[WHAT THE FCK IS THIS CHOICE OF WORDING. Well it's fine because you know what else is pitiful, being kidnapped into the memshare void and having this spat out.]
famine watches through the memory, frowning faintly and then more deeply as it plays out. to be denied medical care again and again. to reach for an "easy" option, even though it is also the cruel one. two children suffering is no strange story. it is not unfamiliar.
it is not unfamiliar at all.
famine's judgment is decisive and immediate. they cross their arms. their voice drips with disdain. ]
Idiots... That's not what my technology was meant to do.
[Wow reliving memories is almost as terrible as experiencing other people's equally bad memories WHY IS NO ONE IN THIS BAR HAVING A GOOD TIME. HE'S TIRED. EVERYONE IS SO DEPRESSED INCLUDING HIMSELF.
That said, he's plucked out of any wallowing he might have fallen into or any weird spirals because Famine's just out here saying words for sport. The way his gaze snaps from just kind of staring into the middle distance to them is like a fucking laser-guided sight.]
For someone so skilled at fooling others, I thought you'd be quicker at picking up on dual identities. Though I don't think I even try as hard as you do to hide.
[ perhaps it's because they're not very good at it? or. ]
Well. I don't believe you're going to like this.
[ because the void welcomes him back
For Lucas, it’s perhaps something like seeing a dog in the mirror.
A young man with fine, golden hair and crimson-stained hands crumples to the floor. His breathing comes unevenly, eyes bloodshot, and shoulders straining with every shaking breath. You don’t know him.
You don’t have to. His reputation precedes him. A midnight black coat, hood fallen around his shoulders to reveal his damp, sweaty, lovely face. Who would have guessed that the infamous Bourreau would have a frame so slight? Yet there is no mistaking it: in front of you, an executioner falls apart before his halberd can find its next victim.
On the floor of the Claude manor, he speaks to himself. Or perhaps to some higher power. Someone. Anyone. His voice is as fragile as a butterfly’s wing, still desperately trying to flutter.
“Heh... Why...? What is right, and what is wrong... I don’t know anymore...” His halberd falls to the floor, and his voice drops to a whisper. “Someone, please help...”
You see the opportunity for what it is. You stride forward. “Who is it?”
“Huh...?” The killer startles, those bright, bright blue eyes trying to find the voice despite the fact that with every step, you walk closer.
“Don’t make me repeat myself.” You’d rather not waste time. Your voice is demanding as it ever is, uncaring of the fact that this individual was seeking to kill you just hours before. “I’m asking who it is you want to save. Is it you or someone else?”
“Huh? I...”
Slow, this one. All the same, you don’t wish to be mistaken for an altruist or a saint. You are neither, and never have been. To save people is simply incidental.
“I have no reason to help a killer, but at the same time, I don’t want to be reduced to a lump of flesh,” you explain pragmatically. “I can consider offering you help if you come to our side.”
Lucas’s hollow eyes shook as a gasp escaped him. Every word left him in slow, desperate trickles. “Please... help... My young sister... Nadia... has an incurable disease...”
Covered in blood, he bows his head down to you. A devout worshiper at the feet of a god among men.
You kneel to meet him, descending to his level. “Raise your head,” you say, and catch his chin to examine his state.
Lucas’s eyes are unfocused, and he obviously stammers through his speech. It was immediately telling that he wasn’t in his right mind. You come to a quick conclusion: ‘Brainwashed and hypnotized... His eyes are dilated, so I can only assume he’s been badly drugged.’
Lucas was only able to speak by pushing through the last of his sanity.
“Ceres... That young man’s words... I... I couldn’t... give up after hearing them... I... I... I still have much to show and teach my precious younger sister... So, please... I don’t want her to only live, but...” His small frame shivered with his plea, every hope leaving him as he offered his loyalty to the only savior that your island has ever known: you. “I want Nadia to be healed completely... Please give her a normal life, and a reason to smile under the blue sky...!
“That young man said... no matter the miracle... you... Scien Brofiise... With you... He could make it happen...”
Lucas’s fingers dug into his own scalp as he cried out in agony. His sincerest wishes escaped into the space between them. A murderer begging for the salvation of his darling sister. A demon capable of impossible feats, withering away in despair.
And yet, he did not lie.
You, Scien Brofiise, are capable of making any miracle happen. To save a girl is nothing.
“Fine,” you agree. “Stop talking already.”
Lucas looks up at you, just as you take his wrists and pull them away before he crushes his own skull. A detox is necessary. He’s of no use to you like this, but with the proper steps taken? Oh, there would be no greater asset to your steps forward. It does not matter that he did not seek assistance for himself.
For as he’d said, you are Scien Brofiise. And to take a demon’s bloody hand and pull him up from the depths of his own personal hell?
Is that not the greatest act of salvation possible? ]
[YEAH HE'S NOT GOING TO LIKE THIS!!!!! He's already just sitting here like :manstanding: before getting whopped with the memory but remembering an alternate reality version of himself from a completely different person's perspective is A LOT TO TAKE IN AND THAT'S JUST SCRATCHING THE SURFACE!!!!
The rest is the content of the memory itself. A desperate plea - one he's all too familiar with, given it's his own, and he's voiced it before. But watching it from this pragmatic window, from the eyes of a god looking down upon a horrible, bloody violent mess, is quite the opposite.
These hands haven't reached out to him before, but they do here and now. The young man's words that this Lucas had clung to are words he doesn't know. This miracle was never granted to him.
Neither was a gentle detox or fucking THERAPY SO HE'S JUST STANDING THERE AS THE MEMORY ENDS. Quiet, quiet, still as a corpse, and then:]
scien wasn't hiding to begin with. short of giving away his name and face, he treated lucas as straightforwardly as possible. every inquiry, every question, it was simply to get a better sense of where this lucas is in his journey of rehabilitation. the answer? he hadn't even begun.
but that's exactly how scien found him the first time.
so he peels off the mask and shrugs off the hood. those bright blue reliver pupils reveal themselves, and this time scien doesn't reach out when lucas's brain is probably once again being blown apart by his entire world being rocked. but he only partially reveals himself because he hates secrecy, or finds it more trouble than it's worth.
mostly: ] Your last false god never bothered to show their face. This is the least I can do for you.
I refuse to have parallels drawn between myself and that incompetent Ortie.
But it's undeniable - there he is. The mask is off, the hood is down, and it's Scien Brofiise, the man responsible for so much heartache. A face he'd gotten to know, briefly - that period of time when he'd led everyone around by the nose looking for a phantom they were already with. Rosy hair, arrogant countenance, with eyes that bore through him and yet still didn't see.
Those eyes, those bright eyes. Pupils that denote a Reliver.
Even though he's managed to work through to a halflife point and no longer has a system saturated with drugs, and even though he's coming to recognize - if not quite yet confront - the insanity in his own logic, it still triggers something inside of him.
Lucas barely even waits for him to finish speaking before he's immediately darting forward with the full intent to fucking roundhouse kick him into a tree or something god.]
[ i rolled a 6 so scien finally gets a fucking taste of his own medicine
which is to say that he partially expected this, so he doesn't immediately die on sight, but also if there's anyone who knows how dangerous his own dog is at this point, then it's him. he barely manages to block even some of the force from the kick before he does collide with the tree, looking distinctly annoyed. he will bruise from this but luckily he wouldn't do strip check either.
he rubs at his arms as he finds his feet quickly after, now properly on guard ]
[HE REALLY JUST KICKED GOD INTO A TREE well this is fine.
Lucas doesn't have a weapon but even though he wishes he did, he knows he doesn't need one! Nightmare creature! He drops into a stance that makes it very clear he's || this close to just ferally attacking in front of god and satan, normally placid expression twisting into something furious because this goes beyond his kneejerk ingrained anti-Reliver response.]
Why have you brought me here? Where is Nadia?!
[DAMN HE CAN'T BELIEVE HE WAS RIGHT ABOUT SCIEN KNOCKING HIM OUT AND DROPPING HIM IN CULT DAYCARE, IT'S ALWAYS FUCKING SCIEN.]
I understand that this is the shorthand that your brain is providing to you, but breathe for five seconds. There's clearly no oxygen flowing to your already scattered brain.
[ okay rudeass. imagine being this condescending to the person who could snap your spine in half. scien dusts himself off, and his tone is as measured and easy as ever. he's actually quiet for the next ten seconds just to see if lucas can breathe a little bit more before he speaks. ]
None of this is my doing. We're from different timelines. In yours, she's probably fine because you killed a man in cold blood for her medicine.
[ he's being less gentle about this than before because he's annoyed because he got kicked into a tree. well. that's the downside of having his emotions back. ]
In mine, she's been fine for three years. Her rehabilitation is going well, and she's taking walks outside with the help of a cane.
Before your stupid, clearly still brainwashed ass got summoned, I was ready to never see you again.
[HE TRULY SAID GLOVES OFF BECAUSE HE GOT KICKED INTO A TREE this is fine though, considering he expects unkindness from SCIEN BROFIISE KING OF DEMONS.
He does, at least, not immediately attack again in the span of those ten seconds even though he's also clearly not doing anything to breathe or calm himself down in that time either. HE'S JUST THERE, TENSE AND READY TO KILL. This is also partially because of his (looks at writing on hand) violent and bloodthirsty impulses. A bitch can never get a break.
Anyway, after Scien is done explaining the very real truth, Lucas just doubles down because this all sounds insane to him.]
What makes you think I would believe any of this?
[Except for the part where Nadia is probably fine but he also needs to get BACK THERE AND MAKE SURE SHE'S FINE BECAUSE CAPUCINE WAS CAPUCINING AND SCIEN WAS SCIENING.]
He's clearly wracking his brain for something here, and is a little discomforted when no immediate, glaring examples come to mind. Nothing he's said has been expressly proven wrong, but... all the same, there are plenty of things that haven't been proven expressly correct, either. Damn what if Scien actually killed Nehan.......
The flicker of reflexive fury seems to stem a little at least, even if the extreme wariness remains. There are a lot of points he could start with here, but he chooses:]
[ there's a briefly withering look because he really is sitting here like you've been here three weeks and don't realize your memories fail to align. okay. cool. neat. scien is surrounded by morons.
but he sighs and makes statements that he thinks will prove things the most immediately:]
I'm 26 years old, 86 if you consider the years that stopped before I updated Relivers to age. [ a beat ] In my timeline, Nadia is already 15. She felt well enough to celebrate her birthday with a small group, and could go to bed at a normal child's bedtime. She didn't need medical care, or to stop the gathering from shortness of breath. She was very happy.
[ a pointed stare ]
One of the guests was obviously you. You are 25 years old.
[LISTEN SOMETIMES THE ONLY THINGS THEY TALK ABOUT ARE CERES BEING IN TROUBLE (VAGUE) WHICH IS ALWAYS HAPPENING IN EVERY TIMELINE.
Anyway he's back to looking Mad because this is SO HARD TO BELIEVE. Updating Relivers to age? A happy and healthy Nadia?? Him living past 23??? HELLO. He's at least been exposed to different worlds so the idea of different versions of the same world isn't brain-breaking, but what the hell kind of idealistic-to-the-point-of-insanity reality is this.
...
But at the same time, it's so fucking far-fetched that it gives him pause because surely a supergenius could come up with a better lie. But maybe lying badly for sport is just a thing a king demon would do for the fun of it?? This is about the point where he'd be swinging his halberd Scien's way if he had it.]
Then you're claiming that "you" weren't the one who knocked me unconscious?
[HELLO??? HE??? HE IS THE ONE WHO'S BEING A PAIN????? He wants to crack Scien's head open like a coconut and only barely manages to suppress the urge.]
You weren't trying to "talk reason" to anyone. [BINCH YOU WERE THE ROUTE VILLAIN HE'S IN THE RIGHT THIS TIME (he doesn't know scien becomes the route villain) maybe so...]
You barged in, flung accusations at the minister and then threw a smoke bomb into the room.
[LIKE A MANIAC. "There were a lot of things that Scien said that stuck with him and haunt him especially now that he's detoxing" maybe so...]
Yes. [ just yes. ] That sounds like me, and I'm trying to talk reason to you now. So listen closely. Because those accusations were statements of fact. Your minister is a freak holding your sister hostage to control you, and when you die, he'll experiment on her more blatantly because he's obsessed with genes.
So following my own logic, I probably chose to knock you unconscious before he could order you to kill me—claiming it to be an order from God. Isn't that right, Bourreau?
[ scien massages his shoulder out now, before taking a step forward to face lucas, challenging. ]
Now, your turn for a quiz, Professeur.
Who told you Relivers are demons?
Why was your head always foggy after receiving your so-called medicine? [ scien taps at his own neck now, recalling the injection site scarring he noticed when treating his own lucas ]
And why is it, presumably three weeks after your last dose, you're so heartbroken now?
[Despite the fact that he could truly turn Scien into a smear even nerfed, he takes a reflexive step back. Once again there is SO MUCH HAPPENING IN HIS POOR BROKEN BRAIN.
He's always concerned whenever Nadia is involved, and even he can recall the delicate threat laced through Capucine's words before Scien had interrupted them. The death row inmate, Ortie, obsessed with genes to the point that he'd been ordered to capture Ceres and leave Yves behind...
But the thing is... if that's true, then he led Nadia right into the hands of something even worse than a demon. If it's true, there's no doubt that he's a sinner, a monster beyond compare - someone who would never be able to see Nadia after dying, because there would simply be no way for their souls to go to the same place. If Scien Brofiise is telling the truth, it would mean that every other truth he's known in his life has always, and will always be, a lie.
He may be riding low on the miserable cold turkey detox train but there are still years of brainwashing to undo that make it feel so much easier to shut down these possibilities and continue blaming Scien, even though the sense of unease in him is stronger than it's ever felt. Tersely, through a tense jaw, he only has one single thing to say in response to all these questions his fragile mind can't handle.]
[ when he's ready to confront every single horrible truth that just got rolled in front of him.
though scien moves on quickly after, as he always does. ]
My aim is the same as it ever was. To stop this ritual and get you all home safely.
Now that we're done playing pretend, I can now also say very specifically: I will be getting you and the Claude brat back safely. What you do afterward isn't particularly relevant to me.
[WHEN WILL THAT BE... GOOD QUESTION... PROBABLY NOT ANY TIME SOON AS HE LEAPS FROM BRAINWASHING DETOX INTO POSSESSION TOWN.
He just ignores the first part summarily, but at least some of his hostility ebbs a bit. He's still tense and insanely on his guard, but it's warier and more cautious as opposed to toeing the line of kneejerk violence.]
But getting the two of us back home is? ...I do at least believe in your group's collective efforts. [Even if his brainwashed ass really struggles with the concept of trusting Scien.] But we're hardly your charges.
Let me make sure I understand. From your current perspective, I am the originator and inventor of all those people who you call demons. The Relivers you think you needed to kill. I am the source of the poison in our society that ignored you and your sister, because what I created was abused by people who are callous and lazy.
To you, I probably have no reason to care about anything I deem beneath me, and thus all of my actions here have been nonsensical.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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...Then... would you mind if I use it every day?
[He got so spoiled by the house showers........]
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I would mind it more if you started smelling. That'd be too pitiful.
[ HE IS SO BEAUTIFUL DON'T BE STINKYYYY ]
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He just sort of gazes at them.]
Pitiful...?
[WHAT THE FCK IS THIS CHOICE OF WORDING. Well it's fine because you know what else is pitiful, being kidnapped into the memshare void and having this spat out.]
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famine watches through the memory, frowning faintly and then more deeply as it plays out. to be denied medical care again and again. to reach for an "easy" option, even though it is also the cruel one. two children suffering is no strange story. it is not unfamiliar.
it is not unfamiliar at all.
famine's judgment is decisive and immediate. they cross their arms. their voice drips with disdain. ]
Idiots... That's not what my technology was meant to do.
no subject
That said, he's plucked out of any wallowing he might have fallen into or any weird spirals because Famine's just out here saying words for sport. The way his gaze snaps from just kind of staring into the middle distance to them is like a fucking laser-guided sight.]
Your technology?
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[ perhaps it's because they're not very good at it? or. ]
Well. I don't believe you're going to like this.
[ because the void welcomes him back
For Lucas, it’s perhaps something like seeing a dog in the mirror.
A young man with fine, golden hair and crimson-stained hands crumples to the floor. His breathing comes unevenly, eyes bloodshot, and shoulders straining with every shaking breath. You don’t know him.
You don’t have to. His reputation precedes him. A midnight black coat, hood fallen around his shoulders to reveal his damp, sweaty, lovely face. Who would have guessed that the infamous Bourreau would have a frame so slight? Yet there is no mistaking it: in front of you, an executioner falls apart before his halberd can find its next victim.
On the floor of the Claude manor, he speaks to himself. Or perhaps to some higher power. Someone. Anyone. His voice is as fragile as a butterfly’s wing, still desperately trying to flutter.
“Heh... Why...? What is right, and what is wrong... I don’t know anymore...” His halberd falls to the floor, and his voice drops to a whisper. “Someone, please help...”
You see the opportunity for what it is. You stride forward. “Who is it?”
“Huh...?” The killer startles, those bright, bright blue eyes trying to find the voice despite the fact that with every step, you walk closer.
“Don’t make me repeat myself.” You’d rather not waste time. Your voice is demanding as it ever is, uncaring of the fact that this individual was seeking to kill you just hours before. “I’m asking who it is you want to save. Is it you or someone else?”
“Huh? I...”
Slow, this one. All the same, you don’t wish to be mistaken for an altruist or a saint. You are neither, and never have been. To save people is simply incidental.
“I have no reason to help a killer, but at the same time, I don’t want to be reduced to a lump of flesh,” you explain pragmatically. “I can consider offering you help if you come to our side.”
Lucas’s hollow eyes shook as a gasp escaped him. Every word left him in slow, desperate trickles. “Please... help... My young sister... Nadia... has an incurable disease...”
Covered in blood, he bows his head down to you. A devout worshiper at the feet of a god among men.
You kneel to meet him, descending to his level. “Raise your head,” you say, and catch his chin to examine his state.
Lucas’s eyes are unfocused, and he obviously stammers through his speech. It was immediately telling that he wasn’t in his right mind. You come to a quick conclusion: ‘Brainwashed and hypnotized... His eyes are dilated, so I can only assume he’s been badly drugged.’
Lucas was only able to speak by pushing through the last of his sanity.
“Ceres... That young man’s words... I... I couldn’t... give up after hearing them... I... I... I still have much to show and teach my precious younger sister... So, please... I don’t want her to only live, but...” His small frame shivered with his plea, every hope leaving him as he offered his loyalty to the only savior that your island has ever known: you. “I want Nadia to be healed completely... Please give her a normal life, and a reason to smile under the blue sky...!
“That young man said... no matter the miracle... you... Scien Brofiise... With you... He could make it happen...”
Lucas’s fingers dug into his own scalp as he cried out in agony. His sincerest wishes escaped into the space between them. A murderer begging for the salvation of his darling sister. A demon capable of impossible feats, withering away in despair.
And yet, he did not lie.
You, Scien Brofiise, are capable of making any miracle happen. To save a girl is nothing.
“Fine,” you agree. “Stop talking already.”
Lucas looks up at you, just as you take his wrists and pull them away before he crushes his own skull. A detox is necessary. He’s of no use to you like this, but with the proper steps taken? Oh, there would be no greater asset to your steps forward. It does not matter that he did not seek assistance for himself.
For as he’d said, you are Scien Brofiise. And to take a demon’s bloody hand and pull him up from the depths of his own personal hell?
Is that not the greatest act of salvation possible? ]
no subject
The rest is the content of the memory itself. A desperate plea - one he's all too familiar with, given it's his own, and he's voiced it before. But watching it from this pragmatic window, from the eyes of a god looking down upon a horrible, bloody violent mess, is quite the opposite.
These hands haven't reached out to him before, but they do here and now. The young man's words that this Lucas had clung to are words he doesn't know. This miracle was never granted to him.
Neither was a gentle detox or fucking THERAPY SO HE'S JUST STANDING THERE AS THE MEMORY ENDS. Quiet, quiet, still as a corpse, and then:]
Scien... Brofiise...
[Oh boy.]
no subject
scien wasn't hiding to begin with. short of giving away his name and face, he treated lucas as straightforwardly as possible. every inquiry, every question, it was simply to get a better sense of where this lucas is in his journey of rehabilitation. the answer? he hadn't even begun.
but that's exactly how scien found him the first time.
so he peels off the mask and shrugs off the hood. those bright blue reliver pupils reveal themselves, and this time scien doesn't reach out when lucas's brain is probably once again being blown apart by his entire world being rocked. but he only partially reveals himself because he hates secrecy, or finds it more trouble than it's worth.
mostly: ] Your last false god never bothered to show their face. This is the least I can do for you.
I refuse to have parallels drawn between myself and that incompetent Ortie.
[ that is just so fucking offensive? ]
no subject
But it's undeniable - there he is. The mask is off, the hood is down, and it's Scien Brofiise, the man responsible for so much heartache. A face he'd gotten to know, briefly - that period of time when he'd led everyone around by the nose looking for a phantom they were already with. Rosy hair, arrogant countenance, with eyes that bore through him and yet still didn't see.
Those eyes, those bright eyes. Pupils that denote a Reliver.
Even though he's managed to work through to a halflife point and no longer has a system saturated with drugs, and even though he's coming to recognize - if not quite yet confront - the insanity in his own logic, it still triggers something inside of him.
Lucas barely even waits for him to finish speaking before he's immediately darting forward with the full intent to fucking roundhouse kick him into a tree or something god.]
no subject
which is to say that he partially expected this, so he doesn't immediately die on sight, but also if there's anyone who knows how dangerous his own dog is at this point, then it's him. he barely manages to block even some of the force from the kick before he does collide with the tree, looking distinctly annoyed. he will bruise from this but luckily he wouldn't do strip check either.
he rubs at his arms as he finds his feet quickly after, now properly on guard ]
Fine. Get it out of your system.
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Lucas doesn't have a weapon but even though he wishes he did, he knows he doesn't need one! Nightmare creature! He drops into a stance that makes it very clear he's || this close to just ferally attacking in front of god and satan, normally placid expression twisting into something furious because this goes beyond his kneejerk ingrained anti-Reliver response.]
Why have you brought me here? Where is Nadia?!
[DAMN HE CAN'T BELIEVE HE WAS RIGHT ABOUT SCIEN KNOCKING HIM OUT AND DROPPING HIM IN CULT DAYCARE, IT'S ALWAYS FUCKING SCIEN.]
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[ okay rudeass. imagine being this condescending to the person who could snap your spine in half. scien dusts himself off, and his tone is as measured and easy as ever. he's actually quiet for the next ten seconds just to see if lucas can breathe a little bit more before he speaks. ]
None of this is my doing. We're from different timelines. In yours, she's probably fine because you killed a man in cold blood for her medicine.
[ he's being less gentle about this than before because he's annoyed because he got kicked into a tree. well. that's the downside of having his emotions back. ]
In mine, she's been fine for three years. Her rehabilitation is going well, and she's taking walks outside with the help of a cane.
Before your stupid, clearly still brainwashed ass got summoned, I was ready to never see you again.
no subject
He does, at least, not immediately attack again in the span of those ten seconds even though he's also clearly not doing anything to breathe or calm himself down in that time either. HE'S JUST THERE, TENSE AND READY TO KILL. This is also partially because of his (looks at writing on hand) violent and bloodthirsty impulses. A bitch can never get a break.
Anyway, after Scien is done explaining the very real truth, Lucas just doubles down because this all sounds insane to him.]
What makes you think I would believe any of this?
[Except for the part where Nadia is probably fine but he also needs to get BACK THERE AND MAKE SURE SHE'S FINE BECAUSE CAPUCINE WAS CAPUCINING AND SCIEN WAS SCIENING.]
no subject
When have I lied to you?
[ a simple question. lucas is free to have his biases. scien knows exactly where they're starting off with.
but in the past three weeks, despite being hooded and masked, only one person here has been telling lie after lie. ]
Do not mistake me for you.
no subject
He's clearly wracking his brain for something here, and is a little discomforted when no immediate, glaring examples come to mind. Nothing he's said has been expressly proven wrong, but... all the same, there are plenty of things that haven't been proven expressly correct, either. Damn what if Scien actually killed Nehan.......
The flicker of reflexive fury seems to stem a little at least, even if the extreme wariness remains. There are a lot of points he could start with here, but he chooses:]
...What do you mean, "different timelines"?
[HE AND MATHIS HAVEN'T FIGURED IT OOOOOOOUT.]
no subject
but he sighs and makes statements that he thinks will prove things the most immediately:]
I'm 26 years old, 86 if you consider the years that stopped before I updated Relivers to age. [ a beat ] In my timeline, Nadia is already 15. She felt well enough to celebrate her birthday with a small group, and could go to bed at a normal child's bedtime. She didn't need medical care, or to stop the gathering from shortness of breath. She was very happy.
[ a pointed stare ]
One of the guests was obviously you. You are 25 years old.
no subject
Anyway he's back to looking Mad because this is SO HARD TO BELIEVE. Updating Relivers to age? A happy and healthy Nadia?? Him living past 23??? HELLO. He's at least been exposed to different worlds so the idea of different versions of the same world isn't brain-breaking, but what the hell kind of idealistic-to-the-point-of-insanity reality is this.
...
But at the same time, it's so fucking far-fetched that it gives him pause because surely a supergenius could come up with a better lie. But maybe lying badly for sport is just a thing a king demon would do for the fun of it?? This is about the point where he'd be swinging his halberd Scien's way if he had it.]
Then you're claiming that "you" weren't the one who knocked me unconscious?
[A LIKELY STORY.]
[1/2]
[ TO BE VERY CLEAR ]
I would probably do that because clearly trying to talk reason to you is a pain. This is a pain.
no subject
What was the last exchange that you recall? Because you pleading for help and my answering your call was the very first time we met.
In my experience.
no subject
You weren't trying to "talk reason" to anyone. [BINCH YOU WERE THE ROUTE VILLAIN HE'S IN THE RIGHT THIS TIME (he doesn't know scien becomes the route villain) maybe so...]
You barged in, flung accusations at the minister and then threw a smoke bomb into the room.
[LIKE A MANIAC. "There were a lot of things that Scien said that stuck with him and haunt him especially now that he's detoxing" maybe so...]
no subject
So following my own logic, I probably chose to knock you unconscious before he could order you to kill me—claiming it to be an order from God. Isn't that right, Bourreau?
[ scien massages his shoulder out now, before taking a step forward to face lucas, challenging. ]
Now, your turn for a quiz, Professeur.
Who told you Relivers are demons?
Why was your head always foggy after receiving your so-called medicine? [ scien taps at his own neck now, recalling the injection site scarring he noticed when treating his own lucas ]
And why is it, presumably three weeks after your last dose, you're so heartbroken now?
no subject
He's always concerned whenever Nadia is involved, and even he can recall the delicate threat laced through Capucine's words before Scien had interrupted them. The death row inmate, Ortie, obsessed with genes to the point that he'd been ordered to capture Ceres and leave Yves behind...
But the thing is... if that's true, then he led Nadia right into the hands of something even worse than a demon. If it's true, there's no doubt that he's a sinner, a monster beyond compare - someone who would never be able to see Nadia after dying, because there would simply be no way for their souls to go to the same place. If Scien Brofiise is telling the truth, it would mean that every other truth he's known in his life has always, and will always be, a lie.
He may be riding low on the miserable cold turkey detox train but there are still years of brainwashing to undo that make it feel so much easier to shut down these possibilities and continue blaming Scien, even though the sense of unease in him is stronger than it's ever felt. Tersely, through a tense jaw, he only has one single thing to say in response to all these questions his fragile mind can't handle.]
What is your aim?
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[ when he's ready to confront every single horrible truth that just got rolled in front of him.
though scien moves on quickly after, as he always does. ]
My aim is the same as it ever was. To stop this ritual and get you all home safely.
Now that we're done playing pretend, I can now also say very specifically: I will be getting you and the Claude brat back safely. What you do afterward isn't particularly relevant to me.
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He just ignores the first part summarily, but at least some of his hostility ebbs a bit. He's still tense and insanely on his guard, but it's warier and more cautious as opposed to toeing the line of kneejerk violence.]
But getting the two of us back home is? ...I do at least believe in your group's collective efforts. [Even if his brainwashed ass really struggles with the concept of trusting Scien.] But we're hardly your charges.
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[ be nice ]
Let me make sure I understand. From your current perspective, I am the originator and inventor of all those people who you call demons. The Relivers you think you needed to kill. I am the source of the poison in our society that ignored you and your sister, because what I created was abused by people who are callous and lazy.
To you, I probably have no reason to care about anything I deem beneath me, and thus all of my actions here have been nonsensical.
Is that right?
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