snowblindrpg | [network] @dulcedeleche; █ ███████ [MORNING 385]

Right. Of course. Everyone wants to protect everyone, everyone is happy to give their own life for everyone else, it doesn't matter what happens to me as long as you're safe, says everyone, and I'm the only one who seems to grasp that this beautiful altruism is only going to end with everyone being sacrificed!

[Something's not quite right with his logic there... or is it?]

I used to think I had an issue with morality. Now I realize I'm the only one who doesn't have issues with self-preservation!

That's not what's happening! I offered myself as a contingency plan, in extremely specific circumstances that only I can help with! It's just sensible. I'm offering myself in circumstances where everyone would definitely die if I didn't!

[ She is being shouted at and she Does Not Like It. We're going full chin-in-the-air, arms folded rebellious siren stance here, kiddos. STRAP IN. ]

And she won't be killed by it so if it happens, we still have a chance to save her and all escape.

[He takes a deep breath.]

If it happens. Only if. That doesn't mean it's not worth planning for or thinking ahead about, but it does mean that she isn't jumping as blindly into this sacrifice as I suspect we're both wont to.

[And a look at Angel that asks Right? He loves you both and this isn't clear-cut and everyone being calm about it would be really great.]

Edited 2018-07-28 18:37 (UTC)

[Really, Enoch? Really? All it gets him is a bark of laughter, dry and cracking. Cracking, that's a good descriptor there.]

Right. Always a good reason. Always a perfectly thought out plan. Well - [The laughter turns into a snarl.] What if I did join your little party? What if I say I won't leave until I'm the last man out? Are we all just going to sit together in our sacrifice circle and try to talk each other out of it, no, I love you best and deserve it least so I'm saving your life? Let's hear your damned ifs!

Edited 2018-08-01 11:29 (UTC)

Okay! If you did that, I'd respect your decision even though you staying behind wouldn't actually save anyone. Even though you'd be doing it to prove a stupid point. Even though it'd be as dumb and as meaninglessly futile as when - as - like what I did back home.

[ Because that was meaningless and it changed nothing and Jack opened the vault anyway, and this time if she can't get out or has to die she needs it to mean something ]

It isn't about loving anyone best, it's about practicality. If we run out of power again, would you rather I sit here and twiddle my thumbs so we can all die together?

Actually, that's exactly what I was thinking might save you, Angel. If you had to buy us time, we could stay after everyone else escapes and find the means to restore our powers. So...

[A glance between Beckett and Angel. He's aware he's proposing a drastic measure, something that would change Angel indefinitely. But...if it came to that, he would rather have the option proposed than left silent and overlooked.]

I know that power can be stored. So perhaps you could leave some for after you were...removed. If Beckett were to turn you into a vampire, you would be immune to the radiation and- my blessings protect me from ingested poisons, so perhaps it will be the same for poison in the air. No power would have to be spent on the machines keeping us alive.

If...if that's something neither of you mind. I'm aware the measures are drastic. A contingency plan for a contingency plan.

[He offers a shaky, hopeful smile, particularly at Beckett. He knows it's a painful situation to think about. He hopes he's just made it a little less so, rather than worse.]

That isn't the bloody point!

[He's conceded before. He isn't going to again. Exhaustion had got him then, but now his energy is sharp and frantic. He whirls on Angel; Enoch's attempts at conciliation via reason only make him angrier.]

Futile?! You stood up to him! You defied his plans, you got out the only way possible! And now this - how do you see this going, Angel? Will you let the admin suck you dry until we're all out, and consider yourself dying happily? Or do you plan to keep going until you can save Winter, Andromeda, who knows who else?

[Lines are about to be crossed. He feels it. But he's full into the swing of the anger and he can't stop.]

If I need to die to get everyone else out, yes! And if I could save Winter and Andromeda by holding on a little longer, I'd do that too!

[ She looks at Enoch apologetically - she's trying not to raise her own voice, but it's. Getting kind of hard. ]

Is that such a problem? That I'm putting the lives of an entire town before my own? Or is - is it that you think I'm putting them before you?

[The smile slips away. This is, for whatever reason, striking him as the same sort of situation as impending loss he cannot control. Desperate to try and stop the fighting, he reaches out to put a hand on each party's shoulder, firm but not forceful. As if to say he's ready to push them apart if he needs to.]

Please, stop! I know all of this hurts, for both of you, but please - please. Let's focus on escaping together, whatever form it takes. Nobody wants anyone else to die. And...life outside this place would be- it wouldn't be the same without all of us. Perhaps not even worth the sacrifice.

[It might sound a bit like he's waffling between sides at first glance but wasn't his proposed plan a way to stay together even if Angel's plan came to pass?]

Edited (caught a typo) 2018-08-01 18:34 (UTC)

[Beckett doesn't know if she means to get this reaction out of him, but at Angel's accusation he visibly flinches.] You know that is the opposite of - you know. [That he doesn't, wouldn't, could never demand that she live for him. Of course she knows. This is just her stabbing where he's vulnerable.

His shoulder is stone-stiff and shaking slightly with tense energy under Enoch's hand. Poor Enoch just wants peace, and he deserves it. But maybe this is something he can't understand. He's too, well, too whole.]

I'd like us to focus on that, yes. Escaping together. [His voice is similarly tight.] But I think some of us aren't all ready to leave yet.

[He may not just be talking about Angel, but it's hard to tell.]

I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that.

[ It comes out smaller and weaker than she'd like, but isn't that just the story of her entire freaking life? She means it, anyway, which is the important thing. Probably.

Her shoulder sags a little under Enoch's hand, loose and malleable and in direct contrast to Beckett's. It'd be very easy to assume that it's indicative of her resistance draining, but.

Nah. ]

I'm not going to take back my offer, though. It's a last resort, and will be called upon accordingly if at all. It has nothing to do with whether I'm ready to leave or not, and since I'm the only one of us who doesn't know if they'll be able to I kinda think saying that is - it's a jerk move.

[The only one? He gives a heavy, worried glance towards Beckett. Isn't his world gone?

He then squeezes Angel's shoulder as if to say he understands the slip. And then Beckett's, gentler as if contrasting the tension.]

Listen to me, please, both of you. Beckett - I don't see sacrifice for its own sake here. This place alters our minds, our memories, even our values. What it cannot change it bends to its advantage. It wages war against who we are. [His voice breaks, and keeps breaking, as he continues in a tear-controlling grimace of pain.] We are robbed of the most intrinsic of control, and chances to save one another are rare and almost always too late.

Can you fault her for wanting the control to undo "too late"?

[A shaky breath. It doesn't do much to correct the waver in his voice.]

Angel, I respect your resolve. Please respect mine in kind, to ensure you escape even then. Please don't prove me wrong about sacrifice. I love both of you. I won't leave without you if I can help it.

[Yeah, about that. Beckett feels the stab of remorse, but also a kind of sudden, choking sympathy. When she brings that up, she brings up a whole different perspective on what she's trying to do, and it's one that hits home.]

You're not the only one, [he says, gently now. Not a reproach, the opposite. You're not alone with this.]

I can't fault her, no. I understand - I know I don't have any right to. [Remembering what he had done, the last time he'd tipped over one of Norfinbury's periodic edges of desperation. Walked away. Ran away.] But I can't bear... this, either. I can't think of you back in a bunker, Angel. And that's what this would be. And you know it.

It's not the same.

[ She's talking about potential re-bunkerification, though either of them could be forgiven for thinking she means the differences between why she and Beckett may not be able to leave. She's looking off to one side, unwilling to watch Enoch as his voice cracks or Beckett as he talks about can'ts. ]

I'll be willing. And it'll mean something. If it does happen, this time I won't be a slave to a madman, or fitted with a shock collar, or in constant pain, or kept alive against my will. It's different. I probably wouldn't even need to be rescued, I'm sure the administrator would let me go when everyone is safe! If not, you have my permission to kick ass.

And you know I will. I'm sure we both will. Rhys, too. You know how determined he can be. We can- we can make it through even this.

[It wouldn't be the first time he and Beckett teamed up against someone to free hostages after all...

Words don't really do any of this any more good so he takes a step forward to wrap his arms around their shoulders.]

And you think that would make it right?

[For whatever make it right is supposed to mean, here. For whatever right is. Beckett isn't sure himself. His shoulders bend under Enoch's arms, though what he wants is to strain against it, his friend's living warmth, and push again, push back. Push until something breaks. Something needs to break.

Instead he falls silent, but it isn't a good silence. He leaves Angel's words to hang, like he's expecting them to curdle in the void of his refusal to accept them. It might not happen, but he doesn't need to speak - it's clear he does not think they'll make it through this. Hug him all you want, he's not warming up this time.]

Make it right in what way? I thought - by most standards, isn't it... isn't that already doing the right thing?

[ She looks from Beckett to Enoch with an echo of old grief welling up inside. The silence and the disappointment are something she's experienced before back home, after betraying the vault hunters to Jack. That awful hollow feeling inside, the frosty lack of response after she'd asked them - we aren't friends any more, are we? ]

Am I being an asshole?

[ She's not sassing. It's a genuine question, and it sounds very small and frail and un-Angel-like. ]

[Enoch glances nervously between them, an awful twinge in his gut, both at Angel’s plaintive tone and at the realization that Beckett’s continued objections have brought him to.]

Certainly the idea of it is noble and right, but...you have been fighting against every mention of the very idea of helping you out of that situation once you’re in it. I do respect it as a choice and for what it ideally is. I wouldn’t... [he gives Beckett a long, apprehensive look. He’s going to trust him, that there is something here he understands that Enoch hasn’t quite grasped in full yet.]

I wouldn’t call you that. But now that I noticed it, it is rather worrying. Doing the right thing is important, but if there’s something more to it...

[another meaningful look at Beckett. What does he have to say?]

Edited (Phone tag or no, that really needed a better segue.) 2018-08-27 04:24 (UTC)

[There's... something, and Beckett wishes he was better with words when it comes to articulating things that aren't sly commentary or Vampire Science. It all comes down to this bizarre attempt he's going at to Be Involved, to change something. To stop tuning out, going off, running away. The way Enoch's looking at him, the way Enoch is clearly, desperately trying for damage control, and this sudden drop in Angel's voice - it's a lot of pressure, okay. He understands how much this is hurting... everyone.

But something's got to break, something's got to break.]

Not do the right thing. Not for us. [His voice is low, because about three quarters of his energy is sunk into just staying, here under Angel's look and Enoch's hold.]

Would it... make things right for you? Let you know that you've done what you had do, you've turned things around, now you can move on?

Iunno. Maybe.

[ She's trying to sort through it all. She's trying hard. Because Enoch is right - even if he wouldn't use the exact words, her reaction to the idea of rescue is kind of effed up.

She's kind of effed up. ]

I think... I mean, it'd make things more right than anything else I can think of.

[ Because how else is she supposed to give her life some kind of worth? Sacrifice has always been the answer, ever since she first entered the bunker as a child giving up her freedom so no one else died like her mom did.

Not that she realises that herself. She's good at dissecting the inner workings of others, but her own? Not so much. ]

[He can't do anything, really, but hold on to them both. It's all he ever can do lately, it feels like.]

Is that-...

[He cuts his own question off. Of course that's what this is about, Angel didn't correct Beckett in the slightest. And it's hard to pursue this because he sees too much of his own self-sacrificial nature in Angel's, a blind spot in his instinct to care for and heal.]

Perhaps it would be clearer to you if you could articulate why it feels more right?

[It probably is not the best answer, might not be the answer he'd hoped for, but it nonetheless makes something tangible loosen in Beckett's stance, changes the quality of his silence. Like it's brought him back from someplace. Maybe back into the realm of the comprehensible. Where making right feels like it can justify just about anything.

(Part of him knows he's projecting; he's not nearly the manipulator Angel is but he's much better at self-examination. But he tells himself it makes sense. That it emerges from the ways in which they are alike. It keeps him feeling the connection. It's a duty, and a comfort.)

But he leaves the talking to Enoch, who is so much more qualified. Enoch who is so miraculously free of judgement. For now he's just listening - listening intently.]

Iunno. Or - Iunno if I know.

[ Like Beckett, she falls silent. It's obvious how much effort this is taking - she isn't even trying to assume her usual neutral expression any more, and various degrees of discomfort flicker across her face in quick succession. It isn't quite Rhys-tier emoting, but it's startlingly unguarded. ]

I think - I said before, that when I died at home it didn't change anything? I meant that it was supposed to stop Jack from opening a Vault. With a dangerous monster inside. And that was part of what made dying okay? I was supposed to be saving the planet, making up for everything else I'd done. I was - was making things right.

[ She glances towards Beckett as she echoes his words, then looks at a particularly interesting spot on the floor instead. Look at that thing. Goddamn. ]

Then, I mean - I'm not dead, I'm here, and it turns out Jack got another siren to open the Vault so I didn't stop him at all, and my death was actually just as stupid and pointless as my whole freaking life was, and there are only a handful of people who even know that I tried to help and to the rest I'm just a picture on the desk of a dead tyrant, and --

[ Enoch probably knows bits of that, and most of it should be old news to Beckett. But then - ]

-- they call me Handsome Jill. Rhys told me. In the whole - the fake future thing. I was always kinda okay with being forgotten, I guess, but not -- I don't want that to happen again if - ugh.

[ UrghrgHGHgHHH she's tearing up and she's SO MAD ABOUT IT ]

Oh... Oh, Angel. I'm sorry.

[That half of his hug that's Angel's gets a little tighter. He thinks he understands now. That if she lived, she might...]

Angel, even if- even if we can't leave together, there's-

[His voice breaks. He can't bear the thought of being trapped without them. How can he go back to his world knowing now just how truly lonely he's been?

But this is about Angel, and he forces himself to continue.]

-you know there's someone else from your world who can try to act on your behalf. Who will know you aren't your father. And if we can, you'll have people whose testaments cannot be lost to time in us.

You don't-... I understand if you still feel you have to do this, or decide that it's too important for other reasons, but- not doing it, or never having the chance to, doesn't mean this idea of "Handsome Jill" is who you are or will be. You're a good person, and you don't need to be lost to this place to prove it.

[He might not have, otherwise - naturally he wouldn't have, but Beckett is making a conscious effort not to pull back. So he grimaces, fangs showing, when Angel says the name, Handsome Jill. However many crimes of history he's encountered, they're still an affront, and this is really very personal.

He has never in his life wanted to hug anyone more. The feeling is mildly terrifying in its intensity. He wants to wrap her in his arms like they're another world, a just, a kind one.]

No hero writes their own story. [He speaks more quietly, almost an undertone to Enoch's more personal, emotionally clearer words. That's Enoch's gift. His is just knowledge.] That's the irony of history, I suppose, that it's written by the people who are best at silencing and erasing everyone else. You can't know what it'll say... and you can't know if you really have made a difference in the long run. Not really. You act in the moment, do what... [He glances down at his hands] what you think is right.

[Come on, though, Beckett, you know that's not a comfort. You know.]

You have to - I'm sorry, Enoch, you might not like where this will go but I'm going to say it - you have to account for yourself. What you know about yourself and what you've done. Whether in your world or... what you plan to do here. You can't determine success or failure, only whether you did what you had to to be able to look yourself in the eye after. And whatever it must be, if there is still something left - I will respect it. Because I love you. Because I want you alive, but not more than I want you whole.

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phaseshifter - 2018-09-05 15:33 (UTC) - Expand

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warriorscribe - 2018-09-06 06:01 (UTC) - Expand

[network] @dulcedeleche; █ ███████ [MORNING 385]

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JAX!!!! <33333333

:D:D :D!!! (Stuck on mobile only until Wednesday, bear with me)

hi guys sorry i suck >-<

NO YOU DON'T

Yeah, man, life happens!

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