chiseler | Melodrama and a bottle of wine, here's to self expression, here's to everyone that's dead [Post T3]

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!the cradle project

Melodrama and a bottle of wine, here's to self expression, here's to everyone that's dead [Post T3]

[By the time he killed a bottle of wine with a little help from some people, Luke realized he still wasn't entirely feeling better about...everything. Granted, he was also probably a little drunk but whatever, that's besides the point. It's for that reason that he seemingly forgets he could ask the robots to deliver wine and food to his room and he leaves, Backbiter strapped to his back still and not-quite stumbling his way to find a robot to bother. With a new bottle of wine obtained he decides that his room's too far away and makes his way for the viewport instead.

And that's how it became late at night and Luke Castellan's alone in the viewport drinking from a bottle of wine and staring out into space. Even with his abilities nuked a little, and even with his senses slightly impaired, he hears footsteps after a short while and looks up, spotting someone familiar and whistling to get Clover's attention.]

Shouldn't you be in bed? [But he doesn't sound like he cares one way or another. Actually, he sounds pretty happy to see her.]

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One of those things is more believable than the other, I think. [Sure is where this asshole ended up and he's even moving his legs a little to make sure she has room. With the bottle in one hand he still mostly catches the candy with the other. It's a nice offering at least.] Guess it's one way to get through a trial until tomorrow morning.

[He only pauses to tear open the bag with his teeth.] What're you really doing down here? Wandering?

[She's definitely a grown-up!! She has a job and bills and stuff!!! With a tiny hmph, she sticks her tongue out at him, but she quickly settles down.]

Let's go with wandering. [She isn't even going to pretend to be capable of subtlety, apparently.] What are you doing down here? [Besides drinking.]

[She's probably lucky he doesn't think it's weird enough to question her. But he's also not sure how to answer that so he huffs and shrugs before staring out the window again.]

My room is really...really far. Like really far. This seemed like a better idea and nobody else was around. [Nobody else could come bother him and that's pretty great.] We've got what, another couple of hours before this shit starts over again? May as well enjoy it.

[She nods; why walk places when the option of not doing so exists? That's fair. But it's a little weirder to think of things in terms of how many hours until there's another motive, another list of vulnerables, another week of worrying. Of waiting things out until the next death, the next trial. How strange it is to be here in between it all.

The closest thing she can do to articulate any that, though, is hum thoughtfully.]

Is it less of a better idea with somebody else being around? [y'know, now that she's here and being a bother, 'cause, like. she'll go.]

[Welcome to some of the stranger things Luke thinks about. They didn't stop things in time. They only had a few hours before the motive would be revealed and then it was just a matter of time. This is probably the few hours they could even consider remotely "peaceful." And that's only if you ignored the execution.

But he pops some Skittles into his mouth and chews just as thoughtfully.] ....nah. You're one of the few people that won't get on my nerves for the next couple of hours. [Which is just about as close to calling her a friend as he can get to at the moment so there you go.] And anyway I'm used to having bad ideas. [Bad ideas such as lighting his clothes on fire, seeing how he's still in his ripped t-shirt. Oh well.] It'll work either way.

Then I'll take what I can get. [She'll take "doesn't get on nerves;" she can recognize a thing that vaguely resembles sentiment when she hears it and she's a little brighter for it, too.

Just for a moment, though—and then she fidgets, considers what it is she wants to ask—] Um. [great start, nailed it. Not that she's ever been good at seriousness, but it's a tougher transition when every other conversation they've ever had has been made of sass.] ...Can I ask what he told you, after everything? [It was kind of hard not to notice that happening after Luke straight-up tried to jump Lavi. Y'know. She adds, quickly,] But you don't have to tell me, like, that's not why I'm here.

[He doesn't quite look at her, mostly watching from the corner of his eye and taking note of her current disposition. He's hardly surprised by the question seeing how he sure did try to jump the poor guy.

On the other hand, he's not sure what Clover would do with the information either so...there's a pause. What could it hurt? She probably wouldn't tell anyone and he didn't have to tell her everything.]

I don't think I've gotta say that you're keeping this to yourself. [Don't hit betray, Clover.] He told me exactly what happened and how everything happened that night. It's the only reason I can't put the blame on him for what happened to Allen. [There are things you can't prevent.] Besides, I'm gonna guess he already feels bad enough about Allen. [...not necessarily Machias, but again, he can sympathize with that.] It was all just a wrong place at the wrong time kind of thing.

[Her? Hit betray? Never. But okay, no, she can keep a secret, and she nods and mmhmms and means it.

It takes her a moment to speak up after, and when she does, she's quiet and careful, things that pretty much never describe her, never mind at once.] I kinda figured it was something like that. [And she didn't vote for Lavi because of it, because she couldn't say it was anyone's fault—not that it made a difference. She isn't sure if she feels stupid for it or not.

Sighing, she leans forward and sets her elbows on her knees so she can prop her head in her hands.] Sucks. [The trial. The murder. The paranoia. The murdergame in general, really? Most things.]

[It felt like a dick move to vote for Machias after they luminol'd the hammer, he needed to stay on Jason and Shelley's good side, and Arumat's a friend. Lavi was the only choice left but it doesn't mean he had to like it.]

Can't say I blame him for not telling anybody else either. Some people would rather be hated than pitied. [But there's a snort following.] Couldn't have said it better myself though. [Somehow joking about the murders isn't as fun anymore. He's busy amusing himself by twirling the bottle to make the liquid turn into a small cyclone inside the glass, only slightly bothered by the vein of conversation.] …said it to somebody else earlier, too. Thought I was done letting other people control the lives of people I know. Just don't know what to do about it yet.

No, I don't blame him, either.

[At last they have found the day where the murders stop being funny. And it sucks. What happened to the good old days where we didn't have to feel things. But she's watching him twirl the bottle in the meantime, just because it's something moving.]

Yet. [It isn't doubtful or questioning, but it's not any kind of agreement or assurance, either; if anything, it sounds closer to a question. These sorts of games have rules and by now, she knows better than to think there's a way around them.] I don't know that it's about anyone letting anything happen, though.

[We wasted a day and a half hunting for a body, that's what happened. But still...he recognizes that tone in a way that he usually states things and though he doesn't know about murdergames like Clover does (and doesn't know she knows about murdergames at all), he knows a thing or two about being manipulated.]

Then what do you think it's about?

[Clover pauses, sitting up straighter so she can, after a second, wave her hand vaguely in the air next to her.] That's not really it, it's just...

[That's not the question she expected to follow that, so she needs a second. She's veering far too close to the territory of actually having to explain herself here.] ...with everything going on the way it is, [space kidnapping, magic, y'know] I just don't think it's fair for anyone to say any of us just let this happen, like we're gonna, I dunno, undo the motives and fly the spaceship home. I guess.

[nailed it]

...Something like that.

[continuing to nail it]

[Well that's interesting. He's used to her being able to follow beat for beat so to touch on something? It's interesting.]

I'm not saying it was any of us...[He doesn't trust that it's not yet though. But he might just be projecting a little.] If anything I'm talking about our AI. You can't tell me she's not just letting this happen. Her programming is bullshit. [And before he can bother, impulse eggs him on.] Unless you wanna call this fulfilling some kind of prophecy. Take your pick. [Hes at least giving her an opportunity to try again.]

Bad luck, destined future, one of the two. [Theeere we go, even if it comes with a little less of her usual panache. She didn't mean to get quiiite this involved in placing murdergame blame and now she's trying to un-dig herself from the hole of murdergame anecdotes.] No, that's what I meant, that it's all on the AI and whoever coded this stupid game. Like, that's all at least a little more active than just letting stuff happen. [Another vague hand-waving gesture before she folds her arms.] I dunno. I'm overthinking things.

Overthinking? [Just a flat look.] You wanna know what I think? I don't think you overthink. I think you might be one of the more clever people on this ship. [Not smart, necessarily. But clever. There's a distinct difference.] And being clever means kinda knowing what you're talking about.

[But he's still not touching on the idea that she's done this before. He looks out the window again.] I don't like the idea of this being bad luck. You can't change luck, but you can kinda change fate even if it's pre-destined. ["Kinda." There's a pause, uncertainty showing up as he thinks of a way to backpedal himself.] Makes you wonder if whoever coded the AI and this messed-up system's actually still here.

[—huh. Well. She's been sitting here trying to babble her way out of being direct and he calls her clever, and she looks kind of startled.]

Oh. [????? approval?????? compliments??????? It takes another second, but she brightens.] Thanks.

["Kinda." This should confuse her more than it does, but nope, she's been there—or, y'know, in that general vicinity—too, so she's watching him with her head tilted just so, curious but not enough to push the subject when he's trying to change it.]

Maybe. Maybe they're hidden way deep in the ship somewhere. Or they're off watching everything from a far-off control room or something.

[It takes a very clever person to avoid being direct. If he were more arrogant, he'd think that Clover's a little like himself. (…oh whatever, he's completely arrogant and finds that she's a little like himself.) There's a small smirk at the thanks and he knows that she's curious. But he's not quite ready to just share everything yet.]

There's a lot of locked doors on this ship and I can't get into any of them. [Which pisses him off greatly.] What if whoever's behind all this keeps switching out their base and that's why new doors open and other ones close?

Oh, maybe. That sounds like it'd be a lot of setup all the time, though, to make sure we don't find any trace of them anywhere else. [Humming, she tugs at one of her hair curls and lets it spring.] But then you have to ask why they'd need to move around anyway. Or maybe we should even ask why they're hiding in the first place. Like, is it a matter of safety even though the "valued" players can be protected?

[He watches her hair mostly for the fact that it's movement and it amuses him slightly. On the other hand, the topic at hand is less amusing since he can sort of see the genius behind it all.]

Matter of safety, matter of making sure they don't show their whole hand, matter of getting us to trust in each other even if whoever it is might be among us...could be anything like that. If you're gonna be doing something this big, you only stay in one place long enough to do what you need for the first part of your plan. Then you move on to the next. Plus the valued players change every week.

[On the bright side, he seems a little more interested in the candy than the wine now, so thanks for that.] I'm gonna tell you something. But you have to keep it to yourself, too. Deal?

[The curl-springing continues and she nods along with the answer, and there's even a thoughtful little hum when he mentions the idea of the mastermind being among them, but she doesn't look especially surprised by any of it.]

It's too much to be really be sure of anything, huh...

[But the next bit is worth quitting the fidgeting and leaving her hair alone for. Anything that has to stay secret must be important.] Deal. I won't tell anyone, I promise.

[So far. He meant to say "so far" out loud but somehow that didn't work out too well for him. He's had time to think and time to talk to people, and he's just relaxed and inebriated enough to explain a little bit to Clover of all people. (Plus there's the assurance he could probably figure out a way out if she reacted in a way he didn't want.) So he pauses, chewing on a handful of candy before he hums lightly.]

Cool. So! Here's the thing. Masterminds and overrulers always move to follow where the people will go. As times change and as situations change, they know they have to move, too. …Mount Olympus used to be in Greece, you know? I mean, yeah, the mountain's still there, but Olympus itself has gravitated west from Europe over the ocean and now to its current home in Manhattan. The gods moved with it. They've got the ability to shield themselves and make their appearance lesser than their divine form, basically, 'cause of the Mist. Anybody who can't see through the Mist can't see everything else like monsters and gods and when we use our powers and stuff like that.

[He pauses for a moment.] We were in those pods for a while, I'm guessing. How do we know something similar isn't in place? Harold was talkin' about some…frequency…thing that might explain why our powers are limited here. The gods are all-seeing and know about our fate pretty much from the moment we're born. They watch us and then refuse to answer us and just let all of this stuff happen. Doesn't mean there weren't people working against them with other parties either. [Luke what are you getting at…] We need to really start looking at everybody left and get the AI to answer more questions.

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Melodrama and a bottle of wine, here's to self expression, here's to everyone that's dead [Post T3]

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