sirenspull_logs

Entry tags:

closed.

Who: Proxy the Elder (

theosen) and Proxy the Younger (

awakenings)
When: March 4th, after the evening sirens.
Where: Out in the darkness.
Summary: A meeting of Romdeau's gods amidst the decay of fallen night.
Warnings: Proxy One.

[ The hours from dawn til dusk whittle away with what seems to be excessive slowness. Ironic, considering his longevity, but there's so much he has yet to learn of this world that may be some past of his own.

He does not sleep, does not rest -- there's too much on his mind for him to truly be at ease. Instead, he stretches forth his senses, detecting what he can from the lightlessness of his haven.

Finally, the sirens sound, and the stench of decay returns. Rising up in silence, he disappears into the night. A dark wraith painted all in red, he resumes his exploration from the height of the tallest towers. He does not wish to be seen and so he is not, a whisper of darkness subject to nature's whim.

It's only towards the early morning hours that he stops, perching himself on the roof of an abandoned skyscraper. He does not expect her to come; in fact, he would much prefer if she did not. He waits nonetheless, though, to see if she will find him. ]

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[He never really agreed to meet her, she tells herself. She doesn't need to do this, to run out into the night and go looking for him. She doesn't really need to see him.

But, in reality, she does. It's her raison d'être, her truth and what drives her. If nothing else, she needs to see it through to the end, even if the answers she seeks won't satisfy her. (Knowing the truth won't make you happy.) She knows the risks. But without Vincent here, who else is there to go and speak with him? Who else would dare but her?

Though a day has passed, she can't seem to grow used to the steady beating of another pulse or his presence just beyond the edge of her senses. She's deprived herself of sleep since he's arrived, anxious and uncertain. Instead of waiting inside, she takes to the streets two hours after the sirens go off, eager to rid herself of her stress before she sees him. And it's only an hour or so later before she finally does go looking for him, following his trail to an abandoned skyscraper. She scales it with ease and without the use of her wings, coming to find him perched there and waiting.

Re-l barely hesitates before she wanders closer, though she keeps some distance between them just in case.]

Proxy One.

[The name is strange on her lips, not unlike the name 'Ergo Proxy'. It seems too formal and yet almost demeaning: he has no name, only his designation.]

[ No, he never did agree. In fact, there is very little he has actually consented to in the course of his long life. The role of creator and god as well as the agent of death -- these were things he never asked for. Compelled to create as well as destroy, he lived his life knowing the inevitable end that awaited. The terrible truth, a crushing force shut up in his bones, was ever on his mind.

Now, he finds he has questions, a morbid sort of curiosity growing within him even as he stares out across this city -- no, this cesspit -- that wears its filth like a badge of honor.

His other is not here, but she is. The feeling has not abated, the beat of her heart a steady thrum next to his. It pains him, and though he has multiple times wished it gone since arriving, he wonders if it would truly comfort him in the event it disappeared.

He does not turn when she approaches, an imposing figure wrapped in the armor of his own solitude. He does not smile, he does not mock, and there's no inflection in those graveled tones when he finally acknowledges her. ]

The city sleeps.

[ Why aren't you? ]

[Not unlike Vincent, he stands alone, adrift in his own melancholy. In fact, if he was wearing Ergo Proxy's mask, she might not have noticed much of a difference. Perhaps it's a sadness she sees in him or maybe it's simply disdain, though she can't hear it in his voice. Unlike Vincent - Ergo Proxy - he's had time to perfect his mask and he hasn't wasted his time chasing the ghosts of his memories.

Re-l stands there and watches him for a few moments, keeping the distance between them out of respect rather than fear. Too close and he might leave. Too far and he might mock her. She feels like she's balancing on a wire.

She shrugs, staring out into the cold darkness instead of at him.]

I'm the one who asked for this. It'd be rude of me to request to speak with you and then not show up, regardless of the time.

[Re-l looks over at him.]

I'm well aware of what lurks in the Darkness. I'm not afraid.

[ I'm not afraid. A huff of humorless laughter escapes into the air, soft and brief as he considers the tattered skies above. So much like home and yet somehow more foul. It's just now, he has no choice but to dwell in darkness alone.

He doesn't bother to turn, facing away from her still. ]

Twisted souls, forever trapped in a sea of rot and decay. [ There's an edge to his words that tastes of terrible irony. ] I've heard their story.

[ And felt it. Touched them, even, as he's passed them by. Their exact make-up is something he's still curious about, but knowing what sits in his heart, he can discern that much at least. ]

What brings you to me?

[That piques her curiosity and so she moves closer now towards the edge of the building. The distance between them hardly changes; she simply finds a spot where she can look down and take in the view he's seeing.

The height strikes her first, though she's far from being terrified of falling. Then is the dark, the small flickers of movement in the distance, and the faint noise she can pick up with her limited senses. Though she can't experience it like he can - not now, not yet - she still can take a moment to understand what he's saying.

He's been here less than two days and already he knows and perceives far more than others can.]

Can you feel them, even from here?

[It's genuine curiosity in her voice and there might be some underlying note of concern there too. What is that sort of feeling like? How much has he already found?

She keeps her gaze outward.]

I have questions. [After a pause, she looks at him.] Just a few. And if you have some of your own, I'll hear them. That's only fair.

[ If asked, he would actually be hard-pressed to describe exactly how he knows what he does. He doesn't feel them, not really -- or at least, not in the way he can feel her. It's more like an awareness, a sense of what is that he can see in his mind's eye. ]

I hear them.

[ The shrieks and moans of the forsaken resounding across the night. It leaves an echo, a deep rift in his heart and soul that he can do nothing to abate. It reminds him too much of home. ]

Then ask.

[It's not much of an answer, but the way he says it gives her a clear idea that not only is that all she'll get out of him, it's all he can really say. She'll just need to be satisfied with it.

Re-l debates which question to ask first and, finally, she settles on the less important one.]

What did you do to Raul Creed back home?

[He admitted to pushing Daedalus and she had seen Raul shoot Vincent. His motives for that stunt were clear enough. But why him? Why Proxy One? When she spoke to him, he had known it wasn't Vincent. But neither she nor Vincent had ever said that there had been two.

How had he known? What had Proxy One done?]

[ Of course. The animal.

He scoffs quietly, the sharpness of disdain coloring his features. ]

I showed him the truth.

[ And he denied it. Denied how powerless and impotent he truly was. How all his efforts were useless, the pointless struggle of a flawed creation.

And then, in an effort to undermine it all, he destroyed Mosque. The arrogant, disgusting cockroach dared to destroy her city. He can still smell the ash, feel the heat and light burning all around him. He'll never forget that moment, nor will he forgive, and should Raul Creed forget to mind himself, he will not hesitate to swat him aside. ]

Which truth?

[Her voice is hard but lacks any real challenge. She refuses to play games when it comes to her Fellow Citizens, and as much as she'd like to feel some sort of righteous anger towards Proxy One... She can't. Not right this moment.

But that doesn't mean she's going to let him get away with a flippant response like that.]

What did you tell him?

I told you.

[ As recently as the previous morning, even. ]

He has no sense of his own lack of importance.

[She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose and briefly rubbing her eyes. Children, the both of you, fighting over who has suffered more. If he was Vincent, she'd push him off the ledge for how he was acting.

Instead of continuing in that vein - because he's right about Raul - she simply shakes her head.]

I've told him not to provoke you. No promises that he'll follow through.

[And it's not for Proxy One's protection that she requested Raul hold himself back.]

...The only other question I have right now is about this place. Back home, do you ever remember if this island even existed? Or did no one mention it?

[ Children. The only child in this equation is the one who can't take no for an answer. Selfish, ridiculous brat, screaming at the top of his lungs for a battle he has no hope of winning.

He sneers, but says no more about it. He knows his own creation, and regardless of what Re-l Mayer might say, Raul Creed will never stand down.

The other question, however -- it does give him pause, and he considers it before he answers. He has a sense of why she might be asking. ]

No. The world was already in ruins before the proxies came into being.

[ And it wasn't long after that, that they were discarded, abandoned to a desecrated Earth while the creators took to the skies. ]

Oh.

[So he doesn't know and she's right back where she started. She doesn't say anything and, instead, glances back out into the night. No emotion crosses her features, no glimmer of anything in her eyes. But that doesn't stop the disappointment from building in her chest nor abates the frustration she feels.

It's not his fault. She's just sick of dead ends in her searches.

She lets the silence between them linger for some time before she finally speaks up again, though she keeps looking out at the city instead of him.]

Thanks for letting me know anyway. If anyone had the answer to that, it'd be you.

[Or Monad.

But that's all she had to ask. And, as promised, she'll let him speak if he has anything to say or question her about while she's here.]

[ Oh.

He looks at her, just briefly, taking her measure before his eyes turn back to the scene stretched out before him. She doesn't show him how she feels, what she wishes he had said, but he knows just the same.

It's a nice thought, a hopeful one, even. And yet, it's no less foolish. ]

That which is cannot be changed.

[ A soft statement, more thoughtful than abrasive. ]

Tell me of this city.

[Her shoulders tighten, though she doesn't acknowledge what he says. She refuses to give up and simply let live. She can't. There's hope here, something to fight for. Vincent would want it like this too and so long as he's not here, she'll fight for him, for their future.

She turns back to him after a moment.]

This city was ravaged by a nuclear device called the Core, the reason for our entrapment. That's what created the creatures and the Darkness. In the daytime, the biggest problems are the companies. One controls the entertainment industry but endorses slavery; the other controls the science and medical fields but uses experimentation as their means of progress.

[She can already tell she's not endearing him to the city or its people.]

Newcomers are shunned and we're often blamed for whatever problem is going on. On top of that, the Core grants any Newcomer without abilities back home a 'power'.

Anywhere you go, you'll run into someone with some sort of ability, even if it's the power to nullify other's gifts. [A pointed look.] They're called Voids. Avoid them.

[She says this not out of care or concern; the fact remains that she's felt empty around them without the use of her powers. He'll probably feel worse.]

[ She's right. If anything, her explanation only confirms exactly what he's seen and heard -- that this city is a cesspit mired in filth and corruption. Every base trait, every negative characteristic amplified and brought to the fore -- it's not so much a nightmare as a bizarre twist of fate. A cruel and entirely unwelcome, on of course. But then, no one ever said that destiny was so kind.

He listens, though, without interrupting, considering everything he's told with an air of quiet indifference. The Core, the companies, Voids, politics, powers -- so much to be aware of.

Though things were hardly perfect, Romdeau was much less complicated and far more controlled. ]

A city in chaos.

[ He murmurs, half-amused, half-disgusted at the prospect. ]

The road to ruin begins again.

[The road to ruin begins again.

Re-l stiffens, unable to hide it this time. He'd know better than anyone what the world still looked like once ravaged, and what the people were like. And, truly, that's the last thing she wanted to hear...and the one thing she knew since the first few months she had arrived.

All of this has happened before and it will all happen again.

Instead of giving into something like despair, she reacts as she always does: lashing out.]

No. No, this world isn't going to be ruined. There's still a chance that this can be fixed. We have time so long as people are willing to work to make it happen.

[It's not a denial of what could be. She knows that this world could very well end up like their own. But she can't give up now.]

I refuse to let it be like this.

[ Hopeful determination. If there was ever a time he felt such a thing, he's long since forgotten it. From the day he came into being and was given charge over a desolated world, there's always been that knowledge, the awareness of a fate that could never be avoided. That isn't to say he didn't try; if only to spite the Creators, he made an effort in all aspects. He wanted to succeed, wanted to see the result of something other than failure.

But it was not to be.

He doesn't berate her for it. In fact, he smiles. ]

If that is what you wish.

[ He'll not stop her. Some people have to try, after all, before they learn to fail. ]

[He's mocking her. He knows it's a lost cause, that she would have more success trying to physically change people than to attempt to shift their core beliefs, sway the corruption, and to get rid of the Darkness. She knows the latter is impossible. The others could happen, but who is she to change something so large, something that has been around for years? Who is she to rip that corruption out of people's very hearts?

No one in Romdeau changed. No one even thought something was wrong. Even at the end, they blamed the change, the AutoReivs, and the ADW Project itself. They refused to believe the problem was in themselves.

She should accept this. But she spent too long watching others wallow in despair and suffer in silence, and she won't have it here.]

I do.

[She watches him closely.]

It's not as if I don't have all the time in the world, after all.

[ He's been waiting for it.

It's no secret to her or to him that both of them know exactly what she is. What she's becoming.

And thus, the mask returns, the indifference of solitude settling over him once again.

Regardless of how this changes things, he'll not show her how he feels. ]

Perhaps.

[ Not even the proxies, after all, are invulnerable to death. ]

[He's avoiding the issue. She has a feeling she knows why. Her origins are no secret to her. She saw Monarch with her own eyes. She can only guess at his relationship to the other Proxy, mostly to how she cared so much for Vincent, but that's something she doesn't want to think on right now and in front of him.

She suddenly feels very lost without Vincent. And she realizes that he must feel very displaced without him too. He is their only connection.

Re-l finds that she's lost some of her steam in this understanding, and she shakes her head once.]

There's no 'perhaps' about it. People have tried.

[And that's all she'll say about the few attempts on her life here. There's more important things to discuss, which is why she pulls out her handgun, the one with the FP shells in it. She releases the clip and holds it up for him to see and to not feel threatened by.]

[ Of course, he is. He has no reason to want to discuss it, no purpose in pursuing any sort of conversation related to the past or to her. Clone or not, Re-l Mayer is incomplete, a fragment of what was once beloved, and even if she were Monad, truly come again, he would have nothing left to say to her.

And so, he does not react, only looks when she holds out the shells. He knows what they are, recognizes them quite well, but he doesn't actually feel threatened. He knows she won't shoot, not here, not now, and even if she tried, he's old, he's experienced, and simply possessing the weapon that can destroy him in no way guarantees success.

No, he's not afraid. He would be a poor agent of death indeed if he feared the inevitable. He simply doesn't care for the responsibility -- to her, or any of the others.

He's had enough. ]

The worst is yet to come.

[After a moment, once she knows he's seen them and knows the implications, she slides the clip back into the gun and loads it properly. She tucks the gun back onto her belt, eyes rising up to gaze into the night sky.

She wishes the stars and moon were more visible. It'd make the atmosphere between them much less imposing, especially amidst to long bouts of silence.

Re-l looks at him once he speaks.]

For this world, you mean?

[That this world will continue to rot and decay, just as theirs did?]

[ For this world. Honestly, in his mind, it's a given. The human race can be no more or less for this planet than what they truly are -- a destructive presence with little care for anything other than themselves. He speaks of them, of course, but only in part.

She looks at him, and after a moment, he finally looks at her. ]

For you.

[The statement surprises her and immediately puts her on edge. She wants to lash out, to immediately put distance between them with a snappish 'What the hell do you know' thrown in there for good measure. But she doesn't. She has control of herself and her emotions, and though the comment strikes some deep-set fear within her, she doesn't let it outwardly show on her face.

Rather, there's something wary in her eyes, something cautious and uncertain. And even with that uncertainty, there is still curiosity and her innate drive to know everything:]

How bad is it going to be?

[ Except he knows. How can he know, with that heartbeat so close to his chest, the knowledge of whom she was modeled after grafted to her very being. She hadn't fully developed -- not yet -- but time will make it so.

He can only guess how long she has until what humanity remains inevitably forsakes her entirely. ]

What peace is there for those who live outside of time?

[The one true difference between them is that he was created with a long-lasting purpose, as cruel and as unfair as it was. She, however, was given a short-term reason to exist...and that has long since been completed.

If she continues as a Proxy, one who can do nothing but live as others die around her, then what point is there?

She keeps her emotions hidden. Inside, she feel something twist.]

I suspect I'll have to make my own peace somehow.

[ What point, indeed? ]

To be a proxy is suffering.

[ He says it without emotion or rancor. To him, it is a fact -- the terrible truth and nothing more. ]

If you can live with that knowledge and endure, perhaps you will find it.

To exist is suffering.

[Humans suffer just as much as Proxies and other immortals do. The only difference lies in the lengths of their life spans.

Even so, she understands what he's telling her at the very least.

So long as she can find a place to belong, someplace to call her own, and to exist without falling into despair, then maybe there's some hope yet. But until that day, this is all she has.]

I intend to, one way or another.

[The truth, as always.]

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curse my kindle for lack of Lazarus

no worries! /is le slow

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