magic is so overpowered.]But I came across— [he pauses for effect, though there's an uncertain furrow to his brow.] —a doppelganger of yours, I believe. It had some strange things to say.
[His tone lends significant negative weight to the statement. It wasn't a meeting he enjoyed.]
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< Yeah, I had the pleasure of meeting it too. Gave me my "souvenir" for the night. >
[And given what Yuri had to deal with, they can only imagine what what Altius had to hear.]
< Sorry if it bothered you. I didn't even think about having one of my own until it was on me. >
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It injured you and you're concerned about it "bothering" me? [Half under his breath as he folds his arms:] I should have tried harder to find you...
[To warn Dante, is the implication of his guilty mutter. Altius shakes his head after a moment.]
All it did was speak to me. I only thought you should know what it said; things about lost experiences and fears of regaining them.
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They heave a heavy, breathless sigh, shoulders rising and falling.]
< ...It exaggerated. I may be an amnesiac, but I'm not as worried about what my memories hold as it made me out to be. Though I can't say I'm happy about people knowing about my memory to begin with... >
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I understand. What you do or don't feel about anything in your mind is a personal matter.
[I'm going to say he's moved inside at this point because the last thing he'd want is for the winter air to make Dante's injuries more uncomfortable. Between showing concern for their physical well being and offering without prompting what secrets the copy shared, he hopes to build trust.]
It also spoke of an aimlessness that came with that lack of memory. [He's not looking directly at Dante, partly to not pressure them into giving any answers; he's not here to ask direct questions about their inner doubts, as much as he might like to learn them. So, to give them an out:] But the way it acted made it clear it wasn't truly you.
[He turns to look at them again with a breath let out through his nose.]
I'm sorry you had to experience that.
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[They've already mentioned it over the network once.]
< It's hard to think of what you want to do with your life when you only remember about a year of it. >
[That he's so convinced their doppelganger ultimately wasn't them... It helps. The threats it made, and the things it said... All exaggeration, nothing more.]
< Just making sure, but it didn't do anything to you, did it? I know you said it just spoke to you, but... No threats? Nothing like that? >
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[And it certainly would have been a problem if he had, but neither of the Dantes could really know that.]
But I'll tell you what I said then: it's alright to be uncertain. One year is a very short time to learn about yourself and what you want. [He gestures casually with one hand.] It took me nearly twenty of them.
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< I know that, I do. Just one of those things that's hard to remember when you've got a bunch of people around you who do have an idea of what they want. >
[Even if those people don't always have an idea of how to get to that destination, it's still a destination.]
< But sheesh... Twenty, huh? Hope it happens a little sooner for me. Who knows if I even have that long left. >
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I'm sure it will, if you're determined to make it happen. [He'll never deny it will take work, but so does anything worthwhile.] And I'll be glad to remind you anytime if you like.
[His smile fades slightly the moment after that. Their earlier apology, and the worry just now...]
I hope you understand all that truly wasn't your fault.
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It's a strange yet welcome feeling, and one they aren't sure what to do with.]
< Well... Whether it was or wasn't, there's not much I can do about it now. Good thing I can't really do much to hurt anyone. >
[...Not personally, anyway.]
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But for now he's frowning. Not only did Dante not agree, but there's this idea of fearing themselves hurting others?]
And yet you were hurt, yourself. Is there anything I can do for you, Dante? Any errands to run?
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< Some extra bandages, maybe? >
[They really were spoiled with all those ampules from K Corp, weren't they? Waiting for these to heal is going to be such a pain.]
< You don't have to though, really. I can still go get them if I need to. >
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You should be resting. Are you— [ah, wait, hm. No mouth...] Is there any pain medication you can use? Have you asked your medic to take a proper look at you?
[He's got a lot of practice with mother-hen mode recently, thanks to his injured and traumatized ward. The injury and trauma isn't his fault this time, but that doesn't mean his acting can't be effective!]
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[To put it lightly. Though from Altius's reaction, they're starting to wonder if they're in worse shape than they thought. Or maybe he's from one of those worlds that isn't used to this sort of thing?]
< Seriously, it's fine. It's not the first time I've hurt that shoulder, and this time it didn't even go all the way through. > [Everything's still attached, nothing lethal was hit, and the clock is still firmly on their shoulders. Nothing to worry about!] < But... I should probably talk to Yukina, shouldn't I? >
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The look Altius fixes Dante with is one of some agitation, lips pressed together for a moment. He's putting on his lecturing hat.]
Yes, you should. [He's not a doctor himself, sure, but god has he had to read so much.]
Untreated pain hinders recovery, Dante. Trying to push through it will only make your wounds take longer to heal, and in the meantime you're still struggling. There's no point in avoiding what might make the process easier.
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[They shrink slightly, from both the look they're being pinned with and the scolding.]
< I guess I'm too used to the technology from back home... >
[Even after everything, they couldn't deny how helpful the ampules from K Corp could be.]
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Yes, it does.
[Ultimately, the concern wins out over the stern demeanor. It's rare that he displays such direct forcefulness! Dante should be flattered, or something. Altius pulls out a small notepad from his pocket along with a pencil, jotting down a few notes.]
I'll see if I can't find you some local analgesic, along with the bandages. [Huh, he seems to be writing more than just that. He glances up.] How quickly are you used to healing?
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[Not unless they were injured any worse and those happened to be healed along the way with the injection.]
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Alright. [He sounds accepting of the answer in a way that implies there's work ahead. He's not used to dispensing medical advice, but the surety in his tone might make that hard to guess:] For now, try to keep your injuries above the level of your heart. Ice packs can help with any swelling, but don't apply them directly to the skin. Hopefully Miss Yukina can help you with anything else.
[He closes his notebook and pauses before looking up, directly at Dante. If they had eyes to meet...]
... How are you faring? Other than the physical.
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< As good as I can be after all of that. >
[It's not the same sort of tension and exhaustion that tend to come with a mission involving a Golden Bough, but there are just enough similarities (and questions stemming from those similarities) to drag at them.
Or maybe their injuries are bothering them more than they thought.]
< Though, I feel like that's something I should be asking you. Aside from appearing here in the first place, this is the first time you've had to deal with something big happening in the simulation, isn't it? >
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Not much of that makes sense for Altius, a man who up until now has supposedly only had one or two instances of violent trauma in his past, and certainly nothing supernatural. There's a lengthy silence as he seems to consider the question, in which he returns his notes to his pocket while taking a slow breath.]
It is, [he eventually says with a furrow in his brow.]
I've been moving from task to task. There hasn't been time to think about anything past that.
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Something doesn't sit right.
The silence is something familiar, but the movements leading up to it, and the words after... Maybe the whole thing just has them paranoid. Too much to think about. And too many things they'd rather not think about.]
< ...Sometimes it's the best way to handle it. Maybe not the healthiest, but you don't always get a choice. >
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Funnily, it means he's out of his depth in this place, just in a different way than he tries to portray. Without a facial expression to judge, he merely takes Dante's momentary pause as appropriate to the difficult topic.]
I know it will catch up to me eventually, if we're granted any sort of peace after this, [he says with some resignation as he folds his arms.] So... I suppose I'll find out then just how well I'm handling it.
[Altius, at least, wouldn't pretend to be just fine in the face of all this, not after all the sorts of advice he gives to others. He turns his gaze back to Dante.]
It sounds as though this isn't the first such crisis you've been through, even outside of this place.
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[Which is putting it lightly.]
< Believe it or not, this simulation, despite everything, is somehow... kinder? I'm not sure if that's the word I'm looking for. >
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I think I understand, [he replies, though he's not apparently happy to hear it, if the frown on his face is anything to go by.] I couldn't say the same compared my own, but... if you've found any reprieve here, I'm glad for that.
[All worlds are cruel in their own way, but some are more openly cruel than others, it seems.]
Are you usually given any time to recover? More than physically.
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< There might be a couple days of downtime while reports are written up? But other than that, no, not really. >
[Even on the Great Lake, with no real mission in hand until they returned to land, there had always been something to do.]
< It's a company, though, so that much is to be expected. >
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He doesn't have to ask to know this is just Dante's expectation of their world. But Dante isn't the target of his ire, so he turns his gaze to the wall.]
I'm sorry to hear it. You deserve better.
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But Altius's words don't quite hit the way they should. Because he's still such a new face, they suppose. How long had it been before the Bus Team had listened to them? How long did it take for them to finally step up and be the Manager they were supposed to be?
They don't know. But they do know this:]
< I don't know what specifically that thing may have said about my experiences, but I hope you haven't had to go through anything like them. And I'm sorry if you have. >
[Commiseration and and an apology in exchange for the one they've been given. However little it means, it's the best they have.]
SENTENCING
Weird.]
You are charged with aimlessness. In order to repent and further your rehabilitation, you have been tasked to show remorse for your crime by finding worth for yourself and a direction to live life in. You must find a goal to work towards during your time in Aldrip. If there is no action taken, there will be consequences.
[Jerry blinks down at you, fingers threading together as he looks down from the judges’ box.]
How do you plead?
[ooc: you have until May 9th to submit your Sentencing HERE Even if your character doesn’t proceed with the Sentencing, you must comment on the NPC inbox for your penalty.
Also, there are effects for ignoring this Sentencing. The longer that Dante takes to complete their Sentencing, the more melancholy and apathetic they may get. They may even find themself finding it difficult to find entertainment in things that usually entertain them. If you have any questions about Sentencing, please let us know!
Jerry is interactive at this point, but we wanted to make sure you got your information in hand if you'd like to start plotting for your Sentencing!]
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< More than a little confused, to be honest. It's not that I think you're wrong, but... Is not knowing what you want really a crime? >
[It seems a little unfair to ask of a person who only has a year and a half of memories.]
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I have no opinions on what the crimes of others are. I only communicate what my superior would like to pass on to you.
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< So why doesn't your superior come here themself? And why give us the chance to plead our case now? I thought everyone was declared guilty the moment they got here. >
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[his superior would love to talk to them, though.]
They believe that they learn something from encounters like these. They are... interested in what the Chosen have to say for themselves.
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[A slightly-angled nod. It makes sense, especially given what they know about the AI so far.
That said, it's probably better to keep what they know about the AI close to their chest.
The best case scenario is pretty useless and the worst? Not really something they want to dwell on.]
< Okay... Then why take people from their own worlds and bring them here? A crime is a crime from your point of view, I get that, but kidnapping seems a little extreme. >
[Especially with some people claiming to be dead]
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[there's a beat.]
They do not see it as "kidnapping".
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< Okay, fine, they don't see it as kidnapping. But that doesn't change that that's what it is. I know that there are some... exceptions to this question-- > [Primarily in the form of those who died before ending up here] < --but what's there to say that the people who ended up here couldn't have been "rehabilitated" in their own worlds? Why us? What's going on? >
[The ticking becomes quicker and quicker as they speak, irritation giving way to a frustration that's been building with every part of them unwillingly exposed]
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I don't have the ability to tell you how the selections are made. That is something even I don't know.
[not privy to everything!!]
We are also learning with each cycle. We are learning, and some Chosen here have advanced through their list of crimes as well.
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< And the ones from the previous cycles? The ones who can't go back home or repent for anything anymore? >
[The ones who became part of the simulation itself]
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They were saved in the only way my superior knew how. There were some cycles that were beyond saving, however.
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[What does that mean for the rest of them here now?]
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< So then what does rehabilitation mean here? >
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You grow past your crimes, and become a better person when we send you back.
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Still, acknowledging the similarities doesn't make them any happier about it.]
< I guess forcing us to talk and act in ways we don't want is one way of doing that. >
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[that sounds ominous.]
How else will some of you face your ways?
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[An unfair bit of sarcasm on their part perhaps, given how not every world has magical glowing not-quite-trees just sitting around waiting to be interacted with, but a feeling they express nonetheless.]
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Are you finished with your questions?
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< Yeah. I've heard enough. >
[Someone smarter than they are, more savvy than they are, might know the right questions to ask, but they themselves have run out. Besides, there's no point in arguing. It's not like an AI programmed to run this place (or any of its creations) is going to change its mind anyway.]
end of May - text; un: altius
The week he was in the clinic, he let himself fully focus on survival rather than worrying over whatever might have been going on around the city or on his tablet. He didn't have enough energy to be a busybody anyway—and for much of that time he wasn't even conscious enough to think about it.
He's out of it now, at least; had the chance to go home, freshen up, almost completely back to his sturdy self. And even though he could be going through all his businesses and endeavors and responding to any of the messages he might have gotten in the meantime, his thoughts only go to one thing.
Zekarion isn't sure why he's going through with this, allowing his selfishness to take charge. He could ignore it—they both could—and he'd lose nothing of practical worth. The offer of that healing syringe proved that to him well enough.
He sends Dante a message.]
Are you free to meet?
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Of course. Your place? IDK how you're feeling right now.
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I'm doing well, but that sounds perfect. I'll leave the door open for you.
[His house is hardly more than a studio apartment standing as its own building, and he hasn't bothered to furnish it with anything other than the practical things for daily living, but it is his alone, private and quiet. He waits seated at the tiny bar of his kitchen, fingers threaded together and cheek resting against them, facing the door.]
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And so it doesn't startle them when they open the door to find Altius already looking in their direction, though they take the time to look him over once the door is shut behind them.]
< You really are doing a lot better. Good to see you in better health. >
[Their shoulders relax once the words are out. Seems it had been quite the concern for them on the way here.]
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Altius isn't dressed for business, but he certainly seems to be dressed for something, the button-up and slacks rougher in texture but more than what most people would consider for a casual outing, let alone lounging at home. He also happens to be wearing his cologne—not out of the ordinary for him by any means, but it might cement the impression he wasn't just planning to rest here by himself.
He smiles slightly at them when they enter, as they both examine each other.]
I'm sorry to have worried you. I admit I was worried myself, for a little while.
[He turns to properly face them as if to display his improved health, though, and gestures to the seat beside him.]
But that's over now, thankfully. You've been alright since I last saw you?
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[Has he been out recently? He looks as if he has, dressed like that. Whatever the occasion is, it does look nice on him, they have to admit.
They follow his lead, taking the seat next to him.]
< But really, I'm doing fine. Taking advantage of the downtime to see about moving back out of the inn. Feel like I've been imposing enough, you know? >
[They rest their clock in their hand as they look around the kitchen, into the rest of the small building.]
< Something small like this wouldn't be half bad. >
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I've certainly had no complaints about these, especially given the lack of cost. I've never wanted to take up much space.
[His penthouse had been convenient, had impressed the people he needed to be impressed. It's much simpler in this world, without those sorts of politics involved.
He thinks of reassuring Dante that they're not an imposition... but he gets another idea.]
... you know, I had thought of inviting you to stay with me, when you told me your home was destroyed. Unfortunately my own at the time was just as much a wreck as yours—so the inn was the best I could think of.
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[Wait. Is he... implying what they think he is?
They look over at him, then back out at the home. It's such a small place, obviously not meant for too many people to stay. Sure, they don't need all that much themselves (what are they going to need with the kitchen or the bedroom?) but--]
< You're... Are you sure? >
[--but the offer is more tempting than it should be.]
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[He sounds more certain than he feels, funnily enough; for all that he's honed his false confidence to the point it's become real, he still has his moments of trepidation. But the chance of seeing them at the end of the day, every day, is too much to pass up.
He moves his hand to rest on their shoulder, his tone as smooth as it's ever been, gaze intent on their face.]
I've been thinking about you often lately.
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< You have? >
[The words fall from them clumsily, a tick that stumbles over a tock, a gear that turns with a bit more force than usual.
They feel as if they should say something more. They feel as if they've never spoken a word in their life.]
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I have so many questions for you. Things I want to know about you.
[The hand on their shoulder slides upwards to their neck, thumb settling along the red casing around their face like he might if it were their jaw. His voice grows quieter as he leans a bit closer.]
Don't you think we've been dancing around it for long enough?
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Their first instinct is to ask him if he's sure. They know how much they stand out, how many people, even here, see them and automatically assume they aren't human. But Altius has never made him feel anything less. He's been there. He's reached out to them. He's offered his hand. And now...]
< I can't promise you I can answer all of them. > [The gears continue to turn and whir with more force than usual, but the ticking itself remains steady. Soft, despite everything going on within.] < Hard to answer things I don't even know about myself, after all. >
< But... I'd like to be with you too. >
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We can find the rest out together. [His thumb sweeps across to their face, to draw attention to the space where their mouth might have been.] Maybe the first we can answer is... if you'd enjoy it if I kissed you.
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Even so, they incline their head, nodding.]
< I don't know. Think we should give it a try? >
[Even if they can't feel it, to know how it feels at all, from him specifically...
It's something they've wondered for awhile.]
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I think so, [he murmurs.
None of this will matter, in the end; they'll both return home, likely with no memory of their experiences here. Even if they did remember, it won't change their fates; Onyx will continue his crusade of destruction as he must, and Dante will suffer a thousand more deaths before they meet their end.
A shadow flickers under the hand on Dante's shoulder, as if threatening to overtake their coat—and in less than a second it's gone, like it had never been there at all.
The truth is that he wants this, however pointless or absurd it may be. His exhale fogs the surface of their face before he presses his lips against them, eyes closing to take in every other sensation he can. The hand against the clock's casing moves to the back of their head as if to thread his fingers through their flames—what that must feel like is another answer he's wanted.]
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What would the others think if they were to see them now, they wonder? Is this moment even something the company would allow them to have?
Nothing more than a fleeting thought. They can be selfish this once. Just once. They can have this until they have to return.
Their hand slips from their chest to his back, and when Altius finally pulls away they duck their head, resting the top rim of the clock against his shoulder.]
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When Dante moves to rest against him, he wraps his arms around them, leaning the side of his own head against theirs as he remains silent for a few moments, taking it all in. What this means to him, what it must mean to them. How he might get to keep doing this and more. How much he'd like to show them.
He trails his fingers up and down their back in a slow path. Then:]
Well... what do you think?
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[The feeling of being wanted that way, his warm body so close to their own... They'll "test" it as many times as it takes.]
< Thank you. >
[They don't know what else to say, even if the statement feels completely ridiculous the moment it's expressed.]
< ...I'm not even sure what I'm thanking you for. >
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If that's how it is, it's only fair I thank you in return—just this once. For letting me share this with you.
[Despite all the mystery that surrounds them, intentionally and not, they've reached out to him in ways he couldn't have anticipated. He wonders when that started, really...]
I'm looking forward to that trying. Next time perhaps we can add something new.
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What sort of expression would they be making right now if they had a proper face, they wonder?]
< I'd like that. >
[Someday, when they can bring themselves to let go of him, maybe.]
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Like Dante, he allows himself to savor the closeness, his breaths deep and slow as he commits the experience to memory.
But eventually, he comes back to Earth, so to speak. Back to more practical matters.]
... Do you have much to move?
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[A few extra outfits they picked up after their old house was destroyed, their card binder, their gun, a few extra things here and there.
They let go of him, albeit reluctantly, and lean on the counter, folding their arms]
< More than what I had when I first went to the inn, but nothing that won't fit in a few boxes. Might even just be one trip if we both go. >
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I'm sure we can manage it. [It's convenient. He wonders how used to living with a small number of belongings they are... are they even allowed much, back home? His pleasant expression fades slightly at the thought of it, but that doesn't last. Besides, he's just thought of something. His eyebrows rise, but then they come down again as he follows the idea.]
—hm, no, it would probably be simpler if we just made an extra trip, if we can't. But did I tell you I've been learning to ride a horse?
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[A horse... For some reason the thought leaves them a little uneasy, even though it's just another animal]
< Thinking of using one to carry things for us? >
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It would be simpler to just call a carriage in this case, I think. I'd have to make sure it's amenable to the extra weight and learn how to secure that in addition to the rest I'm still working on.
[Not that he wouldn't put in the effort, especially for Dante, but it would probably be overboard for no good reason, just to move them out of the inn to this house.]
Still, it might be worth thinking about in the future. It would be good to know for emergent situations, or places the locals aren't willing to go.
[He wonders why he even felt the need to say it aloud, brought up the topic when he already put it aside as largely pointless. It's unusual for him, just speaking without regard for the practicality...]
Are you very familiar with them?
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[And technically the latter was either seen through someone else's memories or looked more like it came off a carousel.]
< Which... most people wouldn't. They belonged to other people too, not to me. >