logs | (catchall / open)

I'd be very curious to know what their definition of justice is.

[ Do they even have trial here? It feels like they know precious little about how this place is run. But imprisoning people on such a large scale was a foolish move. He doesn't know how powerful the Heirarchy is, but there are plenty of Restless with formidable abilities and intellect. To collectively make them an enemy will only hurt their authority in the long run.

He would hope the leadership were more intelligent than this, but who knows.

The kettle starts to rattle as the water heats up. It's a dingy little thing, but free of any rust that would poison the water at least. ]

I assume the guards were tight lipped. Were you able to glean any specifics on where the order came from?

[ His answer is flat, unimpressed. ]

No. We received no word on why we were jailed, no proper sentencing, no trial. Were it not for the rescue efforts, I wouldn't be surprised if we were kept there indefinitely.

[ And considering some of the people he saw in the gallows, he sincerely doubts all of them had even committed a crime in the first place. ]

Though this type of brute force isn't surprising when several members of the Hierarchy were killed last month.

[ The kettle whistles, and Claude turns to turn the stove off and pour the water into the cups. A strong herbal scent accompanies the gesture, earthy and crisp. ]

I guess. It seems rather ill-informed and premature to me, to make such a huge gesture on such weak grounds. I don't know what kind of power the Hierarchy wields, but our colleagues don't like skill and power of their own. I wouldn't want to make enemies with such a large population.

... Well, not without good reason.

[ Hehe!

With the tea on its way, he grabs the cups and tilts his head toward his bedroom, gesturing for Dimitri to follow him as he wanders in. ]

In any case, we'll see what follows. So far our final rest hasn't been very restful.

[ The tea is nice. He breathes in the vapor of it, realizing that he and Claude never had much opportunity for tea times before the premature closing of the officer's academy, but this flavor does seem to suit him anyway.

He takes his mug carefully and follows after Claude; maybe their conversation is bordering on treasonous so... he wants to talk about it in his room? He doesn't think too hard about it, answering with a short hum. ]

They may not see us as a threat. They likely have long-seated power of their own, and from the looks of it, wealth.

[ What do they have? A slightly better than rundown apartment, some coin scrounged from mercenary tasks, and weapons that break under their hands. Even if they're a capable bunch of newcomers, they're still just newcomers. ]

...Do you think this is the afterlife, then? I saw that some had their doubts.

[ They're moving to his bedroom because Claude doesn't want to disturb his suite mate who may or may not exist. He takes a seat on the only available chair, waiting to see if Dimitri sits down on the bed or opts to stand awkwardly. ]

I think there's plenty of reason to believe that it isn't the afterlife. But maybe it is an afterlife of sorts. To be honest, after discovering that we're all from different versions of Fódlan, I'm inclined to believe that anything is possible.

[ He makes a face before sipping his tea, thoughtful still. ]

... Including leaving this place. Maybe. Maybe that's just denial about being dead. [ Who knows, it's all very confusing. ] Have you got a soulmate, Dimitri?

[ Imagine knowing how these rooms are laid out. Anyway, they go to Claude's corpse room, and Dimitri indeed opts to awkwardly lean against one of the walls. Someone else's bed isn't open season seating. It's not an incredibly casual conversation either; Dimitri looks slightly doubtful that there's a way "back" to life, but it's true that the possibilities here are far, far beyond any imagination.

He listens to Claude's conjecture as he enjoys his tea, allowing himself to unwind slightly. He hadn't realized just how engaged his entire body was, ready to spring at any perceived threat.

And, well—Claude isn't exactly harmless. But he doesn't feel that he's in danger here. It's part of why he chooses to answer honestly instead of shutting down the conversation. ]

...I do, I think. It was not intentional, but as far as I know the results are permanent, so what's done is done. Do you?

[ It's pretty strange to stand while drinking a cup of tea, but Claude supposes that he can't blame for Dimitri for being on edge. He'd always seemed to be rather high-strung on the best of days, and he'd run through a particularly traumatizing experience. And now he's alone in a room with someone who he probably suspects would stab him without a moment's hesitation.

He should let him return to familiar company soon. ]

No, I don't.

[ He doesn't bother hiding his curiosity, tilting his head as he thinks. ]

The connection allows you to share thoughts and senses, doesn't it? I've been thinking that it's a great tool for espionage... Did you find that it's effects were blocked while you were imprisoned?

[ The tea is soothing, but it doesn't suddenly energize him. If anything, no longer being tense and in motion just makes him realize how worn down he is. He leans wearily against the wall, glancing over at nothing in particular as he considers. ]

I hadn't thought of using it that way. [ Claude's not wrong—it could probably be used as a subtle means of communication, though he somewhat doubts the efficacy of such a thing. Even as a practical tool, the soulmate bond feels too amorphous and emotional to be controlled finely. ] But I was still able to feel it within that prison, yes. While my own power has felt inconsistent here in general, coming and going as it pleases, the effects of having a soulmate are... stabilizing.

[ They're reliable, if at times inconvenient. Even so, after a moment, ]

I hope you'll consider finding one soon, Claude.

[ It's always dangerous to be isolated, and that seems even more true here. ]

[ He hums, a little delighted to have someone to question about the function of soulmates. He's surprised that such a large population of the other Restless are so resistant—but at least it doesn't make him feel like the odd man out. Paranoia is right.

He sips his own tea. ]

Stabilizing in what sense? You haven't had an issues with your "Shadow" so to speak?

[ That was the main draw, wasn't it? Though Claude is sure there's other ways to deal with that. ]

How far does the sharing of senses go, anyway? Could you theoretically see what they're seeing? Or hearing?

[ Unfortunately, paranoia is right. Or so his survival instincts tell him. And despite Dimitri's demeanor and tendency to leap face-first into danger, the base instinct of staying alive is still honed in him—and the idea of soulmate bonds is a vulnerability that runs counter to that.

Still, he doesn't know if he regrets it. Claude peppers him with academic questions and he responds in kind. ]

It does not "cure" Shadows, but it has a somewhat... soothing effect, yes. But my experience with the bond hasn't been so acute. It's more like an awareness of their presence, the things that go on in their mind and hearts.

[ Not their eyes and ears. Before he continues though, staying stationary for this long finally takes a toll on him; his grip goes weak for a moment, and he nearly drops the mug, tea sloshing up the sides before he catches it again.

The porcelain very nearly cracks under his fingers from his surprise, and he sighs, closing his eyes. ]

...Would it be all right if I sat for a moment, Claude? [ He hadn't wanted to intrude, but. ]

[ Claude's gaze darts to the cup as soon as it looks like it's going to drop, his own on the table as he moves to stand, crossing the distance a second after Dimitri finishes speaking to settle a firm hand on his shoulder. He probably shouldn't bother him as much as he has, but finding someone with a soulmate is akin to finding a unicorn in this place, and he's deeply curious about its utility.

Well, later. ]

No problem. We can talk anytime.

[ He takes the cup from Dimitri and sets it on the ground. Dimitri looks particularly unsteady and, frankly, unwell that ] If I didn't know any better, I'd think I'd poisoned you.

—Kidding, of course.

[ But he keeps an arm around Dimitri all the same. Not so much because he's afraid that he'll topple over, but so that he can stubbornly lead Dimitri to the bed instead of Claude's vacated chair. He doubts that Dimitri will be all that comfortable on Claude's bed, but maybe his body will be too tired to care.

Though maybe Claude should've given the whole "toppling over" possibility a little more consideration. It's his own messiness that's at fault, when he steps on a book that he'd left haphazardly on the ground, letting out a sound of surprise when that steals his balances, sends his legs bumping into Dimitri's and ends up tackling them both to bed. ]

[ Rather than alarm, he just looks at Claude with exasperation at his little joke; even knowing that Dimitri's tastebuds are broken, his logical, non-lizard brain doesn't expect poison to be on the table. And he only makes a token effort to squirm away and walk on his own two feet when Claude moves to help him.

Because the exhaustion does help against the alarm bells that his body sometimes sets off, the same ones that have followed him since childhood. And so he simply goes along with this, embarrassing as it is. He accepts that rather than sitting on the ground, he'll have to take up a space on Claude's bed and feel a little bad about it.

And similarly, after a brief shock and fluster of surprise when they suddenly and violently topple forward, he is resigned to the inevitable. When they land, Dimitri simply lies there on his face, not moving. He's accepted his fate.

This may as well be happening. ]

[ It's a rare thing for someone as stubborn as Dimitri to surrender. They hadn't known each other long at Garreg Mach, but the time they did have together was often filled with Claude pestering Dimitri about something or another, and failing to have him give into Claude's ploys. Honestly, it was him and Edelgard both—part of what made them good leaders, he supposes.

But first, Dimitri relents and lets Claude manhandle him to the bed for some rest, and second, he gives up and accepts his fate when they tumble onto the mattress.

It's both funny, and sad. He can only imagine how tired Dimitri must be. ]

Well, not exactly how I planned to do this... [ He laughs, because what else can he do?

They'd landed somewhat side by side, managing to avoid any injuries, with Dimitri face down and Claude on his back. It's easy from this position to smile at Dimitri's defeated form, patting his head and his back. ]

Sleep well, Dimitri. Take this as a sign to get some sleep... I won't bother you any longer.

(catchall / open)

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